Chapter 5 #2
Liam raises his eyebrow at Edward, who just shakes his head. “Alright then. Cassy, I will send you the names of the Carson Enterprises employees who will be in the building during the transition and their job duties.”
“Great. I’ll meet with each one and get to know them.”
“Cassy, you don’t need to meet every employee,” Edward says.
“But I want to.”
“Why?” Liam asks.
I shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing how to explain it without sounding weird. Knowing the people you work with helps identify future problems and recognize strengths they are not utilizing. “It is just something I find useful.”
“Then continue to do so,” Edward says. “I want this transition of offices to go as smoothly as possible. There are several large projects I want to explore once everyone is together.”
“Thank you. I promise I am not wasting time.”
“That thought never entered my mind. Liam, we will see you later.”
Edward looks down at me and gives me a smile. “I hope you are hungry.”
“I am.”
It takes us only a few minutes to ride the elevator down to the building’s front door. So much has changed since I arrived this morning. We walk out, and the heat hits me in the face. “Wow, I forgot it was going to be so hot today.”
“The car will be nice and cool,” Edward replies, pointing to the black limo sitting at the curb.
“Is this yours?”
“Yes, but hopefully soon you will consider it as ours. Now come on, before we both need a cold shower.”
Ours? Did he mean what I thought he meant?
“Mr. Carson.” A man in a black suit calls out as he holds the door open. As I glance at him, he seems to be about the same age as Edward, but with long brown hair.
“Peter, I would like to introduce you to Miss Cassy Lincoln. She is my Executive Liaison and has complete access to all company vehicles at all times,” Edward advises.
“Yes, sir. I will inform the other drivers. Miss Lincoln, it is a pleasure to have you as part of the family,” Peter says, tipping his head.
“Thank you, Peter.”
I climb into the car as gracefully as possible, and Edward follows. Once inside, Peter closes the door and heads around to the driver’s seat.
I had never been in a limo before, so I didn’t expect to see such luxury.
Just as Edward had said, the car was cool, almost too cool.
My skirt shifted up when I got in the car, so my sweaty thighs are sticking to the cool leather seats.
I need to pull it down, but I don’t want Edward to see me do it.
I glance over to find Edward texting. This is my chance.
I lean up as much as I can, grasp the edge of my skirt, and pull.
However, it moves only an inch. My stuck thighs won’t let the material pass.
As I attempt once again, I hear a chuckle. Damn it. I peek over and see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “What? Do you find it funny that my fat legs are stuck to your seats?” In a split second, the mischievous gleam is gone, and in its place are eyes blazing.
“What did I tell you about talking down about yourself? You are not fat. You are healthy,” he growls.
“Edward, I am not skinny.”
“I’m damn glad you’re not. Your curves are fucking sexy and shit,” he groans, rolling his eyes.
“Cassy, you turn every man’s head when you walk by.
They all want a chance to put their hands all over those luscious curves.
And I am the lucky bastard who will have the extreme pleasure of enjoying every inch. ”
I think he is ridiculous about other men wanting me, but I hope he is not kidding about wanting me.
“Damn it all,” I growl as I lift each thigh and pull my skirt down.
As I finish, Edward is chuckling. I’m about to tell him to stuff it when the car came to a stop.
Looking out to see where we were eating, I gasp.
I didn’t need to see the sign to know which restaurant we were at.
The two tall robin's-egg-blue doors with the large gold doorknobs gave it away.
“Edward, do you have a reservation at Sauvage?”
One side of his lips turned up into a crooked smile. “No.”
“No? There is no way we’ll get a table in the middle of the lunch service. They book months in advance for lunch and even longer for dinner.”
Peter opens the door and offers me a hand. I know this is a waste of time, but I can’t wait to tell Edward I told you so. I take Peter’s hand and climb out of the limo with more grace than I did climbing in. Edward was out before I knew it, with his hand at my lower back, leading to the doors.
Edward opens the door, and we walk in. I’d never been here.
Over the years, I made a few reservations for Chad.
The lobby was stunning, with high ceilings and marble statues.
A stunning woman steps forward. She should be walking the runway, not a hostess.
“Good day. Do you have a reservation?” she asks.
“No,” Edward replies.
“I’m sorry, sir, we are booked solid.”
Edward glances around the room before turning his gaze back to the hostess. “We would like to dine in the East Room.”
The hostess’s jaw clenched. “Sir, I am sorry, but the East Room is reserved for six or more guests with a reservation. Maybe next time your secretary could do her job and make the reservation instead of eating the box of donuts,” she says, pointing to me.
I gasp as sadness tears through my chest. It is not like I haven’t heard statements like this before, but not in a Michelin three-star restaurant.
Edward’s hand, which was still resting on my lower back, fisted. I looked up to find his pupils jet-black, taking over his sparkling green eyes. Shit, he was pissed.
“What is your name?”
“Claire,” she purrs, giving him a flirtatious smile.
Edward removes his hand from my back, and I miss both the warmth and the protection.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his business card.
I get only a quick glance, and it lists only his name and email address.
Handing it to Claire, he once again puts on his crooked smile and returns his hand to my back.
The man is dangerous just by looking at him, but when he smiles, he is deadly. “Give this to Chef Gowey.”
Claire looked down at the card and read Edward’s name. While ninety-nine-point nine percent of the people in the world would know his name, this twat didn’t. “Sir, Chef is in the middle of lunch service.”
“Do you like your job?” Edward asks.
“Yes, I love it.”
“Then I suggest you take that card to Chef now.”
Claire places her hand on her hips. “Look, Mr. Carson, I don’t know who you think you are, but Chef will not care that some asshole wants to see him.”
Wow, I can’t believe this girl. She is digging her own grave. There is no doubt in my mind that Chef Gowey knows Edward, and by Edward’s cocky expression, he knows him well.
I feel the heat of the day rushing in as someone walks into the restaurant. I glance back to see a well-dressed older couple. The way they are dressed and carry themselves screams wealth. I look back to see Claire looking around Edward at the couple.
“Oh, Mr. & Mrs. Carson,” Claire exclaims as the couple comes up beside Edward.
Edward’s head whips around. “Mom, Dad.”