Chapter 7
BLAKE
The house we were renting in Quince Valley was perfect for us—and I hated it.
The place itself was beautiful: a modern three-bedroom bungalow right in town, just off the main strip.
There was a heated pool in the backyard, but more importantly, a two-bedroom guesthouse on the back side of the lot, almost as large as the main house where I stayed.
We could have all shared a single house—it would have been easier on my wallet given I was now footing the bill—but I couldn’t stomach the thought of staying even closer to Lila and Brynn for six weeks.
Even the separated houses didn’t feel like enough.
While I should have been pleased I’d salvaged the Rolling Hills project—for a second time that day—I’d sunk into a shit mood ever since negotiating the deal with Cassandra.
Lila and Brynn noticed, and kept trying to ask what was going on, but I’d said I was just in focused planning mode, which I often fell into at the beginning of these big projects.
It was partially true—over the past week I’d buried myself in work.
But it wasn’t exactly the kind of project planning I usually did.
Half of my time had been spent going back and forth with lawyers over this new contract with Cassandra, and half of it had been dealing with my accountant trying to assess how to cover our stay to conceal the fact I was paying for it from Lila.
But the whole thing was making me feel like a complete piece of shit.
Now, not only was I lying to the world about my life, I was lying to Lila, too.
Several times I considered telling her what had happened between me and Cassandra, and about the new deal I’d negotiated.
But she’d freak out. Someone knew our secret, which meant both the business and our lives were vulnerable.
She’d also insist we bring the project back onto Harrington Consulting’s books, rather than me paying out of pocket.
On top of all that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the CEO herself.
I wanted to turn her resort around. I wanted to show her how good I was at this. I wanted her to like me.
I thought about the way her hair fell across her cheek.
The way she’d walked down that hallway in long, angry strides.
But other times my thoughts were more… base.
Maybe I just wanted to fuck her. Maybe that’s why I’d reacted the way I did on the island.
Maybe that’s why I’d blurted out my secret identity to her.
I wasn’t normally a morose guy, I didn’t think, but this past week had been hugely messed up for my personal identity. I wondered, most of all, if this was what Dad felt like when he was living an elaborate lie. Then I got pissed at myself for identifying in any way with my father.
I’d tried to reach my brother Conrad a couple of times.
He was the only other person who knew about my fake life with Lila, and would mostly listen instead of giving advice.
He was usually a reliable shoot-the-shit-over-beer partner, even over the phone.
But the second time I called he’d texted to let me know things were shit over on his end, too.
I knew he was going through a rough patch with his wife, and his son was taking it hard, and suddenly I felt like an ass for wanting to call and dump on him, too.
My only salvation before Saturday was the pool—when I was fed up with working, I’d spend time swimming endless laps, even during the giant dumps of rain the valley had that week. That part was at least mildly therapeutic, at least.
By the time Saturday evening rolled around, I was in a deeply shit mood.
“You ready?” I asked Lila after coming in her and Brynn’s back door. It was sometime close to sunset—the gray overhead was darkening to a deeper shade of charcoal. At least the weather matched my mood.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Lila said when she saw me.
I was wearing a charcoal suit with a black tie. “I don’t look any different than I do on a workday,” I said. “Except maybe the umbrella.”
“He looks nice!” Brynn said. Lila was dressed and running around looking for earrings or something. Meanwhile, Brynn was in her PJs, looking eager for us to go so she could kick back with a movie. I half wanted to ask if I could join her.
“It’s the dour expression,” Lila said to me in the mirror. She was slashing on that red lipstick she always wore.
I smiled, but it came out a grimace.
“Jesus,” Lila said. “Don’t do that.”
In the car, she inspected me for a long time as I made the quick ten-minute drive up to the resort. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Bullshit.”
I glanced over at her. Rain pecked against the windshield, and for a moment, that and the soft thump of the wipers was the only sound in the car.
Lila was usually good to talk to about whatever was up with me, even if it was about us and our situation.
But I couldn’t talk to Lila about the specifics on this one.
Maybe that’s what was getting at me the most.
“Do you ever feel like quitting?” I asked instead as I turned up the winding road to the Rolling Hills.
“What do you mean? Quitting the business?” Her voice sounded as shocked as I knew it would.
My chest tightened. We’d talked about it before, how long we wanted to keep the business going, but not for years. Back then, I’d said I’d never want to quit. I’d had no reason to.
“Never mind.”
“Maybe someday,” she said, suddenly serious. “Maybe. But Blake, you’re the one who wanted to take this one as far as we could.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. I did know. This business was our whole life. It was our whole identity.
“Are you unhappy?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, realizing how tightly she was holding herself.
She studied me for a moment longer. I didn’t have any sisters, but that’s what Lila was like to me, were anyone to ask. If I were to answer honestly.
“I’m not unhappy,” I said finally, when she didn’t say anything. Maybe it wasn’t true right now, but it was enough of the time that it didn’t feel like a complete lie.
When Lila and I strode through the front doors of the resort a few minutes later, I felt the strangest thing—the faintest kernel of hope.
I’d almost forgotten why I’d wanted to take this job in the first place. While yes, I’d been deeply intrigued by the resort’s CEO, I’d first been wooed by the project itself.
The resort truly was stunning.
The front entrance opened onto an expansive lobby, white marble with a massive modern chandelier overhead.
To the right were the counters for check-in and the entrance to the restaurant.
On the left, a wide hallway led to the rest of the rooms, and directly across from where we stood, a massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the Quince Valley.
A gap in the thick cloud cover had appeared where the river ran out to the horizon, and shafts of light—God’s fingers, Mom used to call them when she was still all there—made the river below twinkle like diamonds.
Inside, a water feature running from one wall to the other, meant to replicate the river, twinkled with underwater lights.
While I’d stayed here for two nights before Lila and Brynn arrived, and had seen the place at this time of night before, I’d never caught it at just this moment.
“Well, I gotta hand it to you,” Lila said. “I think you were right about taking this job.”
Even though my guts were roiling, I still felt the slightest glimmer of satisfaction. “Of course I was. I’m always right about what jobs to take.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “Please. What about the bagel empire on Long Island?”
“It wasn’t my fault they went out of business. They didn’t take any of our advice. We did get free bagels while it lasted, though.”
But Lila was serious now. “I’m worried about you, Blake. And Goldman is cutting it close these days, going after our best prospects.”
Irritation shot through me. That little spark of a positive mood vanished. “I’m well aware. I have faith in this project, okay? And you should too.”
I was tempted to show her my bank accounts to prove my point.
My accountant had been horrified when I’d told him what I was doing. He’d advised me strongly against leveraging my personal assets, but I told him the deal was already done.
“So let me get this straight,” he’d said over a video call. “You’re paying for everything until you get this place on its feet again. There’ll be a gap, too, from when you finish your work and the resort begins earning the kind of money it needs to.”
“Yes,” I said. I’d explained everything to him except the reason I was doing it this way.
He’d shaken his head in disbelief, but in the end, it was my business, my money.
Now, a heaviness slid back over me as once more I thought about the gravity of this situation—how deep I’d gotten myself.
It wasn’t a guaranteed success. Nothing ever was, and with the way Cassandra felt about me, it was more possible than ever that this whole thing could go sideways.
That would not only cost me a shit-ton of money, but the goal I’d been working toward since the beginning: 100 companies saved.
Proof I was a success. The 100th company a resort.
Proof I could do better than him. If I failed at this project, my father would know. He’d never let me forget it.
But I couldn’t think about that. I needed to appear hopeful for this dinner. Excited about the project ahead. Not worrying I’d already fucked it up.
I clenched and unclenched my fists.
While Lila walked the length of the window, peering around the lobby, I adjusted my cufflinks, turning to glance at the clock over the check-in desk.
This dinner was going to be fine. This project was going to be fine.
I’d taken plenty of business risks before.
I’d handled disastrous situations before, too.
Whatever happened, I could handle it. Then the front doors swished open.
What I wasn’t sure I could handle was Cassandra Kelly, looking like sex on a goddamned stick.
I had to restrain myself from groaning. Every image I’d had of her over the past few days paled when I saw her before me.
Cassandra walked shoulder to shoulder with her sister.
Chelsea was objectively very pretty too, but Cassandra—I realized it right at that moment—she was my fucking kryptonite.
She’d poured herself into a dress that hugged her hourglass figure like a glove.
Hers wasn’t the barbie-style hourglass, but a fuller, more luscious give-me-a-handful kind of shape that evoked some caveman gene in my brain.
But it wasn’t just how she looked that made heat pool in my abdomen.
It was the way she held herself—shoulders back, chin up, eyes scanning the massive space and not missing a beat.
Heads turned as she passed, and I felt the strangest kind of protectiveness when I saw the men eyeing her.
Really, I felt like growling like a goddamn guard dog.
She hadn’t seen us yet, so I could watch her with at least a little impunity.
“Jesus, Blake,” Lila hissed, back at my side. She inserted her arm into mine. “Maybe try not to look like you want to eat her for breakfast?”
I’d forgotten about Lila. “I’m fine. She just looks different.” But Lila was right. What kind of asshole looked like he couldn’t control his attraction to another woman when he had one on his arm?
They’d spotted us now, and we closed the distance between us and began exchanging greetings. I deliberately shook hands with Eli, Chelsea, and Jude first, while Lila went for Cassandra. The grumpy lumberjack brother wasn’t here.
Finally, Cassandra was in front of me. For a moment, all I could do was breathe her in. I was used to women being a full head shorter than me, but Cassandra was only a few inches below me, and with heels, we were nearly eye to eye.
“Cassandra.”
Up close her eyes swam with something fierce—she still held onto a spike of anger at me, I could tell. Good—that was a good thing. I knew, once I was in her presence, that I wouldn’t be able to be physically close to her. Just being next to her sent heat pooling in my abdomen.
I held out my hand.
She hesitated, then slipping her fingers into mine. “Blake.”
An ache of something too close to desire scraped across my skin.
I could feel Lila’s eyes on me. I wished I could send her a psychic message. I’ve got this under control. But I didn't have this quite as under control as I should have. Luckily, Cassandra still looked like she wanted as little as possible to do with me. She pulled her hand from mine.
I remembered Conrad, who’d played college baseball, talking about his game face. No matter what you’re feeling, dude, put on that cocky-ass game face and no one will be able to tell the difference, not even you.
While everyone chatted amicably, I leaned into Cassandra’s ear.
I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore her intoxicating scent.
Something soft and warm and intermingled with just…
her. “I’ve got papers for you,” I said, before straightening back up.
I wasn’t sure I could speak if she was swirling in my nostrils like that.
She lifted her chin. “Later.”
I wanted to get this done so I could relax, at least a little.
Until she signed our new contract, everything was a liability.
She knew about me and Lila. She could still fire me.
Hell, she could still fire me after, but I doubted she would once she saw how heavily this contract operated in her favor. “It can’t wait.”
She narrowed her eyes, but maybe she saw the plea in mine, because she let out a breath and said, “Fine.”
To the group, I said, “Should we eat?” I smiled broadly. Game face.
“Yeah,” said Jude. “I’m starving.”
It worked. Everyone joined in with their assent, and with their attention turned to the restaurant, I pulled the envelope out of my breast pocket. “I’ll need this back before Monday. Tonight would be best.”
She snapped her gaze to mine, irritated, I could tell, by my demands. That blue-gray swirl in her irises made my stomach jolt.
“Yes, sir,” she said sarcastically. But those words, fuck if they didn’t make my dick jump.
She took the envelope from me, tucking it into her purse.
Over her shoulder, I saw Lila look back at me, eyes wide and jaw hard.
I forced a smile. “Let’s eat, Cassandra.” Then I walked past her, joining the rest of the slow-moving group headed across the lobby.