Page 74

“Where you can’t have a real relationship with a woman you care about. That’s what you mean, right?”

I shifted in my seat.

“Iamhappy,” I said. I knew that biting those words out contradicted them. I could hear myself. But I didn’t know how to fix myself.

Finally, Cassandra shook her head, looking resigned. “It doesn’t matter. This was never supposed to happen, right? So we can leave it as it is, its own discrete memory just for us.”

“Yeah,” I said. At least this one I’d get to keep.

* * *

I tookthe pictures I needed to, and we’d said goodbye as politely as if we were leaving a corporate meeting. I might have imagined the day as a fever dream, if it weren’t for the way it kept replaying in my mind. The visuals were so intense—not to mention the physical aftershocks. It wasn’t just the sex, either. It was Cassandra, in the cart, telling me about her life. Cassandra, in the sun shower, spinning around like an angel. Cassandra, everywhere, in all my senses, seared there as if for life. The minute I got home, I’d pulled on my trunks and jumped straight into the pool. I swam at least a dozen vigorous laps, letting the water sluicing off my skin take the memories with it. It worked, a little.

But what finally expunged Cassandra Kelly from my brain that night was when I came up for air and saw a pair of black pumps on the pool deck in front of me.

I startled. “Jesus, Lila, you scared the hell out of me.”

“We need to talk.” Her arms were folded across her chest, her phone tucked into her hand.

My stomach dropped a few notches.

She knows.

Had she seen me come home with grass clippings or leaf-blower gas all over my suit jacket? Something worse?

“You’ve been ignoring my texts,” Lila said after I’d gotten dressed. She’d been waiting for me outside on the lounge chair.

Shit—I hadn’t even looked at my phone since earlier this morning.

But Lila looked pissed, but not code-red level, and she hadn’t insisted we talk before I got dressed. It wasn’t Cassandra.

If not that, then what?

“Goldman’s been sniffing around Persephone.”

Lila thought this would put the fear of God in me. But I let out a breath, relieved. Business—this I could handle.

Persephone was a giant bookseller chain that was next up on our operational review slot. They’d booked us in last year.

They were going to be business 101. I’d hardly thought at all of what would come after number 100.

But I wasn’t afraid of losing them. “It’s fine, I’m tight with John,” I said. Getting Persephone’s business had been easy. Their CEO, who was headquartered in the UK, had sought me out, and I’d sold him a full review in half an hour flat. He’d taken all the advice I’d given him so far without complaint.

“Well, he sent us a courtesy email letting us know he was considering going with them.”

The lightest pang of worry hit me. Were my instincts off? Was I getting sloppy?

“I thought you might want to call him to reassure him personally that we’re looking forward to getting to his review. I know how you like to travel.”

I almost laughed. I always took the overseas work, looking forward to the long stints of solitude—at least in my hotel room. Long stints where I could pretend to be someone else, someone who wasn’t entangled in this messy as hell life. It was the only time I enjoyed the company of other women, if I felt like it. But the thought of that made me physically sick.

Still, it wouldn’t do us any good to lose his business, not when I wouldn’t see any return on our work here until the Kellys implemented the plan Brynn had already started writing up.

“Fine, I’ll call him. Anything else?”

Lila hesitated, then folded and refolded her hands. She glanced over to her and Brynn’s place—Brynn was inside, moving around in the kitchen. Then she looked at me directly. “We need to talk about Cassandra Kelly.”

Fuck.