2. Gideon
GIDEON
The Azure Cay acquisition file sits open on my desk, but I’ve been staring at the same page for ten straight minutes.
That never happens.
I built Carrington International by outworking everyone around me. Focus is not something I lose.
Yet every few seconds, my attention drifts toward the glass walls outside my office.
Toward her.
Cassie moves through the executive floor with impossible energy, her sleek ponytail swaying behind her while assistants practically chase after her for help. She pauses beside Olivia’s desk, laughing softly at something the woman says before taking a folder from her hands.
Three executives immediately stop pretending to work just to watch her smile.
Annoyance twists low in my chest.
Pathetic.
I force my eyes back to the acquisition report.
Azure Cay is supposed to be my priority. The resort chain is worth billions, and if this rollout fails, shareholders will tear the company apart publicly. I should be reviewing projections, not noticing the way Cassie tucks loose curls behind her ear when she concentrates.
A sharp knock interrupts my thoughts.
“Enter.”
My father walks inside without waiting.
Everett Carrington still carries himself like he owns the company, despite the fact that I spent years cleaning up the destruction he left behind. Silver hair. Tailored suit. Permanent disappointment carved into his expression.
“You look tired,” he says.
“I’m working.”
“You’re distracted.”
My countenance changes, instantly. “If you came here to critique my posture, leave.”
He ignores that completely and tosses a newspaper onto my desk. A business article about the Azure Cay acquisition stares back at me.
“The board is nervous,” he says. “This deal puts Carrington International under a microscope.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then stop giving people reasons to question your judgment.”
There it is.
I lean back slowly. “Say what you actually mean.”
Everett studies me carefully. “You’re getting too comfortable with your assistant.”
Ice settles into my veins.
“She’s efficient,” I say flatly.
“She’s pretty.”
The statement punches harder than expected because he’s right, and I hate that he noticed.
Everett sighs. “Gideon, powerful men survive scandals involving money. They do not survive scandals involving women.”
Cassie appears outside my office at that exact moment carrying a stack of revised reports. She pauses when she notices my father inside.
Then she smiles politely.
Jesus Christ.
Warm brown skin glowing beneath the office lights. Gold jewelry catching at her wrist. Hazel eyes bright with intelligence and amusement like the world hasn’t exhausted her yet.
My concentration fractures instantly.
Everett notices.
Of course he does.
His expression sharpens with warning. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Cassie walks in before I can respond. “I brought the revised resort projections and fixed the scheduling disaster finance created this morning.”
She places the folders before me effortlessly.
Effortlessly.
“Anything else?” she asks.
I should dismiss her immediately.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Stay. We need to discuss retreat logistics.”
Cassie blinks once, surprised.
Everett watches me like he already knows I’ve lost control of something I can’t afford to lose.
I dislike Elias Ward within thirty seconds of meeting him.
Not because he’s incompetent. Unfortunately, the man is good at his job. Azure Cay’s numbers are strong, the resort renovations are ahead of schedule, and the investors already love him.
I dislike him because the moment Cassie walks into my office, he smiles at her like he’s already decided he enjoys her.
“Well, there she is,” Elias says through the conference screen, leaning back in his chair like we’re old friends instead of negotiating a billion-dollar acquisition. “Cassie Valeen. The woman keeping this company from collapsing daily.”
Cassie laughs softly.
Softly.
That sound has become a problem for me.
“Highly exaggerated,” she says, setting a stack of folders beside my laptop.
Elias looks openly amused. “You say that like nobody’s warned me about this place yet.”
“This place,” Cassie repeats dryly, “runs almost entirely on caffeine and panic.”
He laughs again.
I don’t.
Instead, I watch her move around my office like she belongs here. Like she belongs beside me. Bright blouse tucked into a fitted skirt, gold bracelets catching light every time she flips through paperwork. Efficient. Calm. Completely unaware of what she does to my concentration.
“Your executive team forgot to update the investor manifests,” she says, sliding corrected files toward me. “And finance scheduled your media interview during the board briefing.”
I open the folder once before irritation settles in my chest.
“Who approved this?”
“Nobody,” Cassie replies. “That’s sort of the issue.”
Elias whistles low through the speakers. “Jesus Christ.”
Cassie grins. “Welcome to Carrington International.”
The grin hits me harder than it should.
I look away first.
Weak.
Cassie continues reorganizing the disaster my executives created while Elias keeps talking to her like they’re already friends.
“When did you start working with Carrington?” he asks.
“Two years.”
“And you survived?”
“She argues with me constantly,” I say flatly.
Cassie gasps dramatically. “That is such a malicious exaggeration.”
“You threatened to report me to human resources this morning.”
“Because you traumatized a junior analyst before breakfast.”
Elias laughs again.
I’m beginning to resent the sound.
My attention shifts back to the conference screen. Elias is watching Cassie too closely now. Too comfortably.
Something sharp and irrational tightens low in my chest.
Ridiculous.
She’s my assistant. He’s the resort operations director. None of this matters.
Except it does.
Because when Cassie bends slightly over my desk to point at revised flight schedules, the scent of her perfume drifts toward me—warm vanilla and something floral—and my focus disappears completely.
“You’ll need additional security transport for the board members arriving separately,” she says.
I clear my throat once. “Fine. Handle it.”
“Already done.”
Of course it is.
Elias shakes his head. “You know, Carrington, if she quits, your entire company might actually collapse.”
“He’s not wrong,” Cassie says lightly.
I should end the call.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Cassie will be joining us at Azure Cay for the full retreat.”
Her head lifts immediately.
Surprised.
Elias smiles. “Good. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
No, he’s looking forward to flirting with her.
And for reasons I absolutely refuse to examine, I already hate it.
Cassie stays in my office another twenty minutes under the excuse of reviewing retreat schedules.
I’m fully aware the excuse is mine.
She sits across from me with one leg crossed over the other, tapping polished gold nails against her tablet while reorganizing problems my executives somehow failed to notice.
Again.
“Your legal team rescheduled the investor dinner without informing security,” she says. “Which means half the transportation plan is now useless.”
I barely glance at the document. “Fix it.”
“Already did.”
Naturally.
Silence settles briefly between us, comfortable in a way silence with nobody else has ever been.
Cassie studies me over the edge of her tablet suddenly. “You know, you spend an alarming amount of time glaring at people.”
“I’m listening.”
“No, seriously. Half the executive floor walks around looking emotionally hunted.” She points toward me dramatically. “You sit there like you’re actively planning murder.”
A rough sound almost leaves my throat before I stop it.
Cassie’s eyes widen instantly. “Oh my God. Was that almost a laugh?”
“No.”
“That absolutely was.”
“It wasn’t.”
She grins like she’s won something. “Wow. Historic moment. I should notify the media.”
Against my better judgment, I feel the corner of my mouth threaten to move.
Dangerous.
Cassie notices immediately, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“There it is,” she says softly, smiling wider. “You actually do know how to act human.”
Something tight shifts unexpectedly in my chest.
For a second, I forget every reason this is a bad idea.
Then she stands, smoothing her skirt before collecting her tablet.
“I’ll send the finalized retreat schedule tonight,” she says. “Try not to terrify anyone else before then.”
“No promises.”
She laughs quietly and walks toward the door.
I watch her leave longer than I should.
Long enough to admit the truth after two years of avoiding.
I want her.
Have wanted her from the very beginning.
And no amount of discipline, distance, or control has been enough to make it stop.