“I don’t think you’ve given this enough thought. I don’t want him keeping you hidden from the world so he can get his jollies somewhere else. But if that’s what he’s doing, you should really consider making sure you’re compensated for your time and effort. Why are you opposed to marriage, anyway?”
Hmm. Maybe because she’s proven it doesn’t work. Not that I told her that. I’ve never confronted my mother about her…issues. However, I have given Matt an earful at times. My brother doesn’t have to deal with her often, which I think he’s grateful for.
After dodging all her comments about money and marriage, I did manage to convince her that things were great and that I need to focus on work. She seemed content when I told her that Chase would be accompanying me to Vegas. That settled her down right quick. Well, until she told me exactly why.
“Since you’ll be in Vegas, you should get married. It’s simple, from what I hear. Not that I’ve been married there. Chad had wanted to get married in Vegas, but we didn’t have the money to go.”
Chad was Husband No. 3.
“I’m not getting married in Vegas, Mom.”
“Why not? Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Mom, let it go.”
“I’m just saying. While you’ve got Chase’s attention, it wouldn’t hurt.”
I choke out a laugh. “Trust me, Mom. We are not ready to get married. And Mom, seriously, you have to keep this to yourself. We don’t want anyone to know.”
I’m not sure she was pleased, but at least she let it go. At that point in the conversation, I should have told her that I was lying, but I didn’t. I have a lot on my plate right now. I don’t need to have to worry about calming the waters that I’ve managed to stir up. It’s my fault, yes, and I fully intend to listen to her complete meltdown on how I let the best thing pass me up, but not until after Vegas.
My phone rings as I’m blankly staring at the television. I glance down at it, squinting to see the name on the screen.
“Shit.” I grab it, then hit the talk button. “Hello?”
“Cassie?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Andrew.”
“Hi.” I have absolutely no clue what to say to this man. This is the first time I’ve talked to him outside of the office since Chase pretty much booted him out my front door.
“How are you?”
“Good.”
I don’t think he had much planned past those few pleasantries because he doesn’t say anything for a second. And really, I have no idea what to say to him at all, so I keep my mouth shut.
“So, I was wondering…”
Keep going. Get it over with.
“I was wondering if maybe we could go out while we’re in Vegas. I got the go-ahead today. I’ll be attending the conference.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Thought I’d offer to buy you a drink.”
Great. Just great.
“Which hotel are you staying in?” he asks.
“Aria. Same hotel as the convention.”
“Me too.” He sounds far too excited. I mean, seriously, it is the same hotel as the convention. Not a coincidence by any means.
“Perhaps we could meet at the hotel bar.”
When he finally stops talking and the silence begins eating away at me, I know I have to say something.
“Cassie?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just a little busy right now.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“So, a drink, maybe? In Vegas?”
“I’m actually going to be there with someone,” I blurt.
“Oh.”
Shit.
I know he’s automatically assuming I meant I’d have a date with me. That’s not the case, by any means. Chase is just a friend, no matter what my mother now thinks. However, in the same sense, I’m not interested in going out with Andrew again. Plus, I really don’t want to deal with the awkward tension when I turn him down. So, does it really hurt anything if he thinks I’m with Chase?
“Yeah,” I say, letting that hang between us.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then?”
“Yeah. At the convention,” I clarify. “I’ll be there.”
After a few more awkward moments, the call ends and I exhale roughly.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
What am I doing? People are going to start thinking that Chase and I really are a couple. Hell, at this rate, I’m going to start thinking it.
What’s that saying?
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Yeah. That’s the one.
Double shit.
Chapter 11
When I asked Chase what his hobbies were, I was a little surprised at his answer. Hockey. Obviously, I countered and told him that was his job, how could it be his hobby? His answer: “When you do what you love for a living, why call it a job?”
—Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition
Chase
JUNE 1
“First class, huh?” I tease Cassie when I sit down in the leather seat beside her. Although she boarded the plane before I did, she graciously left me the window seat. Not that I care either way. They could have put me in the luggage compartment and I would’ve been fine. I’m not high-maintenance by any means.
In fact, I’m used to riding in coach because I’m too cheap to spring for first class. Every time we visit our folks, that’s the way we travel, so to be up here in the fancy section is a little odd. I feel out of my element. Slightly.
When Cassie doesn’t look up from her phone, I nudge her with my shoulder. “Is this your way of bragging about all the money you make?” I lower my voice for effect. “In case no one’s mentioned it, Ms. VP, subtlety is a desirable trait. You might try it on for a while.”
“Shut it,” she mumbles, scrolling through her email on her phone. “You wouldn’t know subtle if it bit you on the ass.”
Maybe not.
I take a moment to look the woman over. She looks as stiff and uncomfortable as I’ve ever seen her. Perhaps it’s those stupid skirt suits she wears. I mean, sure, they show off her legs and her great ass, but so do plenty of other things. Her long hair is pulled back in a tight knot at the back of her head and I think it’s possibly stretching her damn forehead. If she wore glasses, she’d probably look like a librarian, and I don’t mean the hot ones in porn. Why Cassie looks as though she’s closing in on fifty, rather than thirty, I don’t know.
She clicks on an email. Reads it. Ignores me.
Same tune, different day.
Good God, I hope this isn’t what I have to look forward to for the next few days. For some reason, when Cassie invited me to Vegas, I was thinking there would be a little more action. Maybe some gambling, definitely some alcohol, hitting the clubs at night. Less cellphones, more face-to-face conversation.
If she has her way, Cassie will be tied to that damn phone for the entire time we’re there.
The woman is always working. Night, day, it never seems to matter. Except when we go to visit the families. She’s always on her best behavior then, but I figure that’s because she really does enjoy getting away from it all from time to time and my fathers make sure she’s entertained.
I get that she’s some bigwig hotshot for one of the world’s largest technology conglomerates, but seriously. You’d think she could spend a few hours on a plane without having to pull out her laptop. No doubt that will be what she does next.
Sitting back, I stare at the seat in front of me, keeping my cap low to cover my face. There are still people boarding and I’ve already been recognized twice in the airport. I don’t necessarily think it’s because I have a recognizable face that people tend to pick me out of a crowd. It probably has more to do with the fact that I’m six five. My height usually draws attention, and from there people figure out who I am. After all, I am fairly popular when it comes to the media thanks to the fact that I’ve mad
e it my mission to stir up shit as often as possible.
A flight attendant stops by and offers drinks. Of course, I order one. Why wouldn’t I? I’m here to relax. Three days and two nights in the hotbed of sin that is Las Vegas…I’m ready, man. So fucking ready. It’s been one hell of a summer so far, and it hasn’t even started. I haven’t seen Cassie at all in the past week because of her grueling work schedule. It seems a little outrageous that it takes months on end to prepare for a speech, but what do I know?
“Jack and Coke,” I say. “Hold the Coke.”
The woman smiles brightly. Oh, and I get a wink to go with it.
Score.
Glancing over, I can’t help but wonder how much damage Cassie could do if I snatched that phone out of her hand and tossed it out the door. I hate to interrupt her, but she did invite me on this little excursion. I’m sure I can find something to entertain myself with for the next couple of hours, but where’s the fun in that?
Reaching over, I cover her screen.
Cassie’s head snaps up so fast, I’m reminded of the last time I went face-first into the boards.
I grin at the same time she says, “What are you doing?”
Well, really, it’s more of an accusation than a question.
“Communicating. It’s something we did before there were cellphones and Internet to distract us from life.”
“Here you are, sweetheart.” The flight attendant’s sugary-sweet tone draws Cassie’s attention.
I smile up at her as she hands over my glass along with a napkin. Cassie rolls her eyes, which makes me smile.
“Thanks, beautiful,” I respond, using the term of endearment simply to get a rise out of Cassie.
That earns me another wink from the flight attendant and a more dramatic eye-roll from Cassie. The woman moves on, leaving us in peace.
“Where’s my drink?” Cassie murmurs facetiously, her eyes dropping to the screen. “I don’t see her offering me anything.”
“Ask your iPhone,” I tell her. “Maybe Siri’ll tell you.”
Cassie turns her attention to me. “Are you going to be extra irritable on this trip?”
“Depends. Are you going to ignore me?”
“I’m not ignoring you.”
“Sure you are.” I nod toward her phone.
Cassie sighs dramatically. “It’s this thing called work.”
“Okay…Well…” I reach over and rest my head on her shoulder. “Can I watch while you work? I’m bored.”
Cassie pulls away, laughing. “Take a nap or something. I promise, when we get to Vegas, you’ll have my full attention.”
Uh-huh. I’ve heard that before.
—
Two and a half hours later, we land in Vegas and Cassie and I are the first to deplane. It takes a little time to get from the gate to the luggage carousel, but I’m the only one who seems to notice since Cassie’s on the phone, chatting away about…Yep, you guessed it. Videos and microphones and presentations. I think I even heard something about extra cables and plugs.
For fuck’s sake.
No wonder the woman is still single.
She makes absolutely zero eye contact with anyone, but somehow she manages to get from point A to point B without incident. Probably doesn’t hurt that I’m here to make sure she doesn’t stumble right down the escalator. She’s so lost in her own head, she doesn’t know which way is up.
When she finally hangs up the phone, I stop walking and turn to her.
I hold out my hand.
She smacks it, looking at me with confusion gleaming in her steel-blue gaze. “What?”
“Hand over the phone,” I insist.
“What?” Her eyebrows lift. The incredulous look she shoots me is kind of hot. “You’re crazy.”
“You promised to give me your undivided attention.”
“I did not,” she counters, but I can see the blush on her cheeks. She knows she did.
“Fine. One more chance. If I catch you on it again, I’m taking it away from you.” I can’t keep from laughing. As hard as I’m trying to be serious, it isn’t working. Cassie’s a grown woman. Like I can stop her from doing anything.
“Okay. Deal.” She pockets her phone. “There’s a limo waiting for us.”
I shake my head. “Limo. Flaunting that money again.”
“Oh, hush. When’s the last time you took a cab?” She starts walking and I fall into step.
“All the damn time. Whenever I go out. That or Uber.”
“Whatever.”
I shrug. “It’s true. I’m starting to worry about you, Cass. I think you’re out of touch with the real world.”
She knows I love to fuck with her when it comes to money. I’m rich, I won’t deny it. This hockey thing is paying well, plus the endorsements. I’m not hurting, by any means. But I also don’t flaunt it. Some guys I’ve played with are all about the flashy suits, the extravagant houses, the fancy cars, and even private jets. I try to keep things on the down-low. For one, I never know when this gig will be over. If I spend all my money on stupid shit, where will that leave me? My goal in life is to take care of my fathers and not have to get a day job when this is all said and done.
“Fine, tough guy. We won’t take a limo except to and from the airport.”
“Deal.”
I already know this is going to get interesting.
Cassie
I get it. I work too much.
Chase has never let me forget that either.
In my own defense, I’m one of the youngest vice presidents that my company has ever seen. I have always taken my job seriously, especially when I was rapidly promoted up through the ranks. They rely on me to get things done, and therefore, I do so. Hell, I’m working my ass off to get promoted. It’s the main reason I agreed to the keynote speaker gig. I’m looking to crash through that glass ceiling, and based on the feedback I’ve received lately, I’m well on my way to doing so.
With this convention coming up, there aren’t too many things that need to be taken care of, but I insist on being available when my team needs me. Right now, they’re gearing up to head out, wanting to ensure they have everything. Since it benefits me to verify they’ve crossed their t’s and dotted their i’s, I’m going to be checking in frequently.
Thankfully, I’ve got Natalie at the office and she’s keeping the chaos level to a minimum. That’ll likely change when she hops on a plane to join me first thing tomorrow. However, I still can’t see leaving them in the lurch so I can party it up in Sin City. I’m not wired that way. Ultimately, I have my mother to thank for that. In a roundabout way, that is. Growing up, Matt and I didn’t have much, and my mother lacked the ambition necessary to be successful. I vowed at an early age that I wouldn’t be anything like her, and here I am.
When we locate our bags, I instantly reach for mine, but Chase beats me to the punch. He grabs both suitcases and hauls them behind him. He quickly spots our driver, who’s holding a sign that reads DESROSIERS, and the next thing I know, my carry-on bag is taken from me and I have both hands free as I follow the two of them down another escalator to a parking garage. I fight the urge to pull out my phone. I know Chase is serious when he says he’ll take it away from me. And I can’t necessarily blame him. I did invite him and I’ve paid him very little mind, even during the three-hour flight. Reluctantly, I battle back the urge and focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
Nearly an hour later—thanks to Chase convincing the driver that we’d never been here and yes, we would appreciate the scenic tour down Las Vegas Boulevard—we are finally in the hotel, past the concierge and on our way up to the room. Evidently, we’re sharing a two-bedroom suite. Not by choice. I distinctly remember asking Natalie to book us rooms on the same floor. I specifically stated we did not need adjoining rooms. It’s a good thing she’s still back in Texas right now.
Chase lets out a wolf whistle when he steps into the brightly lit living area that has a view of the Strip through the ful
l wall of windows. I expect this from him. The guy makes significantly more than I do, but he loves to give me a hard time. Yes, it’s true, he’s a penny pincher. More so than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m not quite as tight with my money. I’m not sure anyone in the world is. And it wouldn’t matter if I was, he would still pick on me for it. I think Chase looks for reasons to give me crap.
“You swing this on your dime? Or is this a company thing?”
I shake my head in disbelief. He never stops. “It’s a company thing,” I lie. Had I not brought Chase along with me, I would have allowed the company to pay for my room. Since he’s here, I’m footing the bill.
He shoots a look over his shoulder that tells me he knows I’m lying. Thankfully, he drops it.
“So, what’s first on the agenda?” Chase asks, flopping onto the couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m going to unpack,” I tell him. No way will I be able to do anything until I do. It’s part of a stringent routine that I stick to. When I get somewhere, I have to unpack, have to be able to get to everything easily. Doesn’t matter if I’ll be staying a day or a week.
“Unpack mine while you’re at it,” he teases.
I roll my eyes and head to my bedroom. My exit is accompanied by a grunt from Chase and I hear footsteps behind me and then my suitcase is tugged from my grip and lifted onto the bed. Chase is nothing if not a gentleman, I will say that.
Before I can even get my suitcase unzipped, Chase is propped on my bed with the television on, the tablet that controls everything in the room in his hand.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, pulling out my makeup bag and turning toward the bathroom.
I hear the whir of the curtains as they start to open.
“Spending time with you. That’s what you wanted, right?”
I laugh.
The lights in the bathroom turn off, then on, and he laughs.
They turn off, then on again.
“I’m going to have fun with this when you’re taking a shower.”
He’s like a kid with that thing.
“But that is why I’m here, right? To bug the shit out of you? Or did you bring me along to be eye candy on your arm?” he calls out. “I won’t be mad if you did. I could totally see how I could help your image.”
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