6. Carter
Carter
H ow did it feel?
If he was entirely honest, he’d never stopped to ponder it.
He’d been ordinary for his first twenty-something years, then, primarily thanks to Trick, he’d built his company doing what he loved, and expanded.
Somewhere along the line, maybe seven years ago, he stopped being just Carter, the boy from Brooklyn, and became someone people he’d never met knew about.
He knew everyone he met wanted something out of him; favors, money, a job, connections.
The worst thing was, he didn’t usually care – he spent the majority of his time working, and when he was free to do as he pleased, he had every luxury money could buy at his disposal, and the most beautiful women on his speed dial, ready to entertain him on demand.
His life was good; but yeah, most days it didn’t really feel like it. The thing with being at the top of the pyramid was that you often ended up being there alone.
He had Trick, he had his mother, and there were a handful of business associates he counted as friends; he saw them every week. But truth was, unless he needed to fuck, make a social appearance, or work, he was alone with Buddy, his puppy.
When had it started to feel like it wasn’t enough?
He’d been sincere, though. Today, he was good. He’d been excited since he’d finished reading her manuscript the previous night, waiting with anticipation until he could legitimately send Trick on an errand and get her alone. This was going to be fun; the kind of fun he hadn’t had in years.
“Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to retrieve this,” he said, grabbing her stack of papers from his desk.
She stared at it, biting her lips, visibly anxious for something to say. Finally, she replied, “I have it saved on a stick, but thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. It was entertaining; and rather well written, too, although, do women really babble to themselves quite so much?”
A wayward smile slipped on her lips, firmly discrediting his previous opinion; the woman wasn’t cute, or adorable. She was beautiful.
“The quiet ones do. For every word I say, I probably think a good hundred.”
“Jesus, that sounds tiring.”
“You have no idea.”
Her smile soon dissolved, as though she’d suddenly caught herself, probably realizing that she was speaking to her boss, and she dropped her damn eyes back down.
That wouldn’t do.
“Cassie, I’ll be entirely honest with you.
I like your book. I like the fact that you’ve published three other successful ones while working for me.
Hell, I respect you for it. It means that you’re an ambitious go-getter, not afraid of a huge workload.
That makes me curious about you. From one self-employed entrepreneur to another, I’d like to be friends. ”
There it was, all his cards on the table. Halfway through his speech, she’d started staring at him with her mouth hanging open in shock, and she still hadn’t stopped.
“You want to be friends. With me,” she clarified, visibly astonished.
“Yes, Ms. Franklin, if you find it acceptable,” he said formally, smiling to make her laugh.
It worked; she chuckled a little.
“It’s… unexpected.”
She looked suspicious, like she was trying to work out an angle.
“Anyway, you’ll see a few notes here and there – I hope you don’t mind, I’ve taken the liberty to share some of my thoughts.”
A frown marred her features, and she opened the manuscript, quickly skipping to his first notes. Confusion slowly disappeared, replaced by intrigue. Absentmindedly, and without a word, she grabbed one of his Mont Blanc pens from his desk, then sat down on the chair opposite his, and went to work.
It was fascinating; he watched her for who knew how long as she amended things, completely focused on the work at hand.
Every now and then, she’d speak, asking him to clarify something he’d annotated without even raising her head.
“What do you mean by describe when she gets to his office?”
“There’s no indication about their surroundings at all, it doesn’t feel natural.”
She nodded before scribing furiously, lost in her world.
At twelve, Lucy, his assistant, came back from lunch; as instructed, she’d brought back two club sandwiches from the deli down the street.
“Cassie?”
“Mh?”
“There’s some food here. Are you vegetarian?”
She shook her head, ignoring him. Half amused, half perplexed, he found himself cutting pieces and setting food on a plate.
Still absently, she pushed the food past her lips, eating on autopilot.
She didn’t drink until he pushed her cup of coffee close enough for her to see it next to her manuscript.
Jesus, the girl was a danger to herself.
Did she lose herself like that at home when she wrote?
Or… was there someone to make sure she was appropriately fed and watered?
“Cassie?”
“Uh?”
“Cassie, it’s one o’clock. We’ve been up here for a while now.”
That got her attention. She got on her feet at the speed of light.
“ Fuck !” she cursed, making him smile, because he would never have imagined the word crossing her lips. “Michelle’s going to fire my ass.”
“Nonsense,” he replied, amused – she seemed to have forgotten she was speaking to her CEO. “I’ve let her know I’ve detained you.”
She stopped and for the first time, when she looked at him, she held his gaze, visibly trying to read something there. Used to scrutiny, he kept his expression neutral, but to be frank, her observation unsettled him. What was she making of him?
“This,” she said, holding her papers up. “What you’ve done is amazing. I’d offer to pay you if I could afford your consultancy fees.” She cracked a grin he couldn’t do anything but return. “Thank you. I…”
She closed her pretty lips and nibbled at it.
“Spell it out.”
“I’d like to understand why you’re helping me. And I’d like to know how to thank you, too.”
Both questions were equally helpful in figuring out who Cassie was.
She was the kind of person who did things herself; she wasn’t too proud to accept help, but when it came, she didn’t expect it or take it for granted.
In short, she was the opposite of every woman he’d gone out with over the last decade or so.
“Do you bake?”
Her nod didn’t surprise him.
“My consultancy fee is home-baked goods. And I helped because we’re friends, Cassandra. Remember?”
“Friends,” she repeated with wonder, like it was a foreign word she was saying for the very first time. “Okay then.”