Bad Reputation

by Nicole Edwards

  “I’ll go pack.” With that I go straight to the other bedroom. I stopped referring to it as my room as of this morning, since I’ve spent the majority of the day in Cassie’s room, but whatever. I know Cassie’s going through a lot. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably be harboring some anger too. It’s natural.

  However, I’m not sure I would take it out on her.

  Then again, I do believe I’m at fault for this, so…yeah.

  It doesn’t take me long to shower, get dressed, and toss all my shit back into my suitcase. Rather than get in the way, I sit on the edge of the bed and stare out the window overlooking the Strip. The sun is out, there are people moving along the sidewalks far down below. A normal day for most.

  In fact, it looks just like it did the day we got here. Four days ago.

  It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. Unless, of course, you consider all that’s happened in those four days. I’m pretty sure I married my best friend, although she doesn’t remember and I damn sure am not bringing it up now. I need to look into it. Figure out if it’s real and if it is, perhaps I can get it annulled before Cassie finds out. That way, she’ll know that what happened here, stayed here.

  And then there was the whole kissing my best friend, then screwing her senseless. Multiple times. I’m not sure I want that aspect of this trip to stay here though, but from the way Cassie is slamming shit around in the other room, I don’t think she’s on the same page. I’m probably better off getting my head back together and forgetting that this ever happened.

  I really need to be there for Cassie when she needs me. As a friend. As her best friend. I’ve never been an executive in the corporate world—nor would I ever want to be—but I’m smart enough to figure out this is going to get worse before it gets better. If what Mark said was true and they do need a sacrificial lamb to take the fall, Cassie is going to be the one to take the hit.

  Pushing to my feet, I move closer to the window.

  It’s settled. I’ll leave well enough alone from this point forward.

  I’ll go back to being the dependable friend and I’ll pretend that I don’t know how fucking incredible it is to have Cassie naked in my arms while I’m lodged balls-deep in her body.

  Nope. No more of that.

  Back to the real world.

  I only hope my trainer is gearing up to kick my ass because I’m going to need something to take my mind off Cassie.

  The other option is…

  No. There is no other option.

  Cassie

  Getting our flight changed took a little finesse, but I managed. I don’t think I’ve ever used Chase’s celebrity status for my own personal gain before, but I didn’t have any qualms about doing it this time to get what I wanted.

  The trip back to Houston was uneventful, which I’m honestly grateful for. I’m nervous enough about facing the firing squad in the morning, so I definitely didn’t need more to worry about.

  I’m also thankful that Chase seems to be back to normal, too. It’s as though everything that we did for the past four days is now behind us and we are moving forward. I’m doing my best not to dwell on that too much right now. It helps that I’m drafting up what I want to say to the board members when I meet with them tomorrow. If I hope to keep my job, I’m going to have to prove to them that I’m worth it. Yes, I fucked up royally, but I need to show them they’d be better off keeping me than letting me go.

  The outcome could go either way. I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but that’s the way I operate. It’s the very reason I haven’t completely shut down. Until I know for a fact that my company is giving me the boot, I’m holding my head up and I’m going to wish for the best.

  Would I fire me? Hell yes. If one of my employees had seemingly abandoned the company at one of the most critical points, I wouldn’t even give them a second thought. Do I expect Tom will go to bat for me? I honestly don’t know. I would like to think that I’ve proven myself to him over the years, that he can see that I’m only human. I’m capable of making mistakes like everyone else.

  As I sit here at home by myself, I force myself to focus on all the positive things I’ve done, jotting them down so I have some recourse. It doesn’t help that my thoughts are obliterated by images of what Chase and I did in Vegas.

  I miss him.

  I don’t want to, but I do.

  However, thinking about Chase will get me nowhere. Right now, salvaging my reputation is the most important thing and I need to focus on that.

  Good thing it’ll all be done in the morning.

  —

  “Hey,” I greet Chase when I answer the phone the following morning.

  “You have your meeting in a bit?” he asks.

  I notice the hesitation in his voice. It’s as though he’s feeling me out, trying to get a sense of where my head’s at.

  “I do.”

  “And let me guess. You’re sitting in your car, outside the office, trying to psych yourself up to go in.”

  “You’re good,” I say with a chuckle, some of the tension easing from my shoulders.

  “I know.”

  “I’m so nervous. I have no idea what they’re going to say, but I can’t imagine it’ll be good.”

  “Don’t make excuses, Cassie. It’s all you can do. I’m so damn sorry that this happened to you.”

  He has apologized more times than I can count, and honestly, I don’t blame him. No one forces me to do anything, and thus my actions are my own. I did this to myself. I made some serious mistakes while I was in Vegas and I’m paying the price for them. But in the same regard, it’s my responsibility to atone for them. I have to focus on me because no one else will.

  “But, hey,” he adds, “I was calling for a reason.”

  “Other than to tell me good luck?”

  “Actually, yes.” I can hear a smile in his voice. “I’m not trying to jinx you or anything, but I thought you might want to know about a position that has opened up with the Texas Tornadoes Foundation.”

  “Oh, Chase. I don’t think—”

  “Hear me out, please.”

  I swallow hard. “Sorry.”

  “It’s a high-level position. In fact, from what I understand, it’s the highest level there is. I don’t know all the details, but I wanted to let you know. Just…you know…in case things don’t work out there. I wanted to remind you that you always have other options.”

  I wish that were true. Once this goes public, I seriously doubt anyone will hire me.

  Knowing that Chase means well, I don’t want to argue with him. Certainly not right now, when I have to go inside the building in the next five minutes. “Thanks. I might just have to check it out.”

  “Call me after the meeting?”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, and Cassie, there’s something else I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

  My phone beeps to show another call. I pull the screen back and see that it’s Natalie. I can’t talk to her right now. As Chase said, I need to psych myself up for this, which means I need to get off the phone.

  “Not right now, Chase. I don’t have time. We can talk tonight. Dinner? It’s your turn, right?”

  There’s no response as I stare out the windshield at the huge glass building, my heart beginning to pound. I think of all the years I’ve spent coming here and I can’t fathom what it will be like when that’s no longer the case. “Look. I really have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  With that, I hang up the phone and take a deep breath.

  I can do this.

  I have to do this.

  I channel my inner Chase and glance up at the rearview mirror. “Suck it up, Desrosiers.”

  It’s go time.

  Chapter 22

  Chase

  “Shit.”

  I stomp across my kitchen, spin around, and stomp right back. Back and forth, back and forth. An endless cycle that only amps up my frustration. It does little to release the pent-up energy that
has me practically vibrating.

  I knew I should have called Cassie earlier. Truth is, I chickened the fuck out. Once I found out that we did, in fact, get hitched in Vegas, I knew I needed to call and let her know that I’m taking care of it. Instead, I sat on the information for the past two hours. For what? Hoping that it would magically go away?

  Okay, yes.

  That’s exactly why I didn’t pick up the phone and call her.

  That, and I’m the world’s biggest chickenshit.

  It’s not that I want to keep the information from her. It’s more like I don’t want her to get mad. The last thing I could handle is Cassie hating me forever. I’d rather go on being married to her than to not have her in my life. Yes, so I admit it. Although I know she’s going to think this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, I don’t regret that it happened. I only regret that we did it while we were drunk.

  I glance at the clock.

  Cassie’s probably walking into the building right now. I’ve been to her office a couple of times, so I can envision what it looks like. Her in her prim and proper suit and her high heels. Now that I think about it, I don’t think there’s anything prim or proper about Cassie’s heels. I recall a specific black pair…okay, now my dick’s stirring to life again. The woman has some sexy fucking shoes.

  It has me wondering what she wears beneath those damn suits. All this time, I thought she was simply buttoned up and professional and beneath it all…

  No.

  I have to stop thinking about Cassie’s underwear.

  Of course, that gets me thinking about what she looks like naked.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  This morning is turning out to be shit.

  It all started when I woke up at the ass crack of dawn with my dick in my hand.

  All thanks to the dream that I had. And this one I know was a dream because it involved me and Cassie fucking like rabbits on my couch. Since the woman has absolutely no intention of picking up where we left off in Vegas, I know it was my subconscious playing tricks on me.

  Not that my dick knew the difference.

  Still, I had to rub one out before my feet hit the floor and I’ve done little besides think about Cassie ever since.

  As for our marriage…yeah, it’s real. My memories of that night are still fuzzy, so I’m basing this solely on the paperwork that has been filed with the state of Nevada. I need to tell Cassie because as far as I can tell, she has no idea. Plus, the media is going to find it. No doubt about it, some nosy reporter will start digging and unearth the fact that Cassie and I got hitched in Vegas.

  Of course, that means I need to call Dad and Chief, let them know what’s going on. The last thing I want is for them to hear this secondhand.

  As I’m spinning on my heel, heading back across the room once more, my cellphone rings. I race to the bar, snatch it up, and hit the talk button without bothering to look at the screen.

  “Cass?”

  “No, it’s me, Natalie.”

  I sigh, then turn and lean against the counter. “What’s up, Nat?”

  “Cassie’s here. In the building.”

  “I know. She has her meeting this morning.”

  “It’s not gonna be pretty,” Natalie says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I heard Tom’s assistant talking about it in the break room earlier. Something about the stock taking a hit.”

  “Son of a bitch.” I wish like hell someone could have warned Cassie before she went in there.

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Natalie adds.

  My breath lodges in my chest as I wait for her to explain.

  “Do you still not remember what y’all did your first night in Vegas?”

  My lungs have stopped working. I can’t even clear my throat to speak.

  “You got married, Chase.”

  She says it so matter-of-factly.

  “To Cassie.”

  Well, no shit, Sherlock.

  “Chase?”

  “Hmm?” It’s all I can manage right now.

  “Trust me, I’ve got a million more questions where that tidbit of news is concerned, but I don’t have time right now.”

  Thank God for that.

  “The worst part, from what I can tell, is that they’re going to use it against her to show that she went with the intention of making the trip a personal one. They’re going to lay it all at her feet and…”

  “Publicly shame her for it,” I mutter.

  “Yes. It’s their way of saving face with investors and consumers alike. They’re already working on the new keynote that will be given two days from now. They’ll make a public apology and explain what happened. That’s why they’re meeting with her now, to take care of things from a legal perspective.”

  “And you didn’t think to warn Cassie?” I ask.

  The violent rage churning in my gut is something I’m not familiar with. I don’t give two fucks if Cassie is at fault—because of me, of course. The idea of them personally attacking her in an effort to save their asses doesn’t sit well with me.

  “I tried, but she didn’t answer her phone. I just heard it, I swear.”

  “I have to go,” I tell her. “I need to get there.” Why, I’m not sure. I just feel the need to be there for Cassie when this all goes down.

  “Don’t,” Natalie pleads. “It’ll only make things worse. You know Cassie. She’s going to be devastated, but she won’t let them see it. I’ll be here for her. I’ll be waiting when she gets finished.” She takes a deep breath. “And if they do follow through with this, Chase, I’m quitting. I can’t work for someone who would have so little compassion for someone who made a mistake.”

  I don’t have anything to say to that. I can’t keep my thoughts straight. If they know about Cassie getting married, they’re going to use that against her. The last thing I want is for her to find out like this.

  “I’ll text you when she’s done,” Natalie adds quickly, her voice even lower than before. “I have to go.”

  The phone disconnects and it takes everything in my power not to throw the damn thing against the wall.

  I have to call my dads. If for nothing else, so they can tell me that everything will be all right. I lean on them and they lean on me. That’s what family does.

  I only hope Cassie remembers that after this all goes down.

  Regardless of the mistakes we’ve made, I’m not only her best friend, I’m also her family. Always have been. Always will be.

  Cassie

  “Please have a seat.”

  I stare at the twelve people sitting around the table, then glance down at the chair at the very end. My heart is pounding so hard, I can feel my pulse beating in my neck. I pray to God I don’t break out in a sweat. The last thing I need is for these people to see me fall apart.

  With as much composure as I can manage, I move to the far end of the room and then take a seat at the table. With my back straight, I clasp my hands together in my lap and meet each person’s eyes, my gaze pausing on Tom, who is sitting at the opposite end.

  “Cassie, we wanted to give you an opportunity to explain the events that took place in Las Vegas,” Jeremiah Goddard prompts.

  I turn my attention to the CEO, my throat suddenly dry. The look in his eyes tells me that it doesn’t matter what I say, how much I grovel, it’s not going to matter in the end. I’ve lost the war before the first battle, but he’s going to pretend to be the bigger person and allow me to lay it all on the line.

  Tom clears his throat, jerking my attention to him. “Cassie?”

  Once more, I let my eyes travel around the room, then I force a smile that feels more like a sneer. “When I woke up this morning, I held a little bit of hope that I could come here today and take responsibility for my actions and that this board would take into account everything I’ve done for this company,” I tell them, my voice even. “But it’s obvious by the looks on your faces that I could explain that I went to Vegas, that I imbibed a little too muc
h, that I let my personal life interfere and I failed you all by not showing up when that was my one and only responsibility, but it’s not going to make a difference.

  “I could tell you that I spent months planning for this, that I was highly honored when Tom offered me the opportunity to be the keynote speaker despite how terrified I was to do it. I could outline all the work that my team put into this, how many late nights and weekends we worked in order to ensure the rollout went off without a hitch. But that’s not what you want to hear, is it? You called me in here to nail me to the wall for…making a mistake.”

  “So, you are stating that your personal life interfered?” Tom asks, the gleam in his eye full of accusation as he ignores everything I just said.

  It bothers me that I spent so many years working for this man and in order to save his own ass, he’s willing to let me swing in the wind.

  “Yes, sir. I’m not trying to place blame elsewhere. I’m the one who didn’t show up to the keynote. I didn’t fulfill my obligation as keynote speaker. I let my team down because I wasn’t there to roll out the new applications, or to announce the progress that we’ve made over the past year.”

  “Cassie, do you even know what happened when you didn’t show up?” Jeremiah questions.

  “No, sir. I don’t.”

  Jeremiah looks to Tom.

  “When we were seconds from going live with the biggest product rollout we’ve had in years, no one seemed at all worried that you hadn’t arrived yet,” Tom explained. “Everyone was in agreement that you would be there because we’ve come to depend on you to follow through. So we moved forward as planned. This keynote was live, Cassie. Not only did we have a room full of people—employees, investors, and reporters—but we were streaming directly to the consumer. They were watching us on their mobile devices, waiting patiently to see what we were bringing them because we’ve spent millions of dollars in preparation for this.”

  I knew this already, but I allow Tom to continue.

  “Then, when it was time for you to come out, to kick things off and walk them through the entire rollout, you were nowhere to be found.” Tom frowns. “Nor was your assistant.”