“I was a snoop,” she suddenly whispered. His hand went still on her head, and she stared at him with big eyes.
“Were you, now?” he asked, and his fingers started moving again. Curling the hair behind her ear. “Find anything interesting?”
“Not especially.”
“Guess you didn't stumble across my BDSM dungeon, then.”
“Maybe next time.”
“If you're lucky,” he teased.
“I did find some stuff in your closet.”
“Mmmm. My sock obsession,” he guessed, his fingers moving to trace the side of her jaw.
“Sweet jesus, I've never seen so many.”
“I know. I can't resist them. Especially novelty ones. Did you find the ones with lights on them?”
“No. But I did find pictures of your ex-wife,” Cass cut to the chase.
“Ah,” Josh nodded. “Could've saved you the trouble, there's a picture of her on the wall in the living room.”
“There is?”
“By the door. A bunch of us at the ribbon cutting for the hall. She's at the end, on the left.”
“She was very pretty.”
“She was,” Josh agreed, his hand warm against the side of her neck. “She still is. Probably always will be, she has good genes.”
“And good taste in men.”
“That she does,” he nodded again. “I can only hope your taste is as good.”
“Don't hope too hard,” Cassie snorted, and he laughed. Kept his hand cupped on the side of her neck and leaned close, giving her a soft kiss.
“You're very pretty, too, Cassandra,” he assured her, his voice barely above a breath. She licked her lips.
“I've never been with a man who's been married before,” she spoke quickly. “I didn't think it mattered to me, but ... I mean, everyone has an ex, so how is it different? Why does it feel so different?”
“Because when a couple breaks up, it's just the end of something that always had the potential to end. When a married couple breaks up, though, it's the end of something that was meant to last forever. It's hard being with someone who's already made that commitment once. I mean, what if I never want to make it again? What if I make it too easily?”
“What if I'm not as good as her,” Cassie whispered back, and she was grateful when Josh nodded, instead of dismissing her fear with some random compliment.
“It's shit,” he agreed. “I've dated divorced women before, so I kinda know how you feel. All I can tell you is that you're your own person, Cass. I don't compare you to her – that wouldn't be fair to either of you. I can promise you that I am over her. I like you. I asked you out because there was something special about you. Something special that I wanted to be a part of.”
What he was saying was so sweet, it honestly just made Cassie feel even shittier about the whole situation. She pulled the sheets up over her head, hiding from his intense gaze.
“I'm not special,” she mumbled. “I snooped through your closet, Josh. What kind of girl does that?”
“Uh, every one I've ever met,” he laughed, tugging at the edge of the sheet. “Stop it, come out of there.”
“The two of you looked happy in your pictures,” she pointed out.
“Well, duh, we were happy. I've known her since we were fifteen, she was one of my best friends. It was a good marriage, Cass. We loved each other. A part of me will always love that girl. But that doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. Doesn't mean I can't be happy with other people.”
“Yeah ...” she let out a sigh, knowing he was right. Not knowing why she was bringing all this up. She didn't have an issue with him and his wife, not really. She was just ... jealous. Envious.
Sad.
“Here. I've got an idea,” Josh said, and then he was gone. When she heard the closet door open, Cass peeked over the sheet. But when he started coming back, she went back under. A second later, he joined her, yanking the sheets out of her hands and over his own head.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he scooted closer to her, wiggling his arm under her neck. She rolled into him, putting her hand flat on his solid chest.
“Making some happy memories for us,” he replied, and she realized he was fumbling with something in his hand about two seconds before a flash went off. Cass gasped, pressing herself tight to his side.
“What the fuck!?”
He'd left his closet light on, and she could see a little under the blanket. He had an instant camera in his hand, and he handed over the picture he'd just taken.
“Try to look happy this time, like you actually like me,” he suggested. Cassie barked out a laugh, and at that moment, he took the next photo.
“Stop it! You have to give me a second,” she slapped his chest that time.
“What? No, that ruins the whole point. True happiness is caught in the moment,” he informed her. She glared at him, and the flash went off again.
“It's a wonder any woman was happy with you,” she snorted. It was his turn to laugh, and he squeezed her shoulders in a hug.
“Alright, alright. Say cheese,” he ordered. Cass had barely turned to look up at the camera when it went off again. She groaned while he laughed some more.
“You're an awful man, Josh Cavitt. You must destroy all these horrid pictures the moment we wake up,” she ordered. He smiled down at her.
“Can't be too horrible if you're willing to stay the night,” he pointed out. She thought for a second.
“Well, you're also very cuddly.”
He laughed, then dipped his head down to kiss her. She moaned softly and pressed her hand against the side of his jaw. And when the flash went off that time, she wasn't surprised, or startled, or annoyed.
She didn't even notice, because all her attention was on how happy the man next to her made her feel.
12
The next day, in the cab ride home, Cassie sat low in the back seat and stared at the pictures. Smiled and didn't even try to contain her blush.
If they had been of anyone else, they would've looked a little scandalous – they were obviously in a bed, under the blankets, and Josh clearly wasn't wearing a shirt. Her own shirt had slipped off one of her shoulders, so she, too, looked naked in most of the shots.
The first picture he'd taken was the one where she hadn't even known he had the camera. She was against his side, looking up at him, her eyes sleepy and half-closed, a small smile at the edge of her lips. Josh looked very serious, almost stern, as he stared up into the camera with wide, alert hazel eyes.
The second picture, they were both laughing. Cass's mouth was open wide, her eyes shut tight, and she almost would've felt silly, if it hadn't been for Josh's face in the picture. He'd been looking down at her, and was also grinning big. As if her laughing was reason enough for him to smile. The third picture she was playfully glaring at him, and she hadn't realized he'd been staring down at her very seriously.
The next picture was probably the most intense, in her opinion. It was when he'd tricked her into thinking they could pose, telling her to say cheese. She was staring straight up at the camera, her bedroom eyes in full effect, the green sparkling in the flash. Her lips were parted, with a strand of hair caught at the corner of her mouth. Josh's arm was visible around her shoulder, his hand hanging just over her chest, and he was so close to her, his forehead almost touching her head. He was staring at her lips, and he looked like he wanted to devour her.
Cass of course knew there had been nothing sexual happening in that moment. That moment, or in any before or afterwards – it had been a very chaste sleepover, culminating in breakfast in bed for her hangover. While she'd shoveled eggs into her mouth, he'd dashed off to work, leaving her to see herself out.
Before leaving, she'd tossed Micah's t-shirt in the trash, and she'd stolen one of Josh's lightweight sweaters.
The last picture was of their kiss, and it made her heart thump painfully in her chest. God, is that what Josh looked like when he kissed anyone? Or just her? H
e looked like ... like he was happy. Like he was in heaven. Like it wasn't just a kiss, but like they were making love.
She blushed harder, then fumbled with the pictures and shoved them into her jacket pocket when she got out at her building.
There was no evidence of any party having happened, and this time, she did tiptoe past Micah's door. Unlocked her own as quietly as possible before sneaking inside. When she got into her bedroom, her phone buzzed with a text, almost startling a shout out of her.
When she opened the screen, though, she almost laughed. Josh had texted her. He'd taken pictures of their pics before he'd left, and he sent her the one with her looking straight into the camera.
My favorite. You're gorgeous, Cassandra St. John, even to a jaded divorcée like me.
Cassie tittered and indulged in some light squealing, then quickly texted him back.
That one is my favorite, too. And I adore jaded divorcées, especially ones as gorgeous as you.
He texted her back right away.
I knew it, you dirty slut.
She burst out laughing, then slapped her hand over her mouth. Glanced at the wall she shared with Micah. When she didn't hear anything, she took off her jacket. Kicked off her vans and stripped off her leggings. She went to take off the sweater, then buried her nose in the neckline. It smelled like Josh. She smiled, then took off her bra from underneath it before crawling into bed. She fell back asleep with her face buried in the material, breathing him in.
AS “FUN” AS HER CRAZY weekend had been, Cassie was looking forward to going back to work. She smiled and blushed as everyone congratulated her on another hit event, the whole office ooohhhing and aaahhhing over the guest celebrity. Ms. Pressly herself came out to commend Cass, and then reminded her that they had a very important meeting coming up. Cassie assured her boss she was thinking hard about her job options.
Which was a total lie, she'd all but forgotten about her pending life changes, all because stupid boys were distracting her.
She worked for a couple hours, sorting and organizing invoices, answering emails. She was just beginning to think about lunch when she heard a throat clear behind her. She didn't pay attention at first; her desk was in the open area of the office, lots of people worked around her, so there was noise all the time. But then the throat cleared again and she swiveled around to find a huge bouquet of flowers staring at her.
“Uh ...” she stammered, overwhelmed by the two dozen white roses in her face. “Can I help you?”
“I'm looking for a ... St. John? They told me he was over here,” a young guy mumbled, staring down at his order sheet. Cassie laughed and stood up.
“I'm St. John,” she informed him, used to the mistake. “But I have no clue what I did to deserve these.”
“I just deliver them, lady, I don't know nothing about 'em. Sign here.”
Cass quickly signed, then had to wrap the bouquet in a bear hug just to take them from the guy. She hurriedly sat them down, and immediately, women from all over the office were crowding around her.
“Who are they from?”
“Must have been some weekend!”
“You're so lucky.”
“I'll go find a vase!”
She assumed they were from Josh, the silly romantic man. She loved them, but she also didn't want all her co-workers to know she was sorta-kinda seeing another work associate. It might be frowned upon, and she didn't want to make a big deal out of it before it was even a thing. So she waited till everyone wandered back to their duties before she dug out the card.
She was in for another shock, though. It wasn't Josh's name printed on the bottom of the card.
It was Micah's.
How the fuck did he afford this!? He's such an idiot!
She quickly looked over the hastily scrawled note, obviously written by the florist.
St. John -
If this doesn't get your attention, I'm sending a strip-o-gram next. Come see me on your lunch break – don't be a pussy and sneak past my door again. Just talk to me. You like talking to me, remember?
- Micah
p/s – you know I know some strippers, so don't test me
She wanted to be mad at him. He was so high-handed, just demanding and expecting to get whatever he wanted. But she'd be lying if she said a part of her wasn't deeply thrilled. Roses from a guy like Micah? She wouldn't have imagined it possible. And he'd heard her come home that morning, and he'd given her the space she needed, even though he'd known where she'd been all night. She was honestly impressed, and truth be told, she really did want to see him.
She knew it was a bad idea, though. Between him being an asshole and her behaving like a dramatic tween, they'd totally screwed up Josh's night. Invaded his home, then dragged him halfway across the city for a false errand, only to come home to a sleepy and insecure Cassie. It wouldn't be fair to drop him like a bad habit all because Micah had sent her some flowers.
Not some flowers – he sent two dozen of them. And he chose white, not red. He thought about this, knew I would like white better.
Cassie shook those thoughts from her head as her guilt compounded. Micah deserved a chance to apologize, maybe explain himself, but Josh deserved something, too. He'd been treated badly. Used, really. He was a great guy, and he clearly liked her, and she'd ran to him just because she'd known he'd open his door.
That's not true. I ran to him because I like him, too. I just happen to like someone else, as well.
What a mess. She couldn't take it anymore. Her boss was throwing her glances all morning, obviously wondering what Cassie's choice would be – wing her way to Miami for a new adventure? Or take the reins there in the D.C.? A choice would have to be made.
A couple choices. This ends today. I talk to Josh. I talk to Micah. Then I sit down and have a long talk with myself.
She decided to call Micah on his strip-o-gram bluff – he wouldn't send anybody, at least not that afternoon. So she put the roses in the break room so everyone could enjoy them, and so they couldn't distract her.
Then she texted Josh and invited him out to drinks. He responded immediately, the excitement obvious even in his texts. She winced and resisted the urge to make excuses, or to blurt everything out over their messages. Just reaffirmed that they'd see each after work, and then put her phone away. In a bottom drawer. A locked bottom drawer.
Done and done. Now all I need to do is focus and survive this day.
“Ms. St. John!”
Joanna Pressly was standing in her doorway, looking at impeccable as ever in a sharp dress and high heels. She beckoned at Cassie once, then disappeared into her office. Cass grimaced, then gathered her portfolio and hurried across the room.
Once she was seated in her boss's office, Cass took several deep breaths. Joanna was on the phone while looking something up on her computer. She was barking out orders, something about the building in Miami. Cass wondered what it was like to have that kind of power – just snap at someone, tell them to do it, and it gets done without question.
“Good job on the party last weekend – the mayor was extremely happy,” Joanna said as soon as she got off the phone.
“Thank you, I worked really hard on it. Joshua Cavitt, the owner of the event hall, also worked some magic.”
“Yes, I heard about that. I've always enjoyed working with Josh,” Joanna nodded, surprising Cassie. “So have you given any thought to what we talked about last week?”
“I have,” Cass managed to nod.
“Again – no pressure. Either one is a great opportunity, and I'll also understand if you'd rather stay as you are,” Joanna assured her.
She was such a straight talker. People called Joanna Pressly a “ball buster”, but really, she was just direct. She got to the point quickly because she didn't have time to waste. She leaned her elbows on her desk and stared directly into Cassie's eyes. A power move, for sure, but also a sign of respect. Cassie took a deep breath and decided to return directness with frankness.
> “I'm going to be completely honest,” she started. “I haven't made a decision. Not because I haven't been thinking about it, but the choice is ... too broad? I always thought I would give anything for the chance to work directly with you, but it never occurred to me that to get a chance, I'd have to move. D.C. is home to me, and I love this office, my coworkers. But Miami would be very thrilling, and such an amazing opportunity, to make connections and learn. So I'm sorry, though I'd really love to go, maybe I'm not the right woman for the job.”
Joanna stared at her for a second longer, then smiled big.
“Excellent answer, Cassie. I admire honesty,” she nodded her head. “And I understand where you're coming from. Asking you to move so abruptly is really asking too much, I suppose, isn't it? After we spoke the other day, I thought about it, and realized it wasn't very fair, but I decided to wait to see how you felt about it.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you?”
“And I think it's great that you're torn between wanting to stay where you're comfortable, and wanting to take a chance. Most people would just settle for what they're comfortable with, not even question it. So how does this sound – a probationary period in Miami, working with me. Come down for a set amount of time, I was thinking four to six weeks? I have a condo in the city you can stay at, I'll be at my home in Coral Gables, just outside the city. At the end of the period, you can make an educated decision about what you want to do.”
Jesus. Cassie almost felt guilty for not jumping on Joanna's offer right away. This woman, one of the top in her field of business, was really bending over backwards to make this deal work for Cassie, and she was still hesitating.
“I ...” she stammered. “I ... I'm sorry, I ... it's a lot. Can I ... Friday. How about by the end of the week, I give you a definitive answer?”
Relief flooded her when Joanna nodded quickly.
“Of course, yes, I didn't necessarily expect an answer right this moment. By all means, think on it. And since you did such an amazing job on the mayor's event, why don't you take the rest of the week off. Relax, go out, make the most of the city. See if you can bear to leave it. And then we'll talk again. Okay?”
Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar (Oh, Those Boys) Page 14
