Chapter 27
CASSIDY
I should be terrified. I’m currently thirty thousand feet in the air, seated in a leather chair that’s softer than my mattress at home, watching the city lights blur into a smear of gold beneath the wing of a private jet.
The interior of the plane is all brushed steel and dark wood. Immaculate and ridiculously expensive. Max sits across from me, his long legs stretched out, tapping away at a tablet. He looks completely unaffected, as if flying to his home for a work session is as mundane as taking the bus.
Jana, the striking brunette flight attendant, approaches. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Wilde? We’ll be landing in about ten minutes.”
“No, thank you, Jana,” he answers, not bothering to look up. “You want anything, Cass?”
“Oh, no. I’m fine.” I pry my fingers from the arm of my chair long enough to wave her off.
“I’ll cook us something once we get home,” Max says. I don’t miss the surprised look on Jana’s face at his response. It probably matches my own. “The car should be waiting for us at the hangar. And I’m only about twenty minutes from there at this hour.”
“You don’t have to cook, Max.”
“Nonsense. We have to eat.” He winks.
Jeez. He really needs to stop doing that. “I can’t believe you live like this.”
“What do you mean?”
I swirl my hands in the air. “All of this. You seem so normal, but have all of this.” I must sound like a loon.
He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. It’s only money.”
I frown. Easy for him to say.
He shifts in his seat. “Please don’t misunderstand.
I’d never want you to think I take all of this for granted.
I’m incredibly grateful for all I have. But Secure Sphere was never about getting rich.
It was a byproduct of something negative.
It’s why these pro bono cases are hard for me to walk away from. ”
There’s a hidden meaning in his words. I can tell by the hurt in his eyes. But with all of the secrets I’m keeping, it wouldn’t be fair to press him for his.
The car waiting at the hangar turns out to be a blacked-out SUV. It whisks us away to a cliff overlooking the Potomac River. When we pull through the gates, I practically press my forehead against the glass. His estate isn’t just a house, it’s a fortress constructed of wood and stone.
Perched precariously on the edge of a bluff, the mansion is a sprawling, over-the-top Craftsman.
It looks like a combination of organic materials and billionaire-scale engineering.
From the Potomac River below, it probably looks less like a house and more like a natural outcropping of the hillside itself, designed to blend into the shadows of the Virginia tree line.
The home is an assembly of horizontal lines and deep, overhanging eaves supported by massive, tapered stone pylons.
The first floor is clad in river rock and fieldstone, grounding the house into the bluff.
Exposed structural timbers made of redwood are joined with oversized copper brackets that have aged to a soft patina.
Massive windows appear to be placed, ensuring every room has an unobstructed view of the river winding through the valley below.
The house is breathtaking. But it’s not at all what I imagined a billionaire would live in. I guess I was expecting the posh digs similar to a reality TV celebrity. But this place suits Max.
The SUV slows to a stop. I barely have time to gather my senses before someone has opened the door for me.
“Thank you,” I greet. The bald gentleman is wearing a dark suit, an earpiece on display. Is this purely because of Max’s financial status? Or was he right? Associating with him does come with a fair degree of danger?
“Yes, miss.”
“Sorry, I don’t have anything fancy prepared,” Max says as he leads me inside. He again seems completely unaffected by the bodyguard or the sprawling home before us. He continues jabbering as if we’re heading into his bachelor pad.
Hmm. Well, I guess we are. It’s just on steroids.
“I haven’t been home much lately, so I’d given my personal chef the time off. She usually stocks enough groceries so I can at least whip up a stir-fry or something.”
The foyer opens up into a living area with floor-to-ceiling windows. They look out over the black, rushing water of the river below. I can’t help but walk over to get a closer look.
“I can give you a tour after we eat, if you like. But now that we’re here, I’m starving.” He chuckles.
Glancing toward the kitchen, I find Max flinging a towel over his shoulder as he opens a cabinet full of spices. This is a side of this handsome man I wouldn’t have imagined.
“I’m a bit of a one-trick pony in the kitchen.” Max reaches for a bottle of wine, opening it easily and pouring each of us a glass. “Sit wherever you’re comfortable. This shouldn’t take me too long. I make this so often I can almost do it on autopilot.”
Max starts pulling ingredients from a refrigerator that’s larger than my entire kitchen. I try to focus on his laptop, set up on the marble island, but I’m failing. Hard.
Watching this mouthwatering billionaire chop veggies and simmer fragrant sesame oil in a wok is the equivalent of domestic porn. Every time he moves, the muscles in his forearms flex, and the casual comfort of this scene feels more intimate than the kiss in Gianni’s office.
“Max,” I say, my voice a little breathless. “Is there somewhere else I can sit and start working? I need somewhere quiet. I can’t concentrate with you... doing that.”
He quirks a brow, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Distracted, Garcia?”
“Maybe.” My cheeks warm. “Is it okay if I take this to your office? I’ll leave the door open and sit with the screen facing the door.” I know there’s a lot of sensitive material on here.
He points down a glass-walled hallway with his knife. “It’s the second door. And you don’t need to do that, Cass. I trust you. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
I retreat to his office with a bit of a pep in my step. I grin. He trusts me. Walking in, I’m determined to break the code until I discover this room isn’t much better than where I left. One wall is entirely glass, framing the moon as it reflects off the Potomac.
Wow. It’s spectacular. I settle into the chair and force myself to stare at the phone records.
The staggered data packets mock me from the screen.
At least until the scent of garlic drifts down the hall.
Between the delicious aroma of the food and the hot guy preparing it, I’m going to be having a whole new fantasy replaying in my head each night.
Max pokes his head in the door. “Come and get it.”
Jeez, if only.
The food is perfect. And the fact this magnanimous man has taken the time out of his day to fly me here and cook me dinner is mind-blowing.
We eat at the island, the silence between us feeling more relaxed than the last time we were together.
The two of us grin at each other over the steam dancing above our plates.
I have to remind myself to let go of any crazy notions popping into my head.
Forget the fact he never corrected me when I said this felt suspiciously like a date.
This is work. Only work.
Max and I continue to smile at one another over bites of food. At one point, the silence starts to feel awkward. He attempts to bridge the gap with some small talk. General questions about cooking and whether I enjoy it.
I explain that I’ve never been a big cook. “And preparing meals for one seems like a lot of work.”
“You’ve never lived with anyone?”
“No.” I fork another bite of food. “I was dating someone a few years ago that felt like it might be headed in that direction, but…” I shrug. “Never worked out. You?”
He lets out a chuckle before a defiant, “No.”
“No one?” I find this surprising, given how he’s been with me. Kind, giving. Until that switch flips and his walls go up.
“No. I dated some in college, but never anything serious.”
I put my fork down. “I’m sure work probably makes it tough. Dating, I mean.”
“Yeah. Something like that.” So that’s the end of that topic. “If you could go anywhere, where would it be?”
My head spins at the abrupt subject change. “I don’t know. Right now, I’d probably enjoy a tropical getaway,” I answer softly. “Somewhere calm, private. But ask me on a different day, and it might be a visit to the fair or a festival. A place that’s new and different, and makes me feel alive.”
He pauses, giving me a curious glance before raising his glass. “To new and different.”
We finish up with dinner, and I insist on clearing and taking care of the dishes.
Max scurries around, placing rinsed dishes in his dishwasher.
It resembles a high-end car wash more than any kitchen appliance I’ve ever seen.
There’s an odd familiarity with him I can’t explain.
Maybe it’s merely because he doesn’t possess an ounce of pretension.
“I’m going to head back to the office, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. Work wherever you’re most comfortable.”
“It feels like I’m so close.” I wave my hands in the air. “It’s niggling at me.”
“I completely understand. Come grab me if you need anything.”
Returning to his office, I try to stay focused on why I’m here. Not get distracted by my surroundings. Like, why are there no personal photos anywhere? Not even one.
“Your face is going to freeze like that.”
I jolt in my chair at Max’s unexpected words. “Oh, you scared me.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask. Any luck?”
“Yes and no. There’s one section I keep returning to, but I haven’t figured out why it’s so important. I’ve learned it’s just my process. I only hope I haven’t gotten your hopes up.”
He steps fully into the room. “You have no idea how much it means to me.” I’m about to interrupt, telling him he doesn’t need to thank me for working on this project.
It’s an honor to have the opportunity. To gain this experience.
But before I can put my thoughts into words, he adds, “Having you here with me.”
Wait. What?
“You mind knocking off for the night?”
My face falls. Is he taking me back home? I knew this night would have to end eventually. But even if I’ve had my head buried in data streams, I’ve enjoyed this night far more than I should.
He reaches out for my hand, and I take it without giving it a second thought.
It feels far too good, my fingers laced with his.
Max leads me down the hall and up a flight of stairs.
As we turn the corner at the end of the hallway, my mouth falls open at the sight.
He has a theater room that would rival a small-town theater.
The walls are upholstered in floor-to-ceiling deep crimson velvet. It looks as if it were designed to evoke the golden age of cinema on a modern, billionaire budget. Instead of standard rows, the room features three tiers of oversized, motorized recliners upholstered in the same supple red velvet.
A fiber-optic ceiling mimics a clear night sky, while antique-gold leaf sconces provide a dim, warm amber glow along the periphery. A massive movie screen dominates the front wall. It’s framed by heavy motorized red velvet curtains that retract as the show begins.
Just behind the back row of seating is a custom-built mahogany bar that serves as a high-end concession stand.
The centerpiece is a commercial-grade, vintage-style popcorn machine.
It sits atop a marble counter, churning out movie-theater-style popcorn that fills the room with a rich, buttery aroma.
We settle into seats before Max pops up to work his magic in the back of the room on a digital display.
The screen comes alive with Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan, and my face splits in two.
I turn to look at him and find him heading my way with a bucket of popcorn and two bottles of water.
Had he been setting all of this up while I was working in his office?
“You’re a Criminal Minds fan too? Or is this all for me?”
“I like Criminal Minds. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be watching a rerun of War Games or Sneakers. But I like 24, The Bourne Identity, and Mr. Robot. Oh, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”
This makes me smile. This incredibly hot, genius, billionaire is so normal. At least from everything I’ve seen.
We share a bowl of popcorn, our shoulders brushing as we sink into the oversized velvet seats. As much as I love Penelope and Derek, I’m not watching the screen. I’m aware of every inch of space between us. The electrical pull between us is now so strong it’s a physical ache.
We’re getting way too close. The off-limits signs are flashing bright red in my mind, and for the first time, I don’t want to look for an exit.
“Thank you, Max.”
“For what?”
“This has been one of the best nights I’ve ever had.”
“That’s sad.”
“No, really. Dinner, and this…” I point to the screen and then the popcorn between us. “A girl could fall hard for a guy like you.”
“Don’t.”