by Amy Andrews
CC didn’t care how many women of marriageable age there might or might not be in Credence. She’d been around Wade long enough to know that wherever he was, women followed. He was like the pied freaking piper of women.
She’d lay money on a busload of Playboy Bunnies pulling into town the day after he arrived.
“So…let me get this straight.” Folding her arms, she leaned back in her desk chair. “You’re moving to a town with no women? For three whole months?”
“I can go without, CC.”
“Yeah, but…when was the last time you had to?” Mercy. The man was delusional. He wasn’t like other mere mortals—women threw themselves at him.
“You think I can’t be celibate?”
CC laughed at the very suggestion. “I think a rabbit on Viagra has more of a chance at celibacy than you.”
He looked like he was going to dispute it for a moment, then grimaced and clearly thought better of it. “Well, yeah…maybe. But it won’t kill me.”
“I know that.” If lack of sex killed, she’d have been dead five years ago.
“It’ll be better for my concentration.”
“Absolutely.” She didn’t doubt it for a moment. Wade was not a multi-tasker. He did well when he concentrated on one thing to the exclusion of everything else. His football career being a case in point.
“Good. So…how soon can you get us ready to go?”
“Well…your schedule might take a while to wrangle, but—” Wait… CC blinked as her brain zeroed in on what he’d just said. Us? She sat forward abruptly. “What do you mean, us?”
He frowned at her as he wandered over to her desk, stopping right in front, all that swagger and confidence even more potent up close. “Well…I’m going to Credence for the summer, and you, as my PA who always goes wherever I go, will be coming with me.”
CC gaped at him. What? Had he lost his mind? No. Absolutely not. No way, no how.
No sirrreeee.
She was leaving his employ and yes, she’d have to serve out her notice, but there was no way Wade was taking her any farther away from California than she already was. Even for a couple of weeks. Moving to Denver had been hard enough. As pretty as those mountains were, give her a beach any day.
Sure, she’d been to a lot of different places with him far from a beach. A day here, two days there. But never three months. And he’d never taken her to Credence. Something that wasn’t about to change—not for three damn months or two lousy weeks.
He could take that to the bank.
“You don’t need me there,” CC hedged. She really didn’t want to dump a resignation on him when his father was facing heart surgery. She’d wait until his dad had been discharged and was safely home in Credence.
He folded his arms. His forearms bunched in an annoyingly distracting way. “You’re my PA, of course I need you there.”
Not for much longer. Surely the man could figure out how to buy his own Nerds?
CC shook her head. “I can manage things perfectly well from here. Especially if I’m canceling your schedule for three months. There’ll be nothing much for me to do, anyway. No Wade to wrangle, no schedule to juggle. Hell, there won’t even be any florists to call with no women, right?”
He shot her a doleful look at her attempt at a joke. “You’re my assistant.” He said it like she was his indentured servant and, standing there as implacable and unmoving as the ridged outline of mountains behind him, he kinda made her feel that way.
Her resolve to keep quiet about her intention to resign took a serious hit.
“You go where I go. You’ve always gone where I’ve gone.”
CC clenched her jaw. “Not for three months. To Credence.”
“Jesus, CC, anybody would think I was asking you to come with me to Siberia. It’s rural Colorado. It’s two hours down the road.”
She swung her head determinedly from side to side. “It’s practically Nebraska.”
“You’re from Nebraska.”
“My point exactly.” She’d gotten out of Nebraska as soon as she’d been able. A broken home, thanks to a father who’d left for another woman and a vengeful, needy mother who hadn’t coped with the betrayal, had amplified CC’s dislike of cornfields and snow. Nebraska was heartbreak and bitterness and stifling dependence. California was warmth and sunshine and freedom.
“You have a problem with small towns?”
“Not as long as there’s a beach.”
“There’s a lake.”
“Doesn’t count.” Everybody knew that.
“CC.” He sighed in that way he had that signaled his patience was wearing thin.
“Wade.” CC stood, although, as usual, he still dwarfed her. It felt good to have a desk between them. “You don’t need me there with you.”
“I’m writing my memoir. You’re supposed to be helping me with that.”
“I can do that from Denver.” She could edit and proof and be his research assistant from anywhere. He could call her, text her, Snapchat, or message her as much as he liked—just as he did every other day of his life.
Hell, she could handle all that from California. The thought was slightly cheering.
“Okay.” He took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose momentarily before continuing. “Let me rephrase it. You work for me. I pay you very good money to go wherever the hell I want. And for the next three months, we’re going to Credence. End of story.”
He did. He did pay her very good money. She had close to a million in her bank account from almost six years with Wade and some astute investments. Almost enough to buy a place right on a beach somewhere in California. But that money had come with a certain price, and she’d known that.
She’d known she’d be at his beck and call twenty-four seven. That life would be fast-paced and busy, and there would be travel and all kinds of demands made on her time. He’d told her as much when he’d outlined his expectations almost six years ago.
If I call you at three in the morning for toothpaste, I expect you to say which brand. If I ask you to help me bury a body, I expect you to bring the shovels.
She’d understood. She’d sold her soul.
Something she’d been willing to take on the chin for six years. He’d wanted ten, but CC had done the math—she hadn’t needed that long on the salary he’d been offering. She’d countered at six, been adamant that it was her limit, and they’d signed on the dotted line.
So, yeah, basically, she’d known she wouldn’t have a life. She hadn’t known she’d develop a serious Red Bull addiction, but she’d been fine with both.
Not anymore.
Her broker had given her the means to walk away. Annabel had been the last straw. And Credence was her line in the sand. The ocean was calling. She really didn’t want to resign this way, but his arrogance wasn’t leaving her much choice.
“Okay. Fine.” Her decision crystallized inside her head, and CC knew it was the right thing to do. For her. She doubted Wade would be happy, but he was a grown-ass man—he’d get over it. Hopefully without the involvement of his lawyers.
He nodded. “Good.”
To his credit, he didn’t look smug. Wade never did smug. He just accepted that people would eventually bend to his will.
“I quit.”
Chapter Three
CC wasn’t sure who was more stunned, Wade or herself. She’d tried hard not to land this in his lap with his dad in the hospital, but all of a sudden, a giant weight lifted from her shoulders.
Not working for Wade? What a novelty. It’d only been five and a half years but, in a lot of ways, it felt like she’d been working for him forever. That he’d always been in her life. This hulking force of nature creating all her weather—the good and the bad.
She could…put herself first. She could sleep in. Her phone number would be hers alone.
>
Hell, she could get laid.
“You’ve got six months left on your contract,” he said through stiff lips.
CC wasn’t surprised he knew this little fact. Wade was no dumb jock—he kept on top of his business stuff. Still, she fought the urge to swallow at the steel in his voice. Maybe he wouldn’t just get over it. “I know.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the set to her jaw or the lack of emotion in her voice, but Wade was taking notice. There was a sudden alertness in his stance, the likes of which she’d only ever seen on the football field.
The truth was, if he wanted to sic his attack-dog lawyers on her, she’d lose. It was, after all, a very straightforward breach of contract. Not to mention how court costs could very well wipe out a chunk of her money.
But, deep down inside, in her heart of hearts, she didn’t think Wade would stoop that low. She hoped, anyway…
Without missing a beat, Wade changed tack. “I’ll give you a fifty thousand bonus at the end of the summer.”
CC blinked. Was he serious? He could hire a secretary for a shitload less. Not that he had to worry about money. And frankly, prior to this morning, this would have been an offer she probably wouldn’t have refused. But with one phone call, everything had changed, and CC couldn’t deny the perverse kind of pleasure she was going to get from showing Wade that she was holding the trump card.
“I don’t need your bonus, Wade. My broker called earlier. One of my investments just hit the jackpot. I have the money I need. I don’t need any of yours.”
The angle of his jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together, and strangely, CC didn’t feel as triumphant as she’d imagined.
“Congratulations,” he said in a way that gave her absolutely zero pleasure. “But there’s still the small matter of your contract.”
There was a hardness in his tone that sent a little chill skating up her spine. This was Wade the quarterback, not giving an inch. “You wouldn’t sue me for breach of contract, Wade.”
She was calling his bluff, because she had to believe that deep down Wade wasn’t the vengeful type. He certainly hadn’t been in the time she’d been with him. Sure, he was tough, he could play hardball, but he wasn’t mean.
His jaw ticked harder. “Try me.”
CC stared at him, his face carved from granite, as hard and unforgiving as the Rockies behind him. This was all kinds of ridiculous. The man didn’t need her. “You don’t need me.”
“Maybe not.”
He was conceding her point, but it didn’t lessen the impact. When it all boiled down to it, he didn’t need her. She wasn’t indispensable just because she knew what brand of breakfast cereal he ate and the number of his dentist. When she was gone, someone else would be doing her job.
Because God forbid Wade make his own dental appointments.
He’d developed a severe case of learned helplessness because she took care of every single detail of his life. Christ on a cracker, he was a thirty-eight-year-old toddler.
“But I want you.”
CC blinked. She’d never heard those words from Wade before. She knew he didn’t mean them like that, but he was watching her so intently, it felt like a possibility for a moment.
The thought made her early departure more desirable. Wade Carter was sex on a stick, but she’d never let herself go there because she’d absolutely no desire to be on the receiving end of one of WC’s floral arrangements.
“Okay, fine…” Her continued silence was obviously getting on his nerves as he changed tack again. “What about if we meet each other halfway?”
She eyed him warily. “O…kay.”
“Come to Credence with me, help me with the book, and I’ll release you from your contract at the end of summer. That’s three months early. No lawyers, no recriminations, no hard feelings.”
CC regarded him for a long moment. It was a good compromise, she had to give him that, even though she knew Wade was playing on her sense of honor and duty. She should tell him to stick it, but his offer was too tempting. She may have been a pushover, but avoiding a messy end to what had been, despite the exasperating moments, a solid professional relationship was important. If nothing else, her reputation was at stake, and that was important in this industry. She wasn’t rich enough that she wouldn’t have to work again.
But seriously, the man should have taken the publisher up on their offer of help. “I told you, you should have gotten a ghost writer.”
He ignored her grumbling. “Is that a yes?”
She narrowed her eyes. The man was impossible.
“Come on, CC. You know that’s a good deal.”
It was. On many levels. Wade got what he wanted—someone to hold his hand. And CC got what she wanted—light at the end of the tunnel without being sued.
Win. Win.
But why did it have to be Credence?
“So…how soon to clear my schedule and get things organized on this end?”
CC gritted her teeth. Typical that he could see her prevaricating and pounce. A person didn’t waver in front of The Catapult. “I guess it’ll take me…a few days.”
Her brain had already turned to the task of rearranging Wade’s life. Maybe she had Stockholm syndrome after all these years?
He nodded briskly, smart enough not to smirk. “Make it happen.”
Make it happen. Like she had a magic freaking wand. No thanks CC. No I really appreciate this, CC. Wade Carter had gotten his way—again—and he was moving inexorably forward, as ever.
“Where will I be staying while I’m there?” She didn’t think Credence had that many hotels or short-term rentals, so she needed to get on it.
“With me.”
CC frowned. With him? She’d never lived with Wade. Her apartment, which he paid for, was about a ten-minute drive from his place, so she came and went each day when he was in Denver. When they traveled, it was hotel rooms. Him in his. Her in hers. Sure, there was usually an interconnected door in between, which he generally abused, but it wasn’t the same as being under one roof.
“At…the farm?” With his parents and his brother. She tried not to think about all her SoCal sensibilities trapped on a rural Colorado hog farm.
“No, in town.”
A flood of relief swept through her. “So you want me to book a hotel?”
“No, I have a place there I bought years ago for Mom and Dad. We’ll stay there.”
Her relief was instantly tempered. We’ll stay there. “Yeah, but, you’ll want me at the hotel?”
He laughed. “There’s one Motel 6 about fifty miles out on the interstate. You’re staying at my house.”
A dark sense of foreboding dripped into her bloodstream. Escaping the overwhelming presence of Wade every day had been the one thing that had kept her in this job so long. He had the kind of personality—and good looks—a woman needed to take a break from.
For reasons of sanity. And to catch her breath.
“I don’t mind the drive.”
“CC.” He pinched the bridge of his nose again, his patience clearly at an end.
He didn’t have to say anything else. She could read his thoughts from the exasperation in his voice, and she took pity on him. He sounded tired, and she reminded herself that he was dealing with a lot today. Plus, he was letting her out of her contract early—she’d sleep in the damn henhouse if he wanted.
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand at him in surrender. “But don’t think I’m cooking or cleaning for you. That is not part of my job description.”
CC had hired a woman named Mrs. Duncan when she’d first started with Wade to take care of the apartment and cook for him when he was in Denver. She was worth her weight in gold. For any parties or events, she hired a reputable firm.
He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find someone local who can take care of that.”
&nb
sp; “And I’m not touching your dirty underwear, either.”
He laughed this time. “I do know how to use a washing machine, you know?”
CC snorted. She sincerely doubted Wade had ever used such a contraption in his life. “You’re going to give them to your mother, aren’t you?”
He shrugged with that smile of his, revealing his even teeth and the deep brackets on either side of his mouth like long-ass dimples. “She’s going to insist.”
Oi… Did the man have no shame? “I’ll make sure whoever I get is fine with all domestic chores.”
Reaching for the can of Red Bull, CC brought it to her lips and drained it, wishing it had been spiked with vodka. She hoped they sold the energy drink in Credence, because she couldn’t live under Wade’s roof while going cold turkey on her favorite pick-me-up.
She might not be responsible for her actions, and being thrown in the local jail cell for strangling Credence’s blue-eyed boy in his sleep would not be a smart move.
Wade paced around his office. He’d left CC frowning at her computer screen and clicking madly as she made the first of what he knew had to be many calls to rearrange his schedule. He’d told her he was going to try and get some words down. She clearly didn’t believe him but had waved him away distractedly anyway. It soon became evident, however, that between worry about his father and the unsettling thought of his PA deciding she was going to just randomly resign on him, there was no way he could stare down that prick of a cursor.
He was not in the mood.
So he stared at the mountains instead as he paced. It was amazing how often just looking at their jagged outline gave him a sense of peace and, more importantly, clarity.
To say CC’s announcement had been a bombshell was an insult to bombs. It had come completely out of the blue, and he’d been…shocked. Also, pretty fucking ticked. She couldn’t resign, damn it. She had six more months on her contract, and…truth be told…he’d been hoping to convince her to stay for a couple more years.