“What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded as we reached the table.
“It means you used to be lovely. Sweet. Voluptuous,” he added as his gaze swept across my breasts. “You were soft, like sinking into a dream. Now you’re hard and rigid, just like every other rich bitch who thinks she runs the show.”
“Fuck you,” I gritted.
“Love to,” he said. “I’m free now. Are you?”
I knew that was his way of asking me if there was anything going on with Caz.
“You know what? I don’t need this,” I decided as I stalked back to the library where he had placed my purse. I had my own set of keys. He couldn’t keep me there against my will.
I quickly learned I was wrong. My purse was no longer in the spot where he left it. I turned to Dev, who leaned against the other wall. “So this is what we’ve reduced to? Kidnapping?”
He chuckled as he straightened. “How can it be kidnapping when you want to be here?” He turned back to the dining room, forcing me to follow.
Two plates were now set upon the table. A uniformed maid finished lighting the candles on the table before she gave me a polite smile and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Sexy maid in her uniform?” I asked. “A little cliché, don’t you think?”
He sat at the head of the table, where he pulled one of the linen napkins into his lap. “What can I say? I’m living my fantasies these days.”
“You are such a bastard.”
“Right as always, Mrs. Masters,” he said before digging into a bite of his meal.
“I’m not your wife, Devlin. How many times do I have to make that clear?”
“Marry someone else and I might believe you,” he said as he drank some wine. “But face it, Coralie. You’ll never get me out from under your skin.” He looked back up at me. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been ready to fuck two men just so you could be with me again.”
I hated how he could still read me like a book. “I hate you.”
“And yet if I touched you, we’d be in that bedroom within ten minutes and you know it. That’s what you hate most.” He pointed to the plate. “Now, please. Griselda has prepared a lovely meal. Let’s not let it go to waste.”
I held out for a moment more before I finally sat at the table. Maybe if I just indulged him, he’d get bored with me and let me go.
Long quiet minutes passed before he finally said, “So tell me what you think you know about overture.”
“How about you tell me what it is, and we’ll compare notes?”
“No,” he said.
“Then no,” I responded.
He leaned back in his chair and watched me. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal. We each get one question and one answer. You can ask any question you want, and the answer can be as simple as declining to answer. But for this one date, I will do my best to answer one of your questions.”
“This is a date?”
His eyebrow lifted. “Is that your question?”
“No,” I snapped. “I want to know what overture means to Suzanne.”
He chuckled softly. “You really want to waste a question on something I’ve already answered?”
“So what’s the point? No is going to be your answer for everything.”
“No is still an answer, Coralie,” he pointed out. “If I ask you to drive with me to Vegas, tonight, and get married, you’d say no.”
“You’re damned right I’d say no.”
“And that’s still an answer,” he said. “You’d expect me to respect it. And to accept it. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”
I took a deep breath. “So I’m supposed to just magically come up with the question you might answer?”
“Consider it a challenge.”
I glared at him for a long moment. “Do you love Suzanne?”
“No,” he said.
“Is that the answer? Or is that the refusal to answer?”
He smirked, and damned if it didn’t shoot fire to every single nerve ending. “One question. One answer. Any question. Any answer. But there’s only the one. This date anyway,” he added before letting that suggestion sit a bit. His eyes darkened. “My turn. Do you love Caz?”
I arched my eyebrow. “No,” I responded. Two could play his game.
He laughed. “You were always a quick study, Coralie. One of the things I always loved about you, from the first time you stripped for me.”
I shivered. “Why do you have to torment me, Dev?”
He wagged his finger. “One question. One answer.”
“Fine,” I relented at last. I was exhausted from playing these stupid games. I had too much to do to waste another minute. “Tell me what you want to tell me so I can get the hell out of here.”
“Now you’re getting it,” he murmured. “Tell. Don’t ask.” He drained his glass of wine. “You made an enemy of Suzanne today. She doesn’t like to lose, and your little power play in the conference room was a sure way to draw a bull’s eye on your back.”
“I’m not afraid of her.”
“You should be,” he said softly. “You’re in the big leagues now, Coralie. She has a network of very powerful friends, who have made sure that there is zero accountability or responsibility should the shit go down. And eventually it goes down. I just don’t want you to be buried with it.”
“Why do you care?” I said, before cursing myself for asking yet another question.
To my great surprise, he answered it. “Because I love you. I always did. And I've never stopped.”
“Then why–”
“One question…,” he started.
“One answer,” I answered with him. I heaved a frustrated sigh.
“I know you’re confused. But I really need you to trust me.” I scoffed, but he continued. “I’ll keep Suzanne distracted. It’s what I do best. In return there’s something I want from you.”
Knowing I couldn’t ask another question, I just arched my eyebrow.
“One date every week. You and me. Here at the house, very civilized and proper. And every week, I will answer any one question you might have. This way we rebuild what we lost when we came back to Los Angeles last year.”
“No, thanks,” I declined at once.
“You may want to reconsider, Coralie. Just think. You show the world, and Suzanne, you’re dating Caz, but really you’re here with me. I would be cheating on her with you. Sweet karma.”
My eyes narrowed into slits as I stared at him. “That maybe a fine deal where you come from Devlin, but nothing about that sounds appealing to me.”
His eyes swallowed me whole. “Bullshit.”
I sucked back my gasp. Why ask me anything? He knew it all.
Like magic.
“I’m not interested in your proposal, Devlin. You’ve wasted your time.”
He smiled softly as he rose from his chair. He walked over to where I sat, his crotch practically in my face as he reached into his pocket to withdraw his set of keys to my car. He laid them on the table in front of me before he caressed the curve of my face briefly with his hand, his thumb brushing ever so slightly against my bottom lip. “Time is never wasted with you, Coralie.”
He said nothing more as he walked away from the table and down the hall. When I walked back out to the foyer, I saw my purse returned to the spot I left it. I practically snarled in frustration as I snatched it from the table and marched out the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was greeted by the delicious aroma of spicy Mexican food the minute I opened my front door. I juggled my armful of paperwork from the office as I headed towards the living room. I spotted Caz in the kitchen, an apron fixed around his hips, as he managed several steamy pots on the stove.
“You cooked?” I asked, albeit unnecessarily.
He grinned as he watched me enter the kitchen. “One of my many talents, pussycat. Hungry?”
I nodded. I hadn’t eaten very much at Devlin’s house.
It used to be our house�
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“What’s for dinner?”
“Butternut squash and black bean enchiladas along with vegetarian Mexican rice and a tropical fruit salad,” he announced rather too gleefully, considering the odd combination of food he had just prattled off. “Gretch picked up some beautiful produce at the Farmer’s Market.” He lifted a wooden spoon from one of the pots that contained fluffy Mexican rice full of veggies like corn and peas, feeding me the bite when I joined him at the stove.
“Fraternizing with the help now?”
Again with the big, shit-eating smile. “Always.” He turned back to the oven, where he withdrew our main course, a bubbly, savory concoction in my cast iron skillet he removed carefully using an oven mitt. “Actually she came to me. I guess you told them about our living arrangement.”
“Yeah. It sort of came up today when Suzanne and Devlin called a surprise meeting.”
Caz straightened. “What did they want?”
“They wanted Father to dump the new ad campaign starring my miracle-working coach. She went so far as to suggest an unsavory past, saying she didn’t want to be that closely connected with a possible scandal considering her husband’s ranking in the polls.”
He leaned up against the counter. “And what did you say?”
“I told her that she needed us more than we needed her, and if she didn’t like the arrangement she should go elsewhere.”
His grin got even bigger. “Roar, baby, roar. You keep this up and the student really will surpass the master.”
I thought instantly of Devlin. I shuddered involuntarily.
Caz plated our food and we headed towards the dining room table, where I had deposited all my work from the office. I scooted it to one side so we could eat at the table like civilized people. “I keep bringing this much work home, my place will start to look like Darcy’s,” I commented off-hand.
Caz chuckled as he dug into his plate. “Yeah, she was always a little scattered. It was like she wanted to put as much stuff between her and the world around her as possible.”
I thought about her stepfather. “She has her reasons.”
“I’m sure she does. But things won’t really change for her until she gets rid of the crutches. That includes you, by the way.” Off my look, he said, “With you wearing the face of Youniquely Cabot, she doesn’t have to muster the courage to steal a little of that spotlight for herself. And she should. She’s really good at what she does. But she feels like she doesn’t deserve success. Hence why she’ll never be truly successful.”
“Are you kidding? She’s making money hand over fist with YC.”
“Success isn’t money, CC. You know that. Success is doing that one thing only you can do and being acknowledged for it. She kicks ass at the former while shunning the latter. As long as she does that, she’s telling the universe that she doesn’t deserve these good things. The universe will respond accordingly.” He let that sit while he savored a bite of his food. “If you really want to help her, shine a little light her way.”
“How can I do that? She and Dev come as a package deal. The closer I get to her, the closer I’ll have to get to him.”
“How is that different than now? You just spent the evening with him.” My widened eyes shot to his. “Come on, pussycat. It’s almost nine o’clock. Where else could you have been?” I didn’t confirm or deny, so he asked outright. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” I answered quickly.
“Good,” he commented as he continued to eat. “Don’t. You dodged a bullet the other day and we both know it. He’s like a disease you catch. That fix you just can’t deny. Once he gets under your skin, it takes a lifetime to get him back out again, like a wart that keeps growing back. I’ve seen it happen many, many times.”
“So this has happened before?”
He shrugged. “Most his clients fell in love with him. I mean, that was the point, right? Anyone can fuck you, usually for free. What we sell is fulfillment, and that’s a heady drug.”
I nodded. That much I knew.
“He knew how to provide that fulfillment better than anyone. No matter the client, no matter the situation, he could adapt himself for maximum profit. Like a chameleon. His return business was the envy of everyone at the agency.”
My spirit deflated as a result. It just reinforced the idea that I wasn’t as special as he had led me to believe.
This was why he didn’t want to talk about the business, I decided.
“I guess I’m an idiot for thinking I was different,” I mumbled as I pushed the food around my plate with a fork, my appetite destroyed.
Caz sighed as he studied me. “If it helps, you’re the only one he married.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, and didn’t you tell me a long time ago that was because I was the only one dumb enough to do it?”
He chuckled. “What an asshole thing to say. Sounds just like me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I dismissed, pushing my plate away. “He didn’t get the big payoff he wanted in the end.”
Caz’s eyes swept over me. “Didn’t he?”
I let the conversation drop after that. There was no point rehashing the past. We had a lot to do and not a whole lot of time to do it.
The next day Caz went to the office with me, where he was whisked away to be fitted for a whole new wardrobe he could wear, not only for the print ads but whatever we might do to publicly push the brand. This started officially when Caz took a photo of the food he had prepared the night before, so I could post it on my social media. We deliberated a bit on what kind of hashtags I would use before finally deciding on #homecookedveggiegoodness #mymiracleworkercancooktoo #progressnotperfection #excellenceisahabit.
It not only established the branding of our new campaign, but it also hinted that our relationship was a little more familiar than just trainer/trainee.
To further that cause, we took the afternoon “off,” mostly to hit the office gym where he could take more photos to post. We also ate a healthy seafood meal in a restaurant in Malibu. He wore Men’s Casual and I wore Youniquely Cabot. We posted those photos as well.
#enjoyingfoodfitnessandfriendship #miracleworkersmakethebestdates
That night Oliver emailed me an itinerary of several press events he had gotten us into, including a couple of movie premieres, the taping of the Fierce finale and more fundraisers than I could shake a stick at.
For the next few months, my schedule was packed full of events to attend and interviews to give.
The first one took place that weekend, when a reporter from a national women’s magazine got her first exclusive with my miracle-working trainer. The interview took place at my private residence, a place where Caz had made himself quite at home. And I knew that this reporter knew that, from the twinkle in her eye as she interviewed us.
“Tell me a little bit about your workout regimen,” she said as she settled into the chair opposite the sofa where Caz and I sat.
He rested his arm along the back of the sofa in a possessive gesture she immediately recorded in her notes. “CC is a busy lady, we really have to fit in workouts wherever we can. She has the gym at the office, of course, but we like to get creative. We hike, we bike at the beach; we swim here at the house, things like that.”
She grinned. “Sounds like you’re dating.”
He returned her smile as he leaned closer to me. “Doesn’t it, though?”
He even managed to call me pussycat here and there, just so she could witness that familiarity between us. I knew that this particular publication, which generally promoted how to find and keep a man, would run with that angle.
And of course it did. The interview posted within days. Offers for more interviews poured in like a landslide afterwards. It seemed that after everything I had been through, my adoring public wanted me to get my happily ever after.
I didn’t even know what that looked like anymore.
I did have a good idea what it didn’t look like, and that included the dozens of
dark red roses I found in my office that Wednesday afternoon. I sighed as I walked to my desk and pulled a card from one of the bouquets.
“I know your heart burns with questions. Please be my guest this evening for dinner. Let’s start answering them.”
One question, one answer. That was Devlin’s new game.
I immediately tossed the card in the trash and had Simon send all the roses to the local hospital. Let it cheer up their day, because it only complicated mine.
I couldn’t get him out of my head for the rest of the day, which I already knew had been his plan.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Making it impossible for you to live without me. Is it working?”
Apparently it had and still did. Despite my better judgment, I arrived at the house in Brentwood just a shade before six o’clock that evening. Griselda, the uniformed maid, let me in, took my things and guided me outside to the patio, where I spotted Devlin at the barbecue.
“A little chilly to eat outside, isn’t it?” I asked.
He turned to me, wiped his hands on his apron and closed the distance between us. “I know how to heat things up,” he said with that potent look in his eyes. I was afraid to let him touch me, which he recognized immediately. He held back a chuckle as he guided me across our lawn towards our pool, which featured a fire pit that he had already lit. A bottle of wine sat on the table in between the two chairs in front of it. He poured me a glass as I sat. “Dinner is almost ready,” he said before he headed back to the grill.
As I looked around at the backyard that had virtually sold this house for me, I was reminded of all the dreams that we had shared. He’d killed each and every one of them when he had fucked Suzanne Everhart. I knew the longer I sat there, the more I would dwell on what could have been, including a score of children to romp and play on the sloping green hill, or splash around in the pool.
I closed my eyes and I could picture playing Marco Polo with dark haired children with light, colorful eyes–blue or green. Chloe would sit on top of her father’s powerful shoulders while Remi and I blindly waded around the pool.
Lucy and Gus were part of this fantasy, as well as Axl, their son who was due to make his entrance into the world in almost exactly a month. Likewise my father, my aunt and Aubrey all filled the backyard oasis, as I daydreamed about what it would have been like to entertain there.
Masters Forever (Masters #3) Page 6