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“If you don’t stop crying, I’m forcing you to come to the farm for Christmas,” said Danny, hands on hips, trying to look stern.
She sniffed. “I’ll go to Edward’s house,” she lied.
“After you quit with no notice? Isn’t he mad at you?”
“He’ll get over it.” And it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t going anywhere for Christmas. She was going to stay home and cry and eat leftover mac and cheese and stale cookies.
“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I’m swinging by on my way out of town. If it looks like you’ve been crying, I’m knocking you out caveman style and throwing you in the trunk. Be ready for your inspection.”
Cassie smiled through her tears. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jack woke up Christmas Eve morning with an idea. Last night he’d contemplated walking into Edward’s with a briefcase of cash—that’s how much he wanted this done. But if Cassie was “not at that address,” did that mean she wasn’t working there anymore?
He’d gone over and over in his mind all the possible reasons Cassie might have for not accepting his money. Some kind of late-breaking remorse? Perhaps she had a shred of decency in her that made her realize she couldn’t take his money after she’d deceived him so badly. The frustrating part was that he’d proposed the business deal independent of everything else—Christ, he’d even suggested that they not fuck around. She wouldn’t have had to pretend anything. He wondered if maybe it was about Junior, as unlikely as that seemed. But despite how angry he was at her, he couldn’t believe she was the kind of person who would settle for someone like Junior no matter how much money he had.
But it would explain why suddenly she didn’t care about fifty thousand dollars.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. All he wanted was to pay his debt and be free to stop thinking about it all. And the solution had been right under his nose the whole time. He had Danny’s number in his phone. Whatever twisted reasons Cassie had for refusing the money, he was pretty sure Danny wouldn’t share them.
He rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table.
It’s Jack Winter. I owe Cassie some money, and I’d like to pay her, but I’m having trouble getting ahold of her. Can you help?
He was on his way to the shower when the buzz of an incoming text summoned him back.
You asshole, you owe Cassie a lot more than money. You’re lucky she won’t tell me where you live.
Jack sighed.
Look, I just want her to get what she’s owed.
A nice check to go with her broken heart? Sorry, can’t help you. I’m too busy picking up the pieces of the aforementioned heart. Ass. Hole.
What the hell was he talking about? Had Junior thrown her over already?
???
Motherfucking entitled rich ASS. Don’t pretend you don’t know. Stop texting me.
I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I know Cassie doesn’t want to see me, but I can’t just not pay her for a business service she provided. How about I make the check out to you, and you buy her something with it?
Silence. Damn. So much for his obvious solution.
He was so on edge, he jumped when the phone rang in his hand.
Jack picked up, and before he could get a greeting out, Danny said, “Wait. What?”
“Will you just give me your address so I can send you a check? She’s refusing delivery at her apartment, and I’m getting ‘no longer at this address’ when I try the restaurant.”
“She quit.”
Jack thought his head might explode. “It shouldn’t be this hard to give someone fifty thousand dollars.”
“What did you mean when you said you knew Cassie didn’t want to see you?” asked Danny.
“Exactly what I said.”
“So is that why she’s been crying her eyes out over you for the past three days?” Danny shouted. “Because she doesn’t want to see you?”
Jack’s stomach dropped, and it was his turn to say, “Wait, what?”
“You broke her heart, man,” said Danny, his tone less menacing. “You have to know that. You left after the deal was done, without a word. In the middle of the night.”
Hope. A little tiny mote of hope. It felt like a spark. Not even a spark, just the sound of a match striking. “You have it backward,” he said slowly, finding it hard to make his clumsy mouth form the right sounds to propel the conversation forward. “Cassie broke my heart.” Please, please let it be true.
“Why the hell would you say that?”
“Because I saw her text messages to you. About making her say please and all that. She was tired of pretending. She wanted to get out.”
