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Of course Gage hadn’t changed. Fortunately, Cass’s eyes were wide open and soon she’d be watching him disappear down the highway. It was a fact, and wishing things could be different didn’t mean she was fooling herself.
Alex’s sigh was long-suffering. “This is a mistake. Have all of you forgotten that Gage runs a company that eats into our profits every stinking quarter? He’s our competition, just as much as Lancôme and MAC.”
And that was the bottom line in all of this. How fitting that Fyra’s CFO would be the one to point that out. In marked contrast to the last time they’d been in this room, Alex’s contrariness and lack of confidence had roots in reality, and that sobered Cass faster than anything else could have.
“No one’s forgotten that, least of all me,” Cass countered quietly. “Why do you think I’m cozying up to him? Give me a few more days.”
“Fine,” Alex conceded wearily. “I don’t see how you’re going to prove Gage is involved in the leak while he’s got his tongue in your mouth, but whatever. We don’t have a lot of choices.”
As victories went, it felt hollow. With the leak still undetected, the company could come down like a house of cards. She got that. But it twisted her stomach to have her strategy so cold-bloodedly laid out for her. Yes, she’d planned to keep Gage close for exactly the reasons they’d discussed, but all at once, the idea didn’t sit well. Gage had been...fun thus far. Almost like a friend. A confidante. Everything a lover should be. What if he wasn’t involved?
She liked it better when her partners had been in the dark about her covert plans.
Abnormally quiet, they left the boardroom, and miraculously Cass made it all the way to her office before the shakes started. Nothing helped calm her nerves—coffee, water, a brisk walk at lunch. She had to get it together, had to find a way to produce results.
If Gage was involved in the leak, she had to figure out a way to prove it. To prove she could compartmentalize and that he wasn’t affecting her ability to do her job, once and for all. She buckled down and pored over files and personnel records until she thought her eyes would bleed.
Around three o’clock, her phone vibrated and Gage’s name flashed on the screen. She read the text message.
I’m in the parking lot. Ditch work and play hooky with me.
For God knew what reason, that put a smile on her face. That sounded like the perfect short-term solution to her problems.
Nine
The dark green Hummer sat in the same parking spot as it had the first time Gage had visited Fyra, under a large oak tree saved when the developers poured the concrete for Fyra’s new building.
Shade nearly obscured the monstrosity of a vehicle, but Cass found it easily. With a heightened sense of anticipation, she dashed across the parking lot in hopes of hopping into the Hummer before anyone saw her.
After the unproductive day she’d had, the last thing she should be doing was leaving work at three o’clock. In her current mood, it was the only thing she could have done. Besides, this was exactly where she was supposed to be. She’d promised the others she’d make progress with Gage and the leak. No one had to know she was happy to see him.
Hooky. It used to be one of their favorite code words and it still had the same punch. Maybe more because she was skipping out on the enormous pressure inside the walls of her company instead of a boring lecture in a drafty hall. A little thrill shot through her as she clambered up into the passenger seat of Gage’s car.
God, this sucked. She’d rather pretend they didn’t have any more complications between them apart from where to go so they could spend an illicit couple of hours together. Strictly in the name of sex, of course. Instead, she’d spend their time together with both eyes wide open for any signs of his involvement in her company’s troubles.
“Hey,” Gage said, flashing her a mischievous smile. “I thought I was in for at least a couple of rounds of sexy text messages designed to get you out of your purple cave. Silly me. If I’d have known all it was going to take was one, I’d have been by at lunchtime.”
“It’s Friday.” She waved it off as if she left early on Friday all the time, which was a flat-out lie. “I needed the break.”
Especially if the break involved the man she should be sticking to like Velcro—and not because he was lickable. Which he was.
