by Scarlet West
I had no idea what I should tell him. I was jobless. I was afraid of running out of cash. Of building up gaps on my resume. What could I say?
“What’s up?” he asked gently, reading my silence. “You can tell me.”
Suddenly, it was all too much to hold in. I sniffed, and, to my annoyance, realized I was crying.
“What?” he asked again, his voice laced with genuine concern. “Tell me. What happened?”
I sniffed again, searching in my handbag for a tissue. He held one out to me. I felt his fingers touch mine as he passed it across, and a wave of electricity coursed up my arm as my gaze met his.
He was frowning, those blue eyes cloudy. I felt annoyed at myself, and at him, for his scrutiny.
“I’m sorry,” I said, blowing my nose. “It’s just been a tough few months.”
“Tell me,” he said gently. “You never know, I might have more sympathy than you’d think.”
I chuckled ironically. He looked as if he was doing okay. How could he understand my predicament? I recalled Brady’s suggestion that he might be the answer to all my employment problems and decided to risk telling him.
“I had to quit my job because of something that happened there,” I said.
“That’s tough.”
I looked up at him. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were kind. I felt some of the tension in my soul lessen its grip.
“Yeah,” I said.
We didn’t say anything for a while. I felt my anger at Stirling flare and die, like somebody putting out a cigarette. Another feeling took its place – a deep need to cry. I sat quietly and watched the city lights.
“Cassidy?”
“Yes?”
“Wanna tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. “It’s complicated,” I said.
I didn’t want to tell him I had almost been raped by my boss. I had barely told Brady about it – the only one who knew the full story was Ainsley.
“Life can be tough,” he said softly. I remembered something.
“You had a career change too, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“What happened?” I asked.
“It’s complicated.”
His eyes held mine and I felt a return of the annoyance I habitually felt for Adam. Mixed in with it, though, was a new feeling – I could only call it attraction.
“Fine,” I said.
He met my gaze and we shared a flicker of amusement. We were both hiding our stories for now. That made us, to all intents and purpose, equals. I sipped my beer and considered what to ask him next.
“Brady said I should meet you,” he said slowly.
“He did?” I raised a brow, surprised. “He told me the same thing.”
“Really?” He chuckled. “Typical Brady. Full of surprises.”
“Yeah.” I paused. “So? Why did Brady say you should meet me?” I was really interested.
He smiled. “He said you could solve all of my problems.”
“He did?” I felt shocked. “Why did he say that?”
“He says you’re a PR wizard.”
I laughed out loud. “He thinks that?”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. The compliment warred with the bitterness inside me, mixed with a profound sense of defeat.
“He said so,” Adam shrugged.
“So?” I asked after a moment. “Why do you need a PR wizard?”
He looked me in the eye. Took a big sip of his beer. “It’s…”
“Complicated?” I finished.
This time, we both laughed. He lifted his glass and saluted me. I grinned and drank deep. The evening was turning out to be quite fun, after all.
“I don’t know if I can get into it just yet,” Adam said carefully. “Would you like another drink?”
“Yes,” I said, finishing my beer in a big sip. “I actually think I would.”
Life, it seemed, could be full of surprises. And I was rather hoping it had more surprises in store for me, where Adam Stern was concerned. Feeling a thrill of excitement, I turned toward him in the seat, breathing in the scent of aftershave and maleness.
“So,” I said. “It looks like we have plenty to discuss.”
5
Adam
I lifted a hand and waved it, in the hopes that a waiter was passing. I felt an overwhelming urge to stay where I was, to talk to Cassidy before somebody else took the chance to get to know her better.
Easy, Adam. What’re you rushing for? You have all night.
I leaned back in my chair, forcing myself to relax.
“Hi,” I said as a waiter came to the table. “Another beer each?” I raised a brow at Cassidy. She shrugged.
“I think I’d rather have something else this time.”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Want to see the menu?”
“I already know what I want,” she said. “A Mojito.”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Let’s each have one.” I normally favored Manhattan’s myself, if I was in a cocktail sort of mood, but tonight I was ready for adventures. I wasn’t planning to stop with trying new drinks, either, if things went as I wished they would.
The waiter nodded and hurried off to fetch our orders. While he was gone, I leaned back, doing myself the service of studying Cassidy in more detail. Her red lipstick was glossy with the drink she’d just finished, her full breasts pushing at the buttons of her shirt. I felt an overwhelming need to touch her, so I clasped my hands tightly in my lap. My body was aching with the effort of restraining myself. I wanted, very badly, to lean over and plant my lips against her full red ones, to find out if they were as moist and delicate as they looked.
“You’ve found somewhere to stay?” I asked her.
She looked at me searchingly and I felt suddenly shy.
Oh, hell. She thinks I’m asking her if she wants to stay with me. That was dumb. I knew better than to be blatant.
“I have,” she said.
I let out a nervous breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding. “Great,” I said.
The waiter arrived with our cocktails. In vast glasses with powdered Jell-O on the rims and umbrellas, they looked surprisingly good. I lifted mine and saluted her with it. She grinned and pressed the glass to her lips. Red and plump, her lips begging to be kissed. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and hoped my longing wasn’t showing on my face. I wanted, so desperately, to let my hand slide up and down the firm thigh I could feel under the table, just inches from my own.
“Cheers,” she said, putting the drink aside. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, an unselfconscious gesture that set my loins on fire.
I wanted to feel my tongue slide between those rosy lips.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t say that.
“Cheers,” I said instead.
I took a big drink. The drink was potent and, on top of a few days of bad sleep I was already starting to feel its effect. I felt myself reach for the glass and forced my hand down again.
Stop it, Adam. You don’t want to get drunk.
“So,” Cassidy frowned. “You said you’re having PR concerns?”
“Um, sort of,” I said. I sipped my drink again and frowned. “I need to save my image. My company’s image.”
“Mm?” she was leaning forward, and I could see a glow of interest in her eyes. It made me lean forward conspiratorially, too. It was nice to see somebody being interested in my problems, for once.
“You see,” I paused. “I made an uninformed decision. Your brother helped,” I chuckled. “But it wasn’t his fault. We made a decision to do the advertising for a company in trouble. When they went bust, my investors lost their cash, and my company is in danger of losing all of its image.”
I reached for my drink again. Even saying it was painful. I didn’t want to think about it and something inside me feared the way she would take it. I found myself suddenly not wanting her to think badly of me; not to think that I was a careless businessman.
When I lo
oked up again, Cassidy was focused on me.
“Adam,” she said, intensely. “I think Brady had a point. I can help you.”
“You think so?” I asked. I was feeling lightheaded. I blamed it on the drink, but I knew I was as drunk on her as I was on the alcohol. Her words were coming at me slowly, and I had to squint and listen carefully for them to make any sense.
“Yeah,” she said. She was grinning now, the effect striking. Happy, with her eyes shining like that, she was twice as irresistible as before. I felt my cock start to grow, distracting me further from everything she’d said.
“So, I had to deal with a situation like this before,” she was saying. “All we need is to quickly get endorser statements all over your website, along with a retrospective of all the past ace campaigns. We need to mine your books for feedback and find influencers to speak for you. That’s the key nowadays in marketing and PR. Influencers,” she added, pointing a red-nailed finger at me. “You know, if you do all that, you can beat this.”
I reached for the drink again. I was at that stage when, even though I knew it wasn’t a good idea, I couldn’t stop myself. “You think so?” I hazarded.
“Sure,” she nodded. She looked happy. “I do. I think, with my help, you could pull it off.”
I raised a brow. To tell the truth, I hadn’t been following much of what she was saying. I wasn’t a PR expert, whatever she might be. And in any case, I’d stopped listening to what she was saying a while back, finding my focus distracted by her shining eyes, her firm leg, her tits.
“I guess,” I said slowly.
“You know?” Cassidy frowned. She was drinking, too, and I noticed the level of her drink had lowered significantly.
“What?” I asked, focusing more carefully on her face.
“I think we should meet sometime this week to discuss this. What do you think?”
“Sure,” I nodded. That sounded good, even to my drink-fuddled brain. “On Monday?”
“This Monday? Yeah.” She nodded, smiling. “Why not?”
“Great,” I said.
She lifted her glass and raised a brow at me. “Drink to it?”
“Sure,” I said.
We drained our glasses. I blinked again, clearing my vision. I felt better than I had in a long time. “Another?” I shrugged.
She looked at her watch. “Just one,” she agreed. “Then I need to get back home.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
I signaled the waiter and he brought us fresh drinks. I took a small sip, promising myself I would go slowly this time. Cassidy drank a big gulp, and grinned at me, thrillingly.
“Sorry,” she said, still smiling. “It’s been a long while since I felt this good.”
“Oh?” I frowned. I focused on her face. It seemed like she had something important to tell me. I vowed not to drink anything more just yet and leaned back in my chair. “What happened?”
She took a deep breath and started talking.
“I had a job. A good job. I was head of PR at Highgate Group.”
“Wow,” I saluted her with my glass, but put it down before I could drink anymore. She smiled, a pale, tired smile.
“Thanks,” she said. “I enjoyed my work. I was good at it. But the boss…” she shook her head.
“You didn’t see eye-to-eye?” I guessed.
She made a face. “It wasn’t my eyes he was seeing, Adam. Or my work.” She made a sweeping gesture from her chest down to her long legs that were just touching mine under the table.
“You mean,” I paused. “He had a thing for you?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Not a nice “thing”, though. He harassed me.”
I felt a sudden stab of anger. How dare anybody impose themselves on this gorgeous, sweet woman?
“He didn’t stop there, either,” she said, very softly. “I wish he had.”
“You mean he tried something?” I felt my heart almost stop. My rage surprised me, filling me up like a dark flood. I wanted to get to my feet, to find this guy, to beat the living shit out of him right then.
“He tried to force himself on me, yeah,” she said, interrupting the furious haze. Her voice was soft. She wasn’t looking at me and I felt something inside me snap.
“The bastard,” I heard my voice say. It wasn’t anything like my usual voice, though. This voice was raw and harsh, a vengeful hiss, full of rage. “I’d like to force something on him, too. Like a beating he’ll never forget.”
Cassidy was very quiet. I felt the haze of rage clearing and found myself focusing on her face. When I did, I noticed she was crying. A tear ran quietly down her cheek.
I reached across and put my hand on top of hers. She didn’t move it. Her fingers were warm and a little damp from the tears. I squeezed them, feeling my body respond even as my heart ached with sorrow.
“Sorry,” she sniffed. “You’re the first person who’s reacted with such force.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling dumb. That was probably the last thing she needed. “I should have been more thoughtful.” I looked at the table. My beer had left a wet ring on the wood.
“Don’t be sorry,” Cassidy said, a grin twisting her lips. “I’m glad. I think I needed to hear that somebody would fight for me.”
“Of course. I would’ve,” I said recklessly.
When I met her gaze, her lips were lifted in a smile.
“You would? For the nerdy, annoying kid who followed you around all the time?”
I went red. “You know, Cassidy, that was a long time ago.”
“It was,” she said enigmatically. She wiped her tears.
I drained the last drops of my drink, barely aware of having swallowed it.
I closed my eyes, leaning against the chair. It was late, and I had already drunk more than I should. My head was starting to swim – as much from being near Cassidy as from the drink – and I wanted to get to bed.
“Should we call it a night?” I asked distantly.
“Um, yeah,” Cassidy said hesitantly. “I guess I’ll have to take a cab. I was supposed to go back with Brady.”
“I’m taking a cab too,” I said, knowing I had no business behind the wheel. “You can come with me.”
She looked at me. “Really?”
“Sure,” I said, swallowing hard.
“Okay,” she nodded.
I stood and, shrugging into my coat, waited for her to stand to leave. I handed the waiter cash for our drinks as we passed and grinned to myself as he stared after us, round-eyed. I felt good and wanted to make somebody else feel it, too.
Out in the street, the night was still loud. Traffic hissed past, honking and speeding. People laughed and whooped as they went from bar to bar. A woman shrieked. A man laughed. The wind whispered around us.
“Taxi,” I hailed a yellow cab as it appeared in the street. I was having a bit of trouble focusing, but I wasn’t about to let Cassidy see that. I strode confidently to the cab and opened the door for her.
“After you.”
“Thanks,” she said.
I slipped in to join her on the back seat.
“Where’s your apartment?” I asked her.
“One-ten Fulton.”
“One-ten, Fulton street,” I said quickly to the driver, but he was already pulling into the traffic.
I felt the steady throb in my head start to recede, replaced gradually by the awareness that Cassidy was sitting a hand’s width away and that I could smell the shampoo scent of her hair and the faint warmth of her skin. I moved my foot an inch sideways and came in contact with a high-heeled shoe. My cock throbbed. I turned to face her.
“Adam?” she said softly.
I tensed. She was three inches away, and I could see the dewy wetness of her lip where she’d been biting it, her eyes looking up at me slightly unfocused, slightly unsure.
Damn it, Adam, she’s been hurt by a man recently. You don’t want to go scaring her.
I made myself lean back in the seat, keeping my hands on my lap
.
“I’m glad we talked,” I said conversationally.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Maybe we can help one another out.”
I felt my body heat up like fire. “How so?”
I leaned forward, my lips hovering above hers. Her brown eyes stared into mine. She was very close, and I could smell her skin.
“Adam Stern,” she said, thumping me in the chest. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I blushed, shocked at how easily she’d read my thoughts.
“Sorry, Cassidy,” I murmured.
She didn’t say anything. My chest still hurt from where she’d thumped me, though I liked the feel even of that jagged touch on my body. Christ, I was fucked. “Sorry,” I said again.
“There’s no need,” she said quietly.
“I mean it,” I said. “I really do want us to be able to work together. I think we could, um, help each other.”
“Oh?” she raised a brow.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I need your help, Cassidy. And I want to be able to help you.”
We looked at each other. Her eyes were that soft brown I remembered. This close, I could see little flecks of green and gold in them, colors I had never noticed before. I wet my lips, catching a whiff of her perfume. I could feel her leg, really close to mine. My toe was against the toe of her shoe, and the warmth of her bare ankle was pressed against my sock.
“Um, Cassidy,” I murmured.
“Yes?” she responded; her pupils slightly enlarged.
“Is this your apartment?” I asked. We were slowing, turning into a darkened street with trees. She looked out of the window.
“Almost there,” she said softly.
“So,” I said, feeling my entire body protest, wanting her to stay for longer. “You will remember to see me on Monday, right?” I didn’t think I could ask for anything else. Not now, following our misunderstanding.
“Sure,” she nodded, then frowned. “What time?”
“Should we say two o’clock?” I asked. I tried to remember my calendar. I was fairly sure I was free on Monday after twelve.
She shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you then. Here we are,” she added, as the taxi stopped outside a tall building with bright lights showing at some of the windows. She fumbled in her handbag on her lap, looking for her purse.