Mad About You

by Joan Kilby

  He wasn’t normally so rude as to read at the table when he had a guest, but after that kiss last night he needed to put some distance between them. Sure, he’d wondered over the years what it would be like to kiss her—even fantasized about it a few times before mentally slapping himself upside the head—but he’d sworn never to cross that line with her. But circumstances had forced him into it and now he was paying the price. He’d tossed and turned half the night, trying in vain to get the sweet, hot taste of her lips out of his mind. Trying not to expand the kiss into thoughts of the two of them naked, in bed…

  “Hey, listen to this,” Cassy said, reading from the newspaper. Her half-eaten bagel and scrambled eggs lay cooling on her plate. “According to experimental psychologist Simon Laham, lust can boost your brain power. Lust! Go figure.”

  The graph on the page before him went out of focus. Was she actually talking about lust or had he projected his own thoughts? “Sorry, I missed that.”

  “He says, and I quote, ‘Because lust is there to essentially lead us to pursue people into bed, which is a very current goal, it tends to focus our minds on the present. People in a lustful state are more detailed in their thinking, focused on the trees rather than the forest, which leads to decomposition of a problem into smaller pieces.’ Blah blah blah. Then he goes on to say, ‘A lustful state causes people to perform better on analytic reasoning problems that involve working through details step by step.’”

  Scott stared at her over his coffee cup. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I thought if you cultivated lustful thoughts you could finish the Dreamcatcher prototype faster. Why did you tell Lorraine Dempsey you’d have it done by next Friday, anyway?”

  “Because she promised me the whole weekend to pitch to her if I took her mountain biking. Don’t worry. I’ll get the prototype done…without resorting to lust.”

  She took a bite of her bagel and eyed him closely as she chewed. “If you did go that route, as your fake fiancée it would be my job to assist.”

  Goddamn. Scott felt his groin tighten and shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He wished he’d never even touched her—not a hug, not a hand-holding. It was like opening a Pandora’s box of desire. Now he would never be able to look at her mouth again without thinking of how she tasted, of how warm and moist and soft she was. “It’s not part of your job description.”

  She tilted her head. “I might consider it a perk.”

  Was she trying to drive him crazy? Then he saw the smile playing around her lips. For God’s sake! She must be teasing him again. He should teach her a lesson about playing with fire, except that he would likely be the one to get burned.

  “Forget that pseudoscience bullshit,” he growled and went back to his journal.

  “You shouldn’t dismiss it so easily,” she said. “You could at least try to get into a lustful state.”

  Scott watched her breasts move beneath her pajama top as she spread jam on her bagel. If only she knew. “Don’t joke about this, Cassy. You and I are friends. I want us to stay that way. I wish we’d never gotten into this mess of pretending to be engaged. Now that we have, we need to lay down some ground rules. No more practicing. I think we’ve proven we can fake it when we need to.”

  “Was that kiss last night fake?”

  Frustration made him thump the table with his fist. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Her smile faded. “You don’t have to get angry. If me working for you is going to change our friendship so easily, maybe we don’t have as much to lose as you think.”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  “Oh, I get the point, all right. You can’t bear the thought of having sex with me. That’s okay. I never wanted to anyway.” She got up to clear her plate away, loudly clattering the dishes against each other.

  “Leave that. The maid will clean up.”

  She kept on clearing, not looking at him.

  “Cassy.” Hell. He’d gone too far. But he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. They had to play this his way. If they fooled around they would end up with nothing. No friendship, and after a time, no romance. He’d eventually grown tired of every woman he’d ever gone out with, or unwittingly treated her so badly she dumped him. He would be devastated if he ever hurt Cassy.

  “Sex complicates things,” he tried to explain. “A relationship is never the same once two people sleep together.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Most people regard that as a good thing. In fact, marriage is founded on that very notion. But don’t worry. I seriously don’t want to sleep with you. I was only teasing.”

  The phone rang.

  Cassy set the dishes on the counter and reached for the receiver. “Hello?” There was a pause then she asked, “May I ask who’s calling? Just a moment.” She held the receiver against her chest. “It’s your father. He read about your engagement in the paper. He wants to congratulate you.”

  “My father?” Scott’s head jerked. He hadn’t seen Ian Thornton more than a dozen times since he’d dropped Scott off at his aunt and uncle’s house twenty-three years ago. The last time was when he was sixteen. “Tell him to get fucked.”

  Cassy’s eyebrows shot up, then slammed down in a frown. “I’m not going to tell him that. I think you should speak to him.”

  “Why should I? He’s never had any time for me before.” Scott had faithfully sent Father’s Day cards every year when he was a kid. In return he’d received Christmas and birthday presents in the mail. Phone calls were rare, actual visits like hen’s teeth. All the while, his father had been in the same state, and for the past ten years in the same city. His aunt had said he was busy with work. That was no doubt true. Ian Thornton owned corporations that owned other corporations. He was a highflier, at the top of the pyramid. Far too busy for his only son.

  “Here he is,” Cassy said into the receiver, then thrust the phone at Scott.

  Ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach, Scott calmly clicked the phone off and handed it back to her. “If he calls again, hang up.”

  He leaned his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. This didn’t touch him, not where it counted. His father was simply another distraction he couldn’t think about right now. He didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with him and Cassy, too. He had to get the prototype finished.

  A pair of soft arms slid around his neck from behind and Cassy put her cheek next to his. Stiffening, he uncovered his face and found himself staring at that damn scratched opal on her ring finger. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m giving you a hug. As a friend. Is that okay?”

  No sass, no seduction. Just the solid comfort and understanding he’d always associated with Cassy. “’Course,” he said gruffly. “Thanks.”

  He swiveled in his chair and hugged her back. Even though he never talked about his father, she clearly knew he had issues with his dad and wasn’t judging him. It felt good to hold her, and be held, but pretty quickly he got the urge to move his hands over her, to skim up under her pajama top to her bare skin. Instead, he pushed her away and rose. “I should get to work if I’m going to get the prototype done by next weekend.”

  “Sure.” She gave him a subdued smile and touched his cheek briefly. Then she headed for the hall that led to the bedrooms.

  Scott watched her go with relief. That had been close. Lust concentrates the mind on problem-solving? Huh! That psychologist had his head up his ass. Lust only concentrated on one problem—getting the woman into bed. That was the worst thing that could happen. Until the prototype was complete and the investment funding was in the bag, he needed to avoid all sexual encounters, especially with Cassy.

  …

  Scott’s gaggle of geeks, as Cassy privately called the techies, were huddled around a laptop in the coffee room when she entered on Monday morning. She cleared her throat and Tom nudged Park, who nudged Leonard, who sloshed the coffee out of his cup. They all stopped talking abruptly.

 
; “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” Cassy glanced curiously at the laptop as she walked past on her way to the coffee machine.

  “Good.” Tom clicked the mouse and the screen went dark.

  What didn’t they want her to see? Surely these three weren’t in on a plot to leak information to PacTech. They hero-worshipped Scott.

  She pushed a few buttons on the expensive, high-tech espresso machine. While she waited for the fragrant dark brew to stream into the cup below, she surreptitiously studied the guys. They were now quietly reading magazines. They were polite and friendly to her but reserved. Only among themselves did they become goofy and animated.

  When her latte was ready, she strolled casually over to the table and sat at the far end. “What were you all looking at on the laptop just now? A funny YouTube clip?”

  “Nothing much.” Tom, who seemed to be the spokesman for the group, flipped a page. “Guy stuff.”

  “Guy stuff. You mean, cars?” she asked.

  Park coughed. Leonard turned bright red and lowered his face until his nose almost touched his magazine.

  Oh my God. It was porn. What a dope she was.

  “Do you want to see?” Park asked. Leonard shoved him in the ribs. Park turned to him with a frown. “Hey, she’s cool.”

  “She’s Scott’s fiancée, you idiot!” Tom snapped at Park. “You can’t show a woman that.”

  “Fiancée? Really? Since when? He was going out with Leslie only last month.” Park turned to Cassy with a hint of suspicion in his gaze. “Sorry, but we’ve never heard of you until last week. Now you’re running the office and engaged to the boss. Scott hasn’t told us a thing, he’s too busy working on the Dreamcatcher.”

  Communication about emotional issues had never been Scott’s strong point, so she wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t filled in his employees on his changed circumstances. Should she trust these guys with the truth? She wanted to. They were loyal to Scott and she wanted an honest relationship with the people she managed. But the truth was complicated. She wasn’t sure she knew what it was herself. These guys might unwittingly let something slip to a reporter and the whole thing would be a bust. Best to keep the fake engagement just between her and Scott.

  “Scott and I are old friends. You know how sometimes best friends suddenly look at each other and realize they have much deeper feelings—feelings of love?”

  “Not really.” Tom gazed glumly at his well-chewed fingernails.

  “I do,” Leonard said. “There was this girl in tenth grade. Juanita. She tied for first place with me in a science competition.” He smiled up at the ceiling. “She was perfect—smart and pretty. She knew all the constellations in both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.”

  “What happened?” Park asked.

  “That summer her family moved to another state. I never saw her again.” Leonard took off his glasses and wiped them on a cloth he pulled out of his shirt pocket. “But every time I look into the night sky I make a wish on her favorite star that I’ll see her again someday.”

  Park smirked. “You see her in your dreams.”

  Tom threw Park a glare. “Shut up!”

  Cassy’s eyes narrowed. There were funny undercurrents here that she didn’t understand. “Anyway,” she said, getting back to her story. “That’s what happened to Scott and me. He asked me to come and work for him and once I was here, well, the attraction that had been hidden for years was blinding.” For her, at least.

  “Funny, he never even acts like you two are dating,” Park said. “Once, he took that girl with the tiny braids into his office and locked his door and they didn’t come out for an hour. I don’t think those noises we heard came from the rowing machine.”

  Cassy rose and picked up her half-drunk coffee. “Scott and I are working together. We have to act in a professional manner, not like a dating couple.”

  She went back to her desk, pushing the conversation from her mind. She did not want to think of Scott and another woman and the noises they made together. He’d dated many women over the years. She knew all about them—sometimes she was on the receiving end of way more information than she felt comfortable with—but now it was different. Their engagement might be fake, but there was nothing fake about her twinges of jealousy and possessiveness.

  She was working on her part of the pitch to Lorraine Dempsey when the phone rang. “Good morning. Thornton NanoTech Limited. Cassy speaking.”

  “Tod here,” Lorraine’s personal assistant announced. “I’m confirming you and Scott as guests of Ms. Dempsey’s this weekend. I’ve booked you a suite in the Salish Lodge at Snoqualmie Falls. Lorraine will expect you both for dinner at seven.”

  A suite. Did that mean two bedrooms? If so, there would be no fumbling over whether or not to share a bed. Good. She was glad. It made sense to keep their friendship sacrosanct. Anyway, another rejection like the one at the breakfast table and her self-esteem would be in the toilet. “That sounds fine. We’ll see her on Friday.”

  She checked her e-mail, flagged items that needed immediate attention, redirected others to Scott or the geeks, and sorted the rest into folders of varying urgency.

  The subject line of the last message read “Cassy Morris. Private.” Interesting. She opened the e-mail and quickly scanned the message.

  Dear Cassy,

  Since Scott won’t talk to me, I’m appealing to you. I assure you I have only his best interests at heart. Can we meet for coffee at, say, three o’clock in the cafeteria in your building?

  Cordially, Ian Thornton

  Cassy studied the e-mail, reading it over a second time. She’d met Ian once, years ago, on a rare visit he’d made to see Scott. Part of her was skeptical. How could Ian pretend to have Scott’s best interests at heart when he’d abandoned his seven-year-old son—albeit to a good home—despite having plenty of money to hire a nanny and a housekeeper?

  Yet his plea touched her. Ian Thornton would be in his sixties by now. Maybe he had regrets. He could be in ill health, even dying, and want to make amends for the lost years. What harm would it do to talk to him? If Ian were dying, Scott would surely change his mind and want to see him. In that case, she’d be doing him a disservice by not keeping this appointment.

  On the other hand, Scott wouldn’t give his approval if she asked him, and he’d be pissed if he found out she’d consorted with the man he considered his enemy.

  “Are you busy?” Scott appeared at the side of her desk, making her jump. His gaze went automatically to the computer screen, just as hers had earlier in the coffee room.

  “Oh! You startled me.” Swiftly, she minimized the in-box. Had he seen the e-mail with his father’s name? Why was she hiding it from him? When they’d been just friends, she’d never hidden anything.

  “Are you okay?” Scott asked.

  “Fine.” She brought up the PowerPoint presentation she’d been working on. “I’m preparing our pitch to Lorraine Dempsey. It’s a tag-team approach. I’ll introduce you and your company, talk up your accomplishments, then hand over to you to amaze and inspire her with what your Dreamcatcher can do. Please, speak in layman’s terms. If she wants technical details, she’ll send her tech guys to pump you for information. After that it’s my turn again with a financial projection that will knock her socks off. You’ll wrap up the session by generously offering to let her in on the biggest nanotechnological advance of the millennium.”

  Scott lounged against the filing cabinet, gorgeous in a simple black T-shirt and narrow-legged gray denim pants. “You know, you were vastly underutilized in the last place you worked. Your boss must have been an idiot not to realize how talented you are.”

  “Since I was my own boss, I think you just insulted me.”

  “What I mean is, why do you limit yourself to accounting? You’re capable of so much more.”

  It was a question she’d been asking herself increasingly of late. Especially since the work she was doing for Scott had stretched and stimulated her. “We don’t know yet
if this presentation is going to do the trick. It’s not something I do on a regular basis.”

  “I trust your judgment.” He was still gazing at her intently. When Scott focused, he poured his whole being into the object of his attention.

  Cassy’s cheeks warmed under his scrutiny. Was he studying her as a scientist might examine a specimen of interest, or as a man looks at a woman he desires? It felt like the latter but maybe that was only wishful thinking. “Well, thanks.”

  He pushed off the filing cabinet. “Take a break. We’re going shopping.”

  “You hate shopping.”

  “This is something that has to be done.” Scott headed for the exit and held the door. “Coming?”

  “I’ll be right there.” So, Scott trusted her judgment. In her opinion, he needed to talk to his father. Ergo, she would keep the coffee date. She opened her inbox, typed a quick reply to Ian’s e-mail, and hit send. But just to avoid an argument until she heard what Ian had to say, she wouldn’t mention it to Scott. She reached in her desk drawer for her purse. “I have to be back by three.”

  “No problem. This shouldn’t take long.” They walked out to the parking lot where his mud-spattered SUV occupied a reserved spot.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re shopping for?” she asked, climbing into the passenger seat. “I don’t like surprises.”

  “I know.” He slanted her a grin as he started the motor.

  She stuck out her tongue at him. Not very mature or professional of her, but right now he was acting like an annoying older brother.

  When they were on the highway heading downtown, she said, “During coffee break, the guys were looking at something on a laptop they didn’t want me to see. I think it might be porn. Not that it’s any of my business.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Oh, that. They use an early version of the Dreamcatcher to record their dreams and watch whenever someone dreams something particularly juicy. Leonard is infamous for his R-rated mash-ups of science fiction. In the last one I saw, he dreamed that Chewbacca got it on with Princess Leia. Then there was the classic where Dr. Zachary Smith and R2-D2 meet in a Turkish bath…”