Chapter 25
CASSIDY
I reach for a stack of stray glasses on the second-level balcony, my thoughts drifting to places they shouldn’t.
The club is relatively quiet tonight. There are only four of us working, just Candice, Lala, Brier, and me.
The dim atmosphere usually feels safe, but my nerves are raw, like a storm is rolling in.
Maybe there hasn’t been enough happening to keep each of us busy, so my mind is wandering.
I’m straightening a velvet chair when a shadow falls over me. I spin to face the stranger, heart hammering against my ribs.
“Easy, Cass, it’s just me,” Max says, standing a few feet away. He catches me off guard. The usual energy his presence brings is different since our last interaction. But I’m admittedly a little more defensive around him now.
And when did he start calling me by a nickname?
Max looks at me intently, and for a second, starts to say something.
His mouth opens, his posture shifting like he’s about to dive into a deep pool.
Then, he blinks, and the shutters slam back down over his eyes.
I can practically see him retreating behind his high-density firewall.
This guy should have Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” playing in the background like a theme song.
“Are you... free to work some more?” he asks, his voice strained. “I have a few more threads to review on that phone record case.”
“I’m working tonight, Max.” I try to keep my voice steady despite how discouraged I felt, being discarded like a corrupted file. “Maybe in a day or two. I’ve got a big project I’m working on in my off hours.”
“Right. A day or two.” He hesitates, dragging his hand through his hair. “Okay, I’ll be back.” He gives a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking away.
I watch him go, secretly wishing he felt the same disappointment I’m experiencing at not spending time together. He’s probably only upset he couldn’t offload his phone data.
Max Wilde strikes me as a type-A overachiever. He likely has his next five years mapped out on a spreadsheet. Something tells me I wasn’t in the plan.
But even when he’s acting gruff and insensitive, there have been moments where he seems lost. Sure, with my training, I’m probably reading too much into our interactions, looking for answers where they don’t exist. Max made it clear the kiss was a mistake, that he’s not a good man. But I didn’t miss the hurt in his eyes.
Still, I have enough issues of my own. And what’s more, I can’t lose this job.
“You okay?” Fern asks, appearing at my side with a tray of empty flutes. She’s curiously watching Max’s retreat.
I stand up taller, knowing I did the right thing, pushing back. “Yes. Great,” I reply, turning back to my work.
Three Days Later
Max is back, and his energy is... well, off.
He seems overeager, almost frantic for my help.
It’s a complete 180 from the man who brushed me off.
I tell myself this is strictly professional.
Yet as Max scoots a chair over, dragging it right beside his, the scent of his cologne affects me like a love potion.
I have to close my eyes and steady myself so I don’t get caught in his spell.
“Look at this,” he says, pointing to a familiar stream of data.
I sit down, staring at the screen. Why is this file so much harder to sort through than the others? Is it because I’m going in without any background info? It’s far more difficult than any assignment I’ve had in my digital forensics classes.
Or is it that I’m doing this while seated next to him, feeling the heat of his arm inches from mine? Maybe I need some space. There are too many random passersby here. But he’d never let me leave with his laptop.
“I think I’m getting distracted,” I admit, my eyes blurring over the numbers. “I need a quieter location for this.”
He chuckles, the rich timbre doing something inconvenient to my heart.
“Quiet has the opposite effect on me,” Max says softly, looking at me instead of the screen.
“The silence only makes the noise in my head louder.” He pauses, rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his chin.
I can see him weighing his next words. “Maybe a change of scenery would help. Any chance you’d be interested in coming back to my hotel? ”
My eyes are suddenly wide as saucers. The memory of what happened in Gianni’s office comes reeling back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive hum. “I’d invite you to my home office, but we’d have to take the jet at this hour. The traffic from here to my house would be brutal.”
My stomach flips. His home office? That isn’t just a change of scenery. That’s an invitation into Max’s inner sanctum.
“But I’m staying close by at the Windsor. I’m in the presidential suite, so there’s a large dining room we can work at. And I’d be able to give you space if you needed it.”
Space to try to sort through the data without giving me too much access to his laptop, he means. But I understand. He said he’s trying to protect me. And whether I’m disappointed at how he’s back-stepped that moment in Gianni’s office or not, I have no reason to doubt him.
I stare at him, my brain trying to process the invitation. A week ago, I was just a server wiping down tables, and now a billionaire hacker is asking me to his private lair to look at encrypted phone records.
My pulse does a nervous little skip. Calm down, Cass. Stop acting like a lovesick fool. He’s trying to find the best way to accommodate my need for quiet, while still being able to supervise.
The rational part of my brain is screaming, Don’t do it!
We’ve managed to keep this a professional relationship in this environment.
Well, except for that one little mistake.
The two of us alone working in a hotel room could be dangerous.
If we go there, there’s no built-in work-related barrier.
No Gianni nearby to interrupt with a well-timed knock.
No co-workers to pull me away for a glass of water.
It would just be us, the phone records, and that heavy, magnetic pull I’m still pretending I don’t feel.
I should be nervous at the prospect of leaving this secure club. Heading into the unknown with a man who gives me emotional whiplash. But regardless of how things have been between us lately, I trust him.
Looking back down at the screen, the data feels as if it’s mocking me.
I’m an overachiever too. The thought of finally solving this puzzle, and proving I’m not just a pink-haired fascination but someone with real competence, is intoxicating.
I want to find the hidden answer in the data he’s looking for.
And if I’m being honest, I want to spend time alone with him. As risky as that may be.
“The hotel staff has worked with me to ensure I won’t be interrupted unless they’ve been summoned.
My hotspot firewall is secure,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave as if he’s reading my hesitation.
“There will be no distractions. And... I’ll make sure there’s plenty of coffee. Good coffee.” He winks.
Oh, lord. Keep doing that and all bets are off. There will be no focusing on getting the job done with that sexy stuff happening.
I consider his prior warning that he’s not a good man. I think about how he pushed me away after the kiss, his tattered control finally winning out. Should I be worried, being trapped there without an escape?
“I have my own car,” I say, my voice surprising me with its steadiness. I’m not letting him drive me. I need an exit strategy. “And I might only be able to stay for a few hours.”
Max nods, a flicker of something in his deep blue eyes. Is it relief? “Whatever makes you more comfortable, Cass. You can follow me. It’s about twenty minutes from here.”
My heart pounds against my ribs as he tucks his laptop into his bag. I can’t even decide what it is that’s making me so anxious. Leaving here? The chance of finally solving this case?
Or being alone with him?
But going there with him doesn’t feel like an option. I need to do this. Baby steps, I tell myself. Leaving the sanctity of this place for his hotel feels more like a giant leap off a cliff. But as I follow Max toward the exit, I realize I’m already mid-air.
In my dad’s old beat-up car, I follow along behind Max while panic rises in my throat like a bad case of heartburn. The closer we get to his hotel, the more worried I become that I’ve made a terrible miscalculation.
What happens if this quieter change of scenery becomes a precursor to another mistake? One I’ll both be replaying, and probably regretting, for a long time.
I again picture the desk in Gianni’s office. The way my resolve shredded into confetti. I shake my head. It’s not too late to turn back. Just tell him you’ve changed your mind and don’t think it’s a good idea.
Pulling into the space next to Max’s dark gray Audi RS, I turn off my car. The sight of his is a stark reminder that mine might not start when it’s time to go. As I step out and lock it, I catch the odd expression on his face.
Max senses my wariness instantly. He holds up his hands as if trying to reassure me. “It’s the presidential suite at The Windsor, Cassidy. Not some seedy pay by the hour roadside motel.”
I chew on my lip. The fact it’s the Windsor isn’t the issue. Heck, we managed to get it on in my boss’s office the last time.
As if he can read my mind, he adds, “We can prop the door open if you’re afraid of being alone with me.
” He sounds as if he’s trying to coax a child who’s afraid of monsters under the bed.
“I’m only suggesting here versus my home office because I live so far away on the Potomac.
With the traffic at this time of day, it would take forever to get there.
” He runs his hand through his dark hair.
“I usually fly in, but I drove this time. So I’m staying at The Windsor for the next few days. ”
Like going to his home would be any better.