Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(8)


“We were just, ah, talking about scotch,” she said. “Are you two going to the subway? I’ll walk with you.” She formed her lips into a smile. “Have a good evening, Mr. Winter.”

He did not smile back, merely said, in that completely neutral tone that gave no hint as to what was inside his mind, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie.”

She didn’t know that he knew her name. The way he said it—crap. She had to get away. “Shall we?” she said to the girls, her voice just a little too chipper. They followed, having the sense to at least wait until they were out of earshot before unleashing their interrogation. When they were half a block away, Cassie risked a glance back over her shoulder.

He was gone.





Chapter Three


Though it just about killed her, Cassie waited until ten the next morning to call Danny, who had never been a morning glory, even in the brief period when she’d been sleeping with him, and they’d both had to get up at five so he could sneak out her bedroom window and down the fire escape before school. Not that her mother ever would have noticed. Heck, her mother would have sympathized—a high school boyfriend was how she’d gotten knocked up with Cassie in the first place.

“I get it now,” she said, not bothering with a greeting when he finally answered after eight hundred million rings.

“Cassie? What time is it? Huh?”

“Sex. I get it now.”

“What?” Suddenly he wasn’t groggy any more, and she laughed, picturing him sitting bolt upright in bed. “You had sex?”

“No! I made out with a guy. Outside, against a wall. Ack—it sounds so juvenile.”

“Oh my God. Who was this guy?”

“That rich guy from the restaurant.”

“You made out with Ebenezer Scrooge?”

She kind of relished being the one with news for once. Usually these calls were about Danny relating his latest exploits. “Actually it turns out his name is Jack Winter.”

“Jack Winter of Winter Enterprises?”

“Um, I guess so?”

“He’s worth, like, a billion dollars, Cass! He’s always on those annual Canadian Business roundups of the richest people. He’s like the thirty-fifth richest Canadian or something. But no one really knows because it’s a private company.”

Danny had majored in business, and given that he wasn’t on the eight hundred million year plan like Cassie, he had spent several years working in marketing. He knew about stuff like who was the thirty-fifth richest Canadian.

“What does Winter Enterprises do?” Please don’t let it be something like killing puppies.

“Real estate development. Commercial buildings at first, resort properties now mostly.”

“That’s okay, right?”

“What do you mean okay? Are you going to invest? Have his babies? Do you need a background check to make out with him?”

“No! Stop asking me questions. I just made out with him once. It’s done.”

“Yeah, but you get sex now. The man singlehandedly makes you quote-unquote get sex, and that’s it? You’re throwing him over?”

“I was exaggerating. It was just that he was…”

“What are you trying to say? That he was better than Mark? Wait.” There was a theatrical pause. Cassie knew what was coming, but she let him have his fun. “Are you trying to say he was better than I was?”

“I’m saying I get what all the fuss is about now.” Sex used to seem to Cassie like just another complication. Going to school, working more than full time, the odd social event—it was more than enough. Why waste time fumbling around awkwardly with strangers when she could produce reliable, efficient results with her trusty Hitachi Magic Wand?

“Welcome to the human race, my friend. I’m just a little miffed that I couldn’t have been the agent of this wonderful revelation.” Danny was forever trying to push her at guys. He’d been advocating casual sex for years, and for years Cassie had ignored him, going home alone when he caught the eye of some handsome stranger at a bar on their nights out. “What did he smell like?”

What did he smell like? Danny was such a weirdo. “Um, scotch?”

“Scotch isn’t a smell; it’s a taste.

“It is too a smell. He smelled peaty.”

“Like a bog?”

“Like scotch! Peat and…lemon?” She surprised herself with that last bit. It was true, though she hadn’t been able to put her finger on the lemon part until she’d been pressed.

“So he’s like a lemon tree growing in a bog.”

She burst out laughing.

“Cassie, wait—you know how it works, right?”

“Yes, I know how it works, Danny!”

“I don’t mean how it works works, I mean condoms and stuff.” He paused. “And heartbreak.”

“I’m not an idiot. Use condoms. Don’t get your heart broken. That about cover it?”

“It’s just that you can be so innocent in some ways, Cass.”

“Gah! It’s not happening again anyway,” she reminded him. “At least not with him.”

“But he’s opened the floodgates, hasn’t he?”

Jenny Holiday's Books