She risked a peek up from her screen and regretted it immediately: he’d just been looking in her corner – her movement brought his attention to her. Shit.
That’s when, in her mind, she confidently got up, walked straight up to him and grabbed his jacket, kissing him deeply right then and there like they were alone in the world. If it had been one of her books, her protagonist would have done just that. In reality, though, she kept her ass firmly planted on her chair, and blushed like there was no tomorrow.
To her surprise, the corner of Carter Harris’ mouth curled up, although he soon turned to look at everyone else in the room.
“Morning,” his deep voice greeted them. “Don’t mind us – maintenance is redoing the carpet in the three upper floors; we’ll just borrow some of your space for a couple of days.”
Yeah, sure. No worries. Great news.
She was dead. Her nerves would not survive “a couple of days” of seeing Carter Fucking Harris for eight hours straight. With a bit of luck, he’d choose the office behind her back, and she could always do without using the coffee machine nestled against it; that meant she’d only spot him when he came in and left…
Her hopes were dashed as the man carelessly waltzed in the large office right in front of her; as the walls were entirely made of glass, he might as well have been in the same room.
Great. Better get a heart surgeon on speed-dial.
He walked in and made himself at home, placing his cool MacBook on his desk as he talked with Trick, who nodded a lot, without lifting his head from his phone.
Cassie just observed them, hypnotized; so when his gaze offhandedly landed on her, he caught her right in the middle of her ogling.
Perfect. The week was starting out beautifully. She’d get fired for slacking on the job and die of a heart attack, all by Wednesday.
To her absolute shock, and terror, her boss’s boss’s boss – although she might have missed a boss or two in between – smiled directly at her, and winked, before returning to his computer.
Okay, okay. She could skip the panic attack. Quite obviously, she was dreaming the whole thing, there was no way that Carter Fucking Harris was winking at her, frumpy little Cassie Franklin.
Right?
Carter wasn’t sure whether he was amused or irritated by the unforeseen inconvenience that the slender blonde who had taken cover behind her desktop represented. She was a distraction he just didn’t have the time for right then.
It wasn’t her fault, but the girl was adorable. She always made him want to ruffle her hair or pinch her rosy cheeks, which would have been entirely inappropriate, because she was an employee.
Cassandra Franklin – went by Cassie, born 21st of June 1991, valedictorian of her high school, graduated with honors from NYU. Youngest of two sisters, both parents were still alive, still together, and they all met up for brunch every Sunday.
Yes, he’d had her checked one year and seven months ago after she’d fallen on her ass right in front of him on her way to her interview.
He recalled the incident and smiled, shaking his head. She’d worn a polka dot blouse and patent leather shoes, with a headband. Seriously, a headband. All she needed to make the image of shy little schoolgirl perfect would have been a lollipop.
His gaze had dropped to her Barbie pink lips and suddenly he’d wanted her to suck on a lollipop.
Those were pretty lips. His interest piqued, he looked a little closer, catching the long legs under the bloodstained, ruined pantyhose, and the generous curve of her breast that the silken fabric of her top failed to entirely disguise…
He’d looked away. The girl was far too young to incite that sort of reaction from him. Eighteen, nineteen maybe, he couldn’t really tell, but she seemed far more innocent than the sophisticated women he frequented.
He heard her muttering about two left feet and found himself giving her a hand.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, to his surprise.
He wasn’t the kind of guy who called women sweetheart, or babe, or anything of that kind. But she was a sweetheart, that much was obvious. Mistaking her for one of his employees’ teenage daughters, he’d asked, “You’re meeting someone?”
“Yes,” she’d replied, before her head snapped up and took him in.
First, her jaw hit her chest, then her cheeks turned tomato red, and her big does eyes went down to her little feet.
“Yes, I… I’m here to see Ms. Cooper? I have an interview.”
He wiggled an eyebrow; so she wasn’t quite as young as he’d thought then. Good. That meant he could look down again, and properly appreciate the lips.
He liked that the upper lip was plumper than the lower one, giving her pout an irresistible and unique flair, but the pink gloss had to go. He wished he could wipe it off her face, and replace it with a cherry red lipstick.
“You want to intern here,” he guessed, and for some reason, that made her laugh.
“I’m twenty-three, and have two degrees, so no. I’d greatly prefer to be gainfully employed.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise. Twenty-three; eight years younger than him. That didn’t seem bad at all…
“Don’t worry, though, I’m not offended,” she said, smiling, without lifting her eyes up to meet his. How infuriating. “I’m well aware that I look young.”
Carter smiled and showed her to the elevator, resolving to have her background check done right there and then. There was a good chance that she was an industrial spy. No one was so perfectly innocent and sweet. No one.
Except Cassie Franklin, apparently, he had to conclude a few hours later after running through the report he’d asked for. There was no dirt on her, none. And yes, she had been a Girl Scout, there was a picture of a mini version of her selling cookies in pigtails to prove it.
Carter didn’t often think of her, in all honesty; adorable and ditzy wasn’t exactly his type, and she wasn’t high up enough on the food chain to have any reason to make it to his floor, but each time he saw her, he couldn’t help smiling. God, she was cute, and helpless, too. More often than not, she bumped into any available surface and tripped over her own feet.
Glancing at her through the transparent walls of his temporary office, and catching her watching him and Trick, then panic and blush like the darling she was, he smiled again. It was like observing a kitten. He thought he’d miss his incomparable view of the city from his office, but now he was looking forward to a few days enjoying the change of scenery…
There was no questioning why she squirmed. Her panic was a little excessive, but most women he met generally acted the same way – intimidated; some, by the depth of his pockets, others by his appearance. According to the trashy magazines that featured him every other day, he was hot. According to Forbes, he was rich.
Carter wondered what little Cassie was frightened of, his money or his looks?