12. Carter
Carter
T he response was immediate.
“Why?” Right away, she added hurriedly, as though she instantly regretted the word. “I’m not begging you to reconsider, believe me. I’m just… curious, I guess. I mean…”
“You’re rambling again,” he said, amused.
“Never mind me. Let’s change the subject.”
That was probably the safest course of action, but before they did, he had something to say.
“Don’t, for even one second, think that this is about you; I’m the problem here.
I don’t have time for a relationship. I tried, and believe me, it never ends well.
I’ll be at the office until ridiculous hours around a launch, and I’ll forget to send anniversary cards, and given enough time, you’d hate me. ”
He couldn’t believe he’d talked about that, submitting himself to the wave of anger and pain that usually followed.
It had been five years ago; Harris Toys had made him his first billion, he’d been on top of the world, and she had been by his side.
Elena. Beautiful, intelligent, perfect. He’d proposed after seven months of bliss.
Their wedding had been planned near Christmas, but a few weeks before D-Day, she’d informed him that she was taking off with some actor.
She felt unloved, she’d said. Unwanted. He didn’t pay any attention to her. She deserved more.
Those words had haunted him for so long; now more than ever, they ate at his mind, leaving him bruised.
Before Cassie could ask any more intrusive questions, he said, “So, what are you up to this weekend?”
There was a pause before she replied, “I’ll be writing tomorrow, and on Sundays, I usually spend some time with my family. My parents, my sister, and I have brunch.”
“I see my mother for brunch on Saturdays,” he replied, ignoring the voice that wanted to point out that their schedule fit.
That everything about them seemed to fit.
Cassie
O n Monday morning, Cassie went to work with her Big Girl Panties on.
She’d spent the entire weekend replaying her midnight conversation with Carter, and she’d decided that the responsible, mature, sophisticated thing to do was respect his wishes and keep their friendship as platonic and casual as he wanted it to be.
After all, there was a very good chance that he’d said all those things just to spare her feelings; it sounded better than I’m not particularly interested in mousy little girls who can’t walk a straight line without falling on their asses. If that was the case, she should be grateful.
The issue was that if it wasn’t the case, if he’d actually meant what he said…
well, that was just stupid. Did he realize how much time she spent not paying attention to the people around her?
All her friends and family members had threatened to dismember her at one point or another for being late, absent, or otherwise disappointing them; she didn’t mean to do it, but writing professionally on top of a day job took up a lot of her time – and in all honesty, when she was at it, the world around her disappeared.
She was the last person in the world who’d ever begrudge anyone their passion for their work.
No matter. She wouldn’t push it. He’d just come up with another excuse, and she’d understand that, actually, the problem was her. As things stood now, she could dream that he was into her. It made her feel more confident than she had ever been.
“You look great today, Cassie. Good weekend?”
“Yes, it was lovely,” she replied, smiling at Mark.
He looked at her curiously, and at first, she wasn’t sure why. They were out of the elevator when it hit her: it was probably the first time she’d held his gaze – ever. She hadn’t felt self-conscious at all doing it, either.
“Cassie, hey, before you go, I wanted to know if you feel like scheduling that raincheck. You know, X-men?”
Oh, yeah. She bit her lip, trying to find a way to say no without seeming too rude.
“I watched it this weekend. Sorry.”
“Right. Well, maybe we should go for a drink, then.”
Damn, he was persistent.
“That was what the ladies call a polite brush off, dude,” a voice interrupted, getting her off the hook.
They turned to a small, voluptuous redhead in a white suit.
Lucy. What was she doing on the ninth floor?
“But what she really means is never in a million years. ”
Cassie attempted to send Mark an apologetic look, but she just couldn’t help her smile at the executive assistant’s bluntness.
“Sorry, but she’s right. I’m not… interested in dating.”
“She means in dating you, ” Lucy added as the man retreated.
“That wasn’t very kind.”
“That guy is a creep,” she said, shrugging. “Anyway, I came down to see if you wanted to be my plus one for the Halloween bash at the end of the month.”
Cassie had heard about it, of course she had: Harris Toys invited the most deserving employees to a Halloween Party entirely paid by the company every year. No one with less than three years of seniority could hope to make the cut.
“Why?”
“Because Carter won’t invite you, since his mother is coming, and it’s going to be hilarious if you tag along.”
She had to laugh – the woman was just so endearing, in the most insane sense of the word.
She bit her lip.
“Well?”
“Will he be angry?”
“At me? Sure. You? Nah. Come along, you’ll have fun. Good food, free champagne, chocolate fountain…”
“I’m in.”
The redhead seemed surprise.
“What? You had me at ‘chocolate’.”
Or more accurately, she’d had her at ‘Carter’.
Her good humor dampened when she walked into the open office she shared with the other employees in her department and found Michelle waiting for her at her desk.
What was the issue now? According to the clock hanging above the coffee machine, it was just eight thirty-four, which meant that she was early.
“Good morning, Michelle. How can I help you?”
See? Big Girl Panties were super-efficient.
“Cut the crap. Why was Carter’s PA waiting for you? ”
One. Two. Three. She counted slowly, willing her mouth to formulate something that wasn’t going to get her fired.
“It was a personal matter, Michelle.”
“Right, she’s in your book club, too?”
Right about now, Cassie was mentally adding up her royalties and wondering whether she really needed the job.
Probably not.
Still, she liked her security blanket.
“No – she just wanted to invite me to the Halloween bash,” she replied with a bright smile that hopefully added, you know, the one you’re probably not invited to, because you suck and no employee under your command has given you a high rating.
Michelle looked like she’d sucked on a lemon.
One point for Cassie, zero for her boss.