Authors: Joan Kilby
“I didn’t even get a chance to show them my marketing strategy,” Cassy said. “I worked my butt off on that. It wasn’t easy because I’ve never completed one before but I figured it out and I’m proud of it. I bet they don’t even read my report when I get it to them.” Her shoulders slumped. “This wasn’t our finest hour.”
No, they’d saved that for the bedroom. And now they were paying for it. Scott dragged a hand through his hair. The adrenaline had worn off and he was fatigued in every cell of his body from lack of sleep, a nagging disappointment, and self-reproach. Cassy, who normally wore a more or less permanent smile, was sad, sober, and worried-looking. Was that just about the presentation or did she regret last night?
They walked out of the meeting room and headed for the elevators. “I need to rest if I’m going to go mountain biking later,” he said.
“Rest as in sleep?” Cassy cast him a swift sideways glance.
“Definitely sleep.” He hit the button for their floor. “What are you going to do?”
“I might take a walk.” She handed him her laptop as the elevator door opened. “Do you mind taking this up for me?”
“Sure, no problem.” As the doors closed on her walking toward the curving staircase down to the lobby it occurred to him that he should have hugged her or kissed her or something. He was preoccupied, and he wasn’t used to thinking of Cassy as a lover. He often forgot to do stuff for his girlfriends. But this was Cassy and he didn’t want to treat her badly.
She’d seemed kind of distant this morning. Was it him, or was she putting up barriers? Since they’d slept together, he was having trouble talking to her the way he used to, joking and saying whatever popped into his mind. He was second-guessing himself.
In the old days, he would have simply asked Cassy to interpret for him. But how could he ask his romance adviser and only true confidant what he should be doing next for his girlfriend, when she
was
his girlfriend?
Chapter Eight
“What are these?” Cassy stared stupidly at the tiny bouquet of delicate white and purple flowers that Scott had just handed to her in their hotel suite. They were exquisitely pretty but it was late afternoon and she had just woken from a nap that had left her not refreshed, but cranky. It didn’t help that she blamed herself for this morning’s debacle.
“Wildflowers.” His legs were splattered in mud below his biking shorts, there was a tear in the shoulder seam of his shirt, and his thick hair had been flattened by his helmet. He waited for her response, shifting from bike shoe to bike shoe.
Women love that shit.
And she would, too, if she didn’t know Scott gave women wildflowers when he was trying to get out of a relationship gracefully, or when he didn’t care enough about them to spontaneously know what they would like. Great. She’d just joined the ranks of the long line of women he’d loved and abandoned.
“They’re weeds, Scott. Did you find them growing at the edge of the parking lot?” She tossed them on the coffee table and walked away. There wasn’t anywhere to go but the bedroom. He followed her in there. Immediately, she turned around and walked out again, fighting tears. He hadn’t kissed her or touched her once since they’d made love.
He grabbed her by the arm with a muddy hand and spun her around. “Stop moving and talk to me. I thought you liked wildflowers. You’re always telling me to give women wildflowers.”
“Exactly. Women! Plural. You give every woman you go out with wildflowers.”
“You said that’s the thing to do. You’re not like the others. You’re my best friend.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know it wasn’t appropriate. Everything I know about how to treat women, I learned from you.”
“Then take my advice and don’t follow my flippant suggestions!” She knew what came next. First the wildflowers, then the perfume, then the jewelry—
more
jewelry, to go with the diamond ring—then the trip to Paris. The final brush-off gift would be a fancy sports car. She knew because more than once she’d guided him through every step of the process. All Cassy wanted was something from his heart. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. What she wanted
was
his heart. Was that so much to ask when she had laid her own on the line? “For an intelligent man, you really don’t have a clue.”
He shrugged, clearly baffled by her reaction. “The white flowers are bellflower and the purple are star gentian. I shouldn’t even have picked them. They’re actually quite rare.”
Of course they were. She dragged her hands over her face. Some cyclists crushed plants beneath their wheels without a second thought, but Scott pulled over and consulted a battered field guide to identify the delicate blossoms. When they had been thirteen, he’d given her a bunch of wild California poppies. She still had those back home in Bellingham, tucked between the pages of her middle school yearbook.
This was terrible. She felt ashamed about snapping at him and she hated second-guessing everything that happened between them.
That’s what happens when you sleep with your best friend. The lines blur between love and friendship.
She had to regain her composure and get their relationship back on the business track. Too much was at stake for Scott not to put all his focus on getting an investor for his Dreamcatcher.
Cassy carefully gathered the scattered wildflowers and found a water glass to put them in. “How did your ride with Lorraine go? Did she say anything about the presentation or the Dreamcatcher?”
“No.” Scott peeled off his leather gloves. “But she was impressed with the geothermal power station. She didn’t give any indication which way she was leaning with her investment. She’s worth billions. Why couldn’t she invest in both?”
“I asked Tod that when I ran into him in the café after you and Lorraine hit the trails. He said Lorraine never invests too heavily in any one geographical region in case of a natural disaster or a political coup.”
“Right, because Mount Saint Helens could blow at any moment and wipe out the geothermal plant
and
my tech company.” Scott drew his soaking-wet shirt over his head and dropped it on the tiled entryway.
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility. The über-rich have their eccentricities.” Cassy tried not to stare at his naked torso. Even goose-pimpled and streaked with dirt, his muscled shoulders and chest were enough to dry her mouth and send a tingling through her body.
“Did Tod say anything about our chances?” Scott asked.
Cassy shook her head, as much to clear her thoughts as to answer his question. “I’m not even sure if we’re having dinner with them again tonight.”
“We’re not. She’s dining with the director of the geothermal plant.” Scott rolled off his filthy shorts and socks and kicked them over to join the shirt on the tiles, leaving him in nothing but his black knit boxers.
Cassy swallowed. Scott would never have casually undressed in front of her before. Clearly, they weren’t “just friends” anymore. But what were they? One night in the sack and a bunch of wildflowers didn’t make a relationship. “So…should we stay another night or not? We’re booked in for the whole weekend and according to Tod, it’s already paid for.”
Hands on his hips, Scott met her gaze with a frown as he weighed up the options. “We have work to do in Seattle.”
If they went back to Seattle, the romantic weekend would be over and despite the train wreck it had been so far, Cassy wasn’t ready for it to end. “I intended to print my report in the hotel’s business center this afternoon but I fell asleep instead. I would still like to do that before we go. Then we could give Lorraine, Tod, and Silvio each a package to take home with them.”
“Good plan. And if we stay, we might get another chance to informally pimp the Dreamcatcher tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” Cassy found a shaky smile. Another chance. It was up to them what they made of it.
“Right. I’m going to have a shower.” Scott started to move toward the bedroom but paused in the doorway. “You know, despite what you advised me, I never gave anyone but you wildflowers.”
“Really?” A flutter of hope beat in her heart.
You’re not like the others.
“I’m sorry I said they were weeds. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
A gleam in his eye, he inclined his head toward the en suite bathroom. “Care to join me?”
Heat flowed from him, enveloping her, and just like that, Cassy melted. She was so easy, it wasn’t fair. All he had to do was look at her and she was putty in his hands. She took a deep breath. “In a minute.”
She waited until he closed the bathroom door before she plucked a sprig of star gentian and one of bellflowers from the water glass and blotted them dry with a clean cocktail napkin. She laid the wildflowers between the pages of the epic fantasy novel she had brought with her, arranging them carefully so that the petals weren’t bent.
Then she unbuttoned her blouse and stepped out of her pants, tossing them and her underwear aside as she walked through the bedroom into the bathroom. She rounded the glass shower partition and found Scott standing naked beneath a stream of steaming water. “Want me to scrub your back?”
A slow, sexy grin curled his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
…
Questions plagued Scott’s mind as he drove back to Seattle the next morning, and they weren’t all about whether Lorraine would invest. What was going to happen between him and Cassy once they were back at his penthouse and back to work? They’d burned up the sheets at the lodge but that had an air of unreality, like a temporary romantic getaway, the business side notwithstanding. Would they continue to sleep together? Would she move into his room? Did he want her to? Where were they heading with this relationship, if they could even call it that?
He glanced sideways at her. She’d been quiet the whole trip, looking out the window at the mountain scenery or checking her e-mail on her phone. He could feel their friendship changing, becoming less straightforward and more complicated. It wasn’t hard to see why. He couldn’t speak his mind freely when he was trying to figure out how she would react to what he said and did. At the same time, he had a powerful need to know what she was thinking and feeling about him.
Whatever offense she’d taken over the wildflowers seemed to have passed. To his dying day, he would never understand women. The funny thing was, he thought he did understand Cassy. Years ago, he had picked her California poppies and she’d been surprised and touched, giving him a solid glow that something so simple could mean so much to her. Much later, she began to suggest wildflowers as a way to placate disgruntled girlfriends. He always agreed, then went to the florist and bought a big bouquet of hothouse roses. He didn’t know much about women but he was pretty sure most wouldn’t be impressed with small, insignificant blooms that wilted quickly.
Cassy was the only woman he had ever known who sincerely appreciated wildflowers. He didn’t want to give them to anyone else. They were special and so was she. Why she had tossed his recent offering at first he couldn’t fathom. And he wasn’t going to risk this tentative peace by asking. It was probably the kind of thing a guy was supposed to know without being told. Did her silence now mean that she was pissed at him again?
“I hope Lorraine gets back to us quickly,” he said, trying to draw Cassy out. “Do you think she’ll decide to invest?”
“It’s hard to say.” Cassy didn’t lift her eyes from her phone. “We shouldn’t put all our eggs in one basket.”
They had chatted once more with Lorraine informally about the Dreamcatcher and Cassy had handed over copies of her business plan and marketing projections. Lorraine was playing her cards close to her chest, saying only that she and her advisers would study them over the next week. She’d resisted another meeting where he could show her his invention in action. He’d tried to pick up his spirits by another mountain bike ride before they left the lodge but it was a deflating end to the weekend given the high hopes he’d entertained on the drive up on Friday.
Scott drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I was so sure that this deal was going to land in our laps. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.”
“Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,” she said, texting someone. “You’ll find an investor. If not Lorraine, then someone else.”
The steep, winding road flattened as they came down off the mountain. He put his hand on her knee and squeezed lightly. “Whatever happens, I appreciate you taking over office management and running interference for me on the social scene. I really owe you.”
“I’ve enjoyed it. In fact, these past weeks have taught me just how bored I was doing taxes. Whatever happens, I’m not going back to that.” She raised her head and blinked. “Do you know, that’s the first time I’ve consciously admitted that to myself. My decision isn’t just because I’m bored with tax accounting. It’s a measure of how much I’ve enjoyed learning new stuff.”
“You’ll always have a job with me. When I get the funding I’m promoting you to chief financial officer.”
“Really, you mean it?” A smile spread across her face. But too quickly for his liking, she returned her attention to her phone.
“Of course I mean it.” He eased his fingers up under her skirt, trying to distract her. In their last encounter in the shower they had very nearly cracked the glass door. He loved that she was enthusiastic about sex. He’d known her for decades and he never would have guessed. It was exciting to think there were other aspects of her personality yet to be discovered and explored. To hell with his doubts about their future. He was going to get her naked again as soon as they got back to his penthouse. His fingertips brushed her panty line and his groin tightened.