By the time we’d finished the most delicious lemon meringue pie I’d ever tasted in my life and Caine stood up to clear the table and load the dishwasher, I’d lost count of the many times he’d surprised me that night.
“Effie, you’re running out of detergent for the dishwasher,” Caine called through to us. This was followed up a few seconds later with “And milk. And eggs.”
“I used the last up on the pie,” she called back before taking a sip of the fresh tea she’d brewed.
“I’ll run out tomorrow morning and get you some more. Do you need anything else?”
My jaw practically hit the table.
Effie chuckled at me. “I’m in the mood for an omelet tomorrow. Can you get me some cheese, red and green peppers, and spring onions?”
“Just write down what you need and I’ll get it,” he said, wandering back over to us.
I was choking on my words.
Caine took one look at me and his eyes glinted with mischief.
I stood up abruptly. “I’m going to leave now.” Before I commit homicide!
He grinned evilly as Effie stood up, still laughing.
“It was lovely having you, Lexie. You sure are fun.”
Ignoring the devil, I looked at my wisecracking angel. “Thanks, Effie. I had a wonderful time. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
“Oh, sweetie, you come by anytime you want.” She rounded the table and enfolded me in a surprisingly strong hug.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Caine said as Effie pulled back.
“You don’t have to,” I said, still pissed at him for making me do shit he was perfectly capable of doing himself and clearly was used to doing for himself.
“Alexa.” He used the old familiar warning tone. “You knew what the job was when you took it.”
And wasn’t that the truth? I exhaled heavily, trying to let go of my annoyance. I nodded and then gave Effie a small wave, grabbed my bag, and followed Caine to the door.
We were silent as we stepped into the elevator. Caine pressed the button for the underground parking garage.
“I saw the kimono,” he said as we neared the garage level. “It’s perfect for Effie.”
Yes, I’d definitely lost count of the many times he had surprised me this evening. “Was that almost a ‘good job’?”
We stepped out of the elevator into the coolness of the garage. Caine threw me a quelling look as he led me to my car. “Don’t ruin it by being a smart-ass.”
I grinned. “I don’t think it’s possible to ruin an almost ‘good job.’ A good job, yes, not an almost.”
We stopped at the car and Caine did so with a weary sigh. “Fine. You did a good job.” He leveled me with that heavy, dark gaze of his. “You are doing a good job.”
And there he went, shocking me again.
A smile prodded my lips.
There was a whole other side to Caine, and Effie Flanagan, a seventy-seven-year-old Broadway actress, brought it out in him. He was relaxed, he was funny, and he could even be … yes … sweet. Just like Effie said.
A wary aspect had entered Caine’s eyes, as if he was waiting for me to say something cheeky that would piss him off.
“Thank you.”
The wariness disappeared and he gave me a little nod of acknowledgment that was so much hotter than it should have been.
“I’d better get back to Effie. I promised to fix that railing.”
“So you did.” I smiled and opened my car door.
“Good night, Alexa.”
“Good night, Mr. Carraway.”
Caine responded with a stiff smile and then he slowly retreated and strode off.
I got in my car and drove out of there, wondering why the hell I couldn’t let this go, why I had to push my way into his life, just so I didn’t have to deal with my own. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. The only thing I was starting to predict was that if I did by some miracle find a way to make Caine see who I really was, I was almost positive that I wasn’t going to come out of it unscathed.
CHAPTER 8
My prediction started coming true almost immediately. That Monday when I returned to work, Caine was back to his usual charming, clipped, and cool self. It was like Saturday had never happened. I had to admit it hurt.
And I really didn’t want to feel that way.
He made it easier to turn the hurt into irritation when he complained that his latte was a soy latte (it definitely was not) and told me that I needed to stop stapling paperwork together and learn how to use a paper clip.
I’d learn how to use a paper clip all right, but only after I used the staple one last time to shut him up permanently. Yeah, I said it!
“Said what?” Caine snapped.
That was when I realized I’d let the latter half of the conversation with myself slip out of my mouth. “Uh …” I stared down at him, trying to think fast. “That you’re so right.” I reached out and grabbed the paperwork from him. “I’ll just go remove the staples for you.”
I thought that was a pretty crappy start to the day. However, it wasn’t until lunchtime when things really started to go bad.
I was in the middle of typing up my squiggly notes from Caine’s meetings that morning when I heard Henry call out my name. He was striding down the hall toward me and when he came to a stop, he perched himself on the edge of my desk and gave me a soft smile. “Good afternoon, beautiful.”
Over the last few weeks I’d come to like Henry. He was the opposite of Caine. He was all friendly and flirtatious and laid-back. Henry worked for his father’s offshore bank, traveled a lot, and overall seemed to enjoy life way more than Caine did. He oozed charm and contentment, and I had to admit he did a lot to soothe my Caine-related wounded pride and self-esteem.
I relaxed back in my chair and smiled up at him, pleased to see him. “Good afternoon, handsome. How was your weekend?”
“Not as interesting as yours. I heard you dined with the queen.”
I laughed. “Effie? Yeah, she’s awesome.”
Henry threw his head back in laughter. “Effie? Mrs. Flanagan lets you call her by her first name. I’m sure Caine was delighted by that.”
I rolled my eyes. “What’s the big deal?”
“Believe it or not, Mrs. Flanagan is a hard nut to crack. She and I are not on a first-name basis and she’s spent the last five years denying me access to her baking.” He pouted comically. “I’m not a big fan of rejection.”
Amused, I tsked. “There must be a reason for her rejection.”
“She says I’m a ne’er-do-well, and until I settle down and act like a real man she wants nothing to do with me.”
“That’s not fair. I’d say Mr. Carraway is as much of a ne’er-do-well as you.”
“Thank you!” He nodded in agreement. “That is my argument exactly.” He leaned closer. “Maybe you could put in a good word since she’s taken such a shine to you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Henry smiled and stood up. “Have I told you recently how happy I am that Caine hired you?”
“No, but it would be helpful if you tell him that.” I pressed the call button to Caine’s office.
“What?” he grumped on the loudspeaker, and Henry grinned at my answering grimace.
“Mr. Lexington is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
I gestured to the door. “His Majesty awaits.”
He nodded. “Thank you, beautiful.”
The heavy door shut behind him and yet I heard Henry ask, “Someone in a mood?”
The speakerphone. Caine had left it on. I opened my mouth to tell him when he returned with “I don’t remember the last time I was in a good mood. Oh, right … the pre-Alexa days.”
My mouth shut, my skin hot and prickling with hurt, embarrassment, and annoyance. It was one thing for him to be grouchy and insulting to my face, but to talk about me with other people. Not nice.
“Oh, well, you must be an idiot, then,” Hen
ry responded cheerily. “I find her delightful. In fact, I find Alexa so delightful I’m asking her to the Andersons’ Anniversary Ball on Saturday.”
I clamped a hand over my mouth to smother my gasp.
Caine had had me arrange appointments so he could get a new tux for the Andersons’ ball. Richard Anderson was a well-known media magnate. He and his wife, Cerise, were leaders of Boston society. Cerise was on every board of directors for charities and the arts in the city. It was their fortieth wedding anniversary on Saturday and they were throwing a party fit for royalty. Everyone who was anyone in Boston had been invited.
Henry wanted to take me as his date?
“Don’t even think about it,” Caine bit out.
“Is it because she’s a PA? Do you think she’s beneath us? Because I have to say, considering your humble background, that’s pretty shitty of you.”
It was pretty shitty of him.
You tell him, Henry!
“It’s not that.” Caine’s voice sounded tight, strained. “It’s because you can’t keep your dick in your pants. I won’t have you and that wandering dick anywhere near Lexie.”
I sank back in my chair.
Lexie?
Lexie?
What the hell?
I heard Henry harrumph. “You sound jealous …”
Was he jealous? My belly flipped at that thought.
“I’m not jealous.” Caine sounded like he was sneering at the thought. “Despite her smart mouth she’s the best PA I’ve ever had. I won’t have her chased off because you like her legs.”
Best PA?
Best PA?
“Not just her legs. I’m quite taken with the whole package. She’s gorgeous, she’s funny, she’s smart. I won’t be bored out of my mind all night. Anyway, you’re taking Marina Lansbury. I’m not going as some juvenile third wheel.”
Marina Lansbury?
My belly flipped again, this time the sensation unpleasant.
“Henry, you’re a Lexington. You can ask any woman in Boston to be your date and she’ll say yes. You’re not asking Lexie on an evening out with us. It’s crossing the line.”
Like, say … thinking of me as “Lexie” behind my back? What was that all about?
“Oh, get the stick out of your ass, Caine.”
I was really starting to like Henry more and more.
“Shit, Henry, surely you can do better than Lexie.”
That burned.
I blinked back the sting of tears and clicked the speaker off. That was what I got for eavesdropping.
The burn in my chest wouldn’t dissipate and I had to really struggle to hold back the urge to cry. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt.
I was such an idiot. Caine was never going to see me as anything more than Alistair Holland’s daughter.
The door to the office opened and Henry and Caine stepped out. I avoided Caine’s eyes but gave Henry what I hoped wasn’t a wobbly smile.
Henry took my smile as an invitation and perched himself on the corner of my desk again. I shot a look at Caine, who stood behind him, waiting impatiently.
More than impatiently.
If he could have flayed Henry’s back with his eyes, he would have.
“Alexa.” Henry drew my attention back to him. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the Andersons’ Anniversary Ball on Saturday. I know it’s a little late notice, but I’d be honored if you’d say yes to being my date to the party.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. I gave him one of my own flirty little smiles that made his eyes dance. “Yes. I would love to.”
Caine walked away and Henry glanced over his shoulder to watch his friend’s departure.
“Everything okay?” I said innocently.
Henry gave me a reassuring smile. “Everything’s wonderful. If you give me your address I’ll pick up you up at eight.”
I took the fact that Caine gave me a nod of acknowledgment when he returned from lunch as a good thing, so later that afternoon I dared to be bold. We were returning from a business meeting with the CEO of a flailing investment company.
We were quiet in the car as it took us back to the office.
As always, the tension between us was thick.
I sought to break it … or make it worse. It was a toss-up. “I was hoping I could take a late lunch tomorrow so I can buy a dress for the Andersons’ ball on Saturday.”
I watched as Caine stiffened and then he stared at me with an infuriating imperiousness. “A late lunch? For a dress?”
“It’s about time I spent some of that money I’m making running around after you.” I smiled sweetly.
His eyes raked down my body and they took their time drinking me in on the climb back up.
I flushed, squirming. “Well?”
He looked away, returning his gaze outside the window at the city passing us by. “Move the meeting with Peter from Risk Management tomorrow and I’ll accompany you.”
What? No. He was joking, right? “Are you kidding?”
“No.” He drew the word out with impatience. “You’ll still be representing me and my company on Saturday. I have to make sure you don’t dress … inappropriately.”
My blood started to heat. “Inappropriately?” I said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t have to look in your wardrobe to know it’s filled with shorts and tank tops that show too much cleavage.”
Ugh! “Let’s not forget the fancy-ass work clothes you make me squeeze into on a daily basis,” I snapped, forgetting I was talking to my boss.
He glared at me. “They’re the only appropriate things in your wardrobe. You’ve made my point for me. I’m taking you dress shopping.”
Like hell! “No offense, sir, but I am not going dress shopping with you. It’s supposed to be fun, and I’m sure you understand that having my boss there detracts from the fun.”
Caine sighed and straightened the cuffs on his suit jacket. “Shopping is never fun.”
“Look, you …” I couldn’t even find a word perfect enough to describe his jackassery. “I am an intelligent woman and just because I like comfortable clothes doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress at a formal event.”
“Alexa.” He curled his lip. “This isn’t prom night back home. This is Boston society.”
I threw him a disgusted look, feeling triumphant when he flinched. The car drew to a stop in the parking garage and I opened my door. Before I got out, I remembered his words to Henry earlier. I turned back to him. “You know, I understood when I took this job that you weren’t going to make it easy on me, but not once in all the hard work have I actively disliked you. Until today.” I shook my head, disappointed in him, so much more than I ever thought I could be. “You’re from Southie. Now you’re part of high society. But instead of embracing where you come from and mixing that with where you are—something that gives you a better perspective than all of them—you’ve become this elitist snob.” I shot out of the car before he could reply and I marched up to the office without him.
Then I sat at my desk stewing in my outrage.
Ten minutes later I heard his footsteps down the hall. When he turned the corner and headed toward me, I braced myself to be fired. His shadow fell over me as he stopped by my desk and I forced myself to look up at him.
Caine’s face was carefully blank. “You may take the extra hour tomorrow. Alone.”
Shocked that he hadn’t canned my ass, but still hurt by his perception of me, I nodded and returned my attention to my computer screen.
He hovered for a few seconds longer, but I couldn’t look at him.
Eventually he moved away, slamming his office door behind him.
It would suffice to say that things between my boss and me were more than a little chilly for the rest of the week. He’d even curbed how much running around he had me doing because it meant he didn’t have to interact with me as much.
I refused to be upset over it, however. So he didn’t want me there at his fancy-a
ss party with his fancy-ass people. He thought I was beneath him. I decided not to give a shit.
At least … well, I tried to convince myself not to give a shit. I wasn’t too successful at that, although Henry did help a little. He sent flowers to the office on Friday, and the card said he was looking forward to spending Saturday evening with me. It was the first time a guy had done that for me, and I had to admit that being on the receiving end of the delivery was way more romantic than I’d expected.
Plus, it really made me gleeful how annoyed Caine got every time he passed my desk and saw the flowers. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would have suspected he was jealous.
By the time Saturday evening rolled around, my smug rebelliousness had been crushed by my nerves. I’d been to a few parties attended by celebrities when I worked for Benito, but nothing like this event. A society event was a whole different ball game. It was a complex social arena, and much more intimidating than anything I was used to. So when Caine made the dig about prom night, he wasn’t far off it.
There was also the fact that I liked Henry but I wasn’t attracted to him. Guilt niggled at me for using him to irritate my boss. A boss who begrudged my presence at the ball.
To conquer my nerves I concentrated on looking my best. My dress was gorgeous and I looked good, even if I had to say so myself because there was no one else around to give me the confidence boost. That depressed me. So I stood in front of my mirror, took a selfie, and sent it to Rachel.
A minute later she texted back: OMG, I’d fuck you!!!
There. That made me feel better.
Standing by my window, I looked down onto the tree-lined street and sipped at a glass of wine. I sucked in my breath, trying to fight down the nerves.
I almost succeeded until the black limo pulled up out front and Henry ducked out of it and strode quickly up my stoop. The buzzer went and I let him into the building. I waited a few seconds after he knocked on my door before grabbing the pashmina and the little clutch that matched my dress.
When I opened the door, Henry’s lips parted in surprise.
His gaze drifted over me slowly, taking in everything, and when they finally returned to my face, there was a heat in his eyes that made me feel both anxious and flattered.
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