Tangled IN LIES (Book#3, IN YOU)

by Cassandra Night

  I bind my painful past where it belongs, even if a hundred voices like demons are screaming at me as if those headlines are part of my identity. I take calming breaths and step out of the car. I walk through the park full of blooming flowers toward the entrance of a tower of glass and steel, allowing spring to fill me with purpose and determination. When the sliding door opens, an oomph of energy spreads through me.

  This is it.

  “Good morning, miss.” The security guy politely guides me to the ground floor receptionist as I keep reminding myself to breathe.

  She lifts her dark blue eyes and a smile splits her face as soon as she sees me.

  “Good morning, miss, welcome to Fading Ink. How can I help you?” Her soft voice sounds melodious and pleasant.

  I force my shoulders to relax and break a smile. “I’m here to see Mr. Lawson and Mr. Greer for a job interview.”

  She nods, casting her gaze on the screen to check. “One moment.” She quickly types something on her keyboard and dials the phone, and I have a chance to observe my surroundings.

  Everything looks sleek and modern, with clever design touches to give a person the impression of comfort and prestige. Bestsellers adorn the polished stone walls like an artwork, and the company’s history is displayed on the canvases throughout the spacious, one-floor reception.

  It was disappointing to receive a call from Aisha’s firm, telling me they can’t hire me at this time. Apparently, someone else with more experience snatched up the position. Thankfully, Aisha’s marketing firm redirected me to another similar opening.

  After I received the agency’s recommendation, I threw myself into research. I needed to understand Fading Ink’s business goals to see if this company could be my starting point. I won’t deny, I was impressed with what I found.

  A few video chats with Mr. Greer later, I received the invitation to meet them in person for the final interview. It was such a relief they weren’t worried about my lack of experience. I genuinely want to try my hand at publishing.

  “They’re waiting for you. Floor nine. Mr. Greer’s assistant is going to meet you there.” She quickly prints me a pass, and I’m escorted into the elevator.

  As the doors shut, I turn to the mirror to adjust my bright hair hanging loosely around my shoulders. I dyed it a vivid red after an accident when I woke up with the face of a stranger. My family thought I was crazy, but in truth, I was trying to figure out who this woman staring back at me was.

  So many tried to shape me into the perfect image Mrs. Cade should be. My in-laws hired designers, stylists to mold my image, and publicists to teach me how to deal with the press. They taught me how to hide my emotional turmoil under the refined façade of beauty and calm decorum. Perhaps because my mental issues didn’t sit well with the Cades’ public image, or that I now represent their family.

  Waking up after the car accident in the hospital with a partial memory loss wasn’t easy to deal with, especially when I looked nothing like before. Surgeons did the best they could to reconstruct my face and broken body. But it wasn’t my face that bothered me, it was the look in my family’s eyes that floored me. I could tell they were holding back a gale of secrets from me. I just couldn’t connect the dots. My brain was still recovering. To be honest, even years later, I’m still missing chunks of my memories.

  Since my makeup hides all the scars from the public judgment, I exhale in relief and run my hands down the length of the dress, subtly accentuating my curves, giving a professional vibe I was going for.

  Smiling at my reflection in the mirror, I remind myself, “You’ll do whatever it takes.” Going back to the way things were, isn’t an option. Not anymore. “You worked hard for the past two years, trying to carve a new path for yourself. This is your chance. Don’t screw it up.”

  The tension between me and my in-laws is getting worse. I don’t blame them for trying to push me out of their business and treating me like I’m a burden. After all, I’m the one who survived the car crash, and their son didn’t. I’m the face of their family’s devastation.

  The elevator softly signals, announcing my stop at the top floor. I straighten my spine. Casting one last look at the mirror, I turn around to exit. My pulse drums loudly in my ears, and I wipe my sweaty palms on the back of my dress. My heels click on the floor as I walk to another reception area, overlooking the city. I halt at the bay window and take it all in.

  “Wow, this is incredible,” I breathe out my surprise.

  “It is, isn’t it? That’s why we built our house here.”

  I freeze at the masculine voice behind me appearing from nowhere.

  “Because of the view?” I twist my neck to look at the lean but handsome male in his late thirties. I recognize him instantly. Dark brown hair styled to the side gives him a subtle impression of wealth, as does his shiny, expensive watch reflecting the light.

  “Because of the vision.” Mr. Greer’s lips stretch at the corner and his eyes sparkle.

  “And what’s the vision?” I probe, knowing I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.

  At this point, I’m intrigued by these young entrepreneurs who became very successful in this business in the past decade.

  “You tell me, Mrs. Cade.” His features become animated with excitement. “You’re standing at the top of Fading Ink. What do you see?”

  So, Mr. Greer decided to quiz me before I had a chance to see his office. Well, nothing I wasn’t ready for. I gather my arms in front of me as I watch the city laid out in front of us.

  “I think this floor signifies a watchtower.” I glance at him. “You probably invite authors to this floor to let them get a peek of this view before you sign them up. It’s incredible. Your eyes are drawn beyond the zenith while people below are looking up and wondering what you see. It could represent your publishing house’s vision to shape the world with the help of another person’s imagination.”

  After silently listening to me, he slowly beams at me. “Why Fading Ink then?”

  “It beats me.”

  He chuckles, amused at my response, and the skin around his chocolate eyes crinkles slightly, adding to the charm.

  “But it could be related to the books.”

  “Very well, let’s have this interview out of our way, shall we?” Mr. Greer places his palm at the small of my back, leading me into his office as soon as I nod, but he doesn’t explain to me about the name.

  We enter a spacious room with soft leather chairs facing the dark wood table. The view is drawing me in, and the atmosphere is almost Zen-like, but I’m still way too nervous to settle down.

  Calm down, just breathe. Everything will be okay.

  “Would you like some water?”

  I nod, feeling my throat getting parched. Mr. Greer grabs a bottle of water and pours it in a glass he brought from the tray.

  “We need to wait for Mr. Lawson to arrive. He got stuck in a video call conference with one of the overseas companies.” He passes me the glass.

  “I hope everything’s okay,” I inquire politely, sipping the water, and to my surprise, he answers.

  “One of the print houses in Norway had some errors in the final product that needed fixing. Nothing Mr. Lawson hasn’t dealt with before.”

  Before I can drill for more information, the massive wooden doors click open and through them enters the man himself. His masculine form—in a dark blue suit tailored to his well-built physique —looks sculpted from stone.

  Since Mr. Greer stands up, I also rise from my chair, placing the glass on the table, before twisting around the seat to greet his partner. But I stay behind since they speak in low voices a little bit farther from me. I use the moment to compose myself.

  It’s been a while since I’ve actually looked for a job or been to an interview. I forgot how it felt. Nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. My erratic pulse drums in my temples as I listen to the newcomer’s deep voice softly filtering through the room. He gives an impression of being in charge and
in control while I feel completely opposite.

  You can’t fail, I remind myself.

  “Mrs. Cade.”

  I pivot around with a smile in place to hide my nervousness.

  “Please, meet my partner and Fading Ink CEO, Mr. Lawson.”

  I blink in surprise as the surreal feeling takes over me once I lock my gaze with his whiskey ones, blazing at me.

  Everything fades, only my heartbeat thumps in the space between us like a rain barrel during the rainstorm. My pulse spikes as his gaze reaches something deep within me and draws it to the surface. Shocked, I take a step back, just to be able to breathe easier.

  Everything about this man screams intelligent, power and wealth—from the impeccable clothes on his masculine frame to his shoes and watch. His sharp jaw graced with neat scruff moves as he swallows, and lips so full and biteable tug into a subtle grin.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cade.” Husky undertones like syrup slide down my chest and my erratic pulse skitters beneath my skin.

  I press my feet harder to the floor, needing to ground myself and stop my senses from spinning out of control.

  “You can call me Cassandra.” I lick my lips as my cheeks grow warm from his unnerving attention. To break his laser focus, I turn to Mr. Greer, hoping to dissolve the tension stretching my nerves even thinner. “Shall we begin?” I urge.

  “Of course, please take a seat.” They both move around the table until they sit opposite me. “And please call me Robert.”

  I nod, turning to Mr. Lawson, who doesn’t extend his invitation to call him by his first name. No, he stays silent and sharp, like a blade about to slice the air with his power.

  Those whiskey eyes, like burnt caramel, are tracking my every movement. My fingers curl around the cold glass, and I lift it to my mouth to wet my dry throat, but it’s almost empty.

  His jaw tightens as I catch the last drop of water with my tongue. I shake off my thoughts, clearing my throat to talk, beyond surprised he affects me this way.

  “What would you like to know?” I force myself to look away from him. “I think we covered quite a lot during the video chats.”

  “Why do you want to work here, Cassandra?” My nipples pebble hearing Mr. Lawson's deep timbre directed to me. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, and holds me like a captive with his gaze. “You have worked at the investment bank before.”

  I slowly nod.

  “Why us, why such a huge change? Why now?”

  “Fair enough.” I gulp, affected by his intensity. “When I received the agency’s recommendation to work at Fading Ink, I threw myself into research, embracing the opportunity presented to me. I wanted to know if your company is the place where I want to start my career.”

  “And are we?” His lips curl up into an amused smile.

  “Your company successfully manages over five hundred unique authors and also collaborates with other publishing houses. You have publishing operations in seventeen countries. In such a short time, you’ve made quite a name between the ‘shark’ publishing houses. Fading Ink acquired an impressive portfolio. So yes, I believe you are.”

  His eyes sparkle with pride. “Hmm,” he hums and for some reason that makes me more annoyed.

  Mr. Lawson stands up, straightening his fitted suit jacket lapels, and walks around. He moves like a hunter, all smooth muscles and lithe strength in an immaculate suit. I don’t move or dare to breathe as he grabs a bottle from the mini-fridge and comes to pour it into my empty glass.

  “Is it the only reason you want to work here?” His warm breath cascades down my neck, and I’m tempted to close my eyes and savor the seductive hint of warm, spicy sandalwood drifting off him in waves.

  Jesus Christ! Snap out of it!

  “Some of your authors are winners of the Nobel Prize, and a few snatched the National Book Award last year. Reviews are also great, and the authors are happy to work with you. This encourages me to seek a position here, hoping I might be part of your growing achievements.”

  When I stop, he pushes the glass toward me. He rests on the edge of the table next to me, still waiting for something. I shift in my seat, needing space that’s not thrumming with abundant sexual energy, to think clearly. But I settle for a glass of water.

  Get yourself together!

  Since he doesn’t move to his seat, I know he isn’t satisfied with my answer.

  “I chose to change my career path due to some personal events, Mr. Lawson. I needed diversity in my life, to get away from the financial sector, and seek a more fulfilling career. Marketing and publishing spiked my curiosity, and here I am.” I crane my neck to look at him, and find him gawking at me. “I know I have no previous experience, but I might be quite an asset if you give me a chance,” I add, basking in his warmth seeping into my pores.

  He straightens up and walks around the table to take his seat as his partner takes over the interview. Mr. Lawson doesn’t speak again, but his burning gaze stays fixed on me, searching for something, pushing against my façade. The quiet intensity he directs at me is unnerving and yet weirdly pleasing at the same time.

  “Let’s talk about your position here, Mrs. Cade,” Robert finally begins.

  But he is cut off by Mr. Lawson. “What happened in your life to make you seek such a different career?”

  “That’s quite a personal question, Mr. Lawson.”

  He arches his eyebrow at me and his luscious mouth stretches into a smirk, transforming his face in an instant. My heart skips a beat as he leans forward again, resting his elbow on the dark wood table, rolling a pen between his fingers.

  “Cassandra, your name’s quite well known. A few years back, you were all over the media. If we’re to hire you, we need to know why you aren’t working at the investment bank. Don’t they trust you to do your job well?”

  I take a calming breath, knowing this was coming. It is hardly a secret who the Cades are in the business world or who I am for that matter. The media plastered my story all over the Internet and newspapers, trying to tell the world about Logan Cade’s secret bride and their children. The back of my eyes burn with tears, but I blink them away, digging my nails into my palms, determined to get this job regardless of my painful past, haunting me like a ghost.

  “My family’s a very complicated matter, Mr. Lawson. I’m not comfortable to discuss my family politics or dramas with you. But I can assure you, I made this decision deliberately. I didn’t feel that working in the financial sector is my calling, and after surviving a car accident, I decided not to waste my life with something that doesn’t fulfill me.”

  “Do you think this position might be fulfilling?”

  A beam of warmth in his curious gaze makes me feel safe to answer.

  “I love reading books, owning them, smelling the ink on their pages. They helped me get through some hardships, escape from painful realities. When my sister suggested trying to go this route, it made me feel excited. So yes, I think this position might be what I was looking for.”

  “But only time will tell,” he speaks in a low voice, and I nod, looking straight at him as some sort of understanding passes between us. Excitement returns, and my lips stretch into a smile and my confidence grows about this interview.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Cade, for coming. I think we have everything we need to make a decision. We’ll give you a call in a few days to let you know if you got the position,” Robert speaks, breaking our private exchange.

  I collect my handbag from the floor and hook it onto my shoulder, ready to leave. Robert extends his hand, beaming at me.

  “This was an amazing interview, Cassandra. I think you’re one of the strongest contenders for this position.”

  “Thank you, Robert. I'd love to work with you. I hope you’ll call me soon with great news.”

  I turn to Mr. Lawson, standing next to his partner with his hands in his dark blue suit pants. Admiring how well his suit fits him, I extend my hand to him. He removes one hand from his pocket, enclo
ses my small palm in his large one, and electric shocks zap through me at the contact. My gaze snaps to his in surprise and my lips part in astonishment.

  “Call me Mark, Cassandra.” He rolls my name on his tongue softly like a delicious treat, and a shiver treks down my spine. My cheeks burn, affected by the masculine timbre undertones. “Thank you for answering my questions. Trust is vital in a working relationship. I hope you understand my persistence to know about your choice to work with us.”

  “Of course. I hope I didn’t disappoint you with my answers. Consider giving me a chance to prove I can be an asset to your company.” I can’t seem to be able to take my eyes off him.

  Robert clears his throat, and I retract my hand from Mark’s palm, losing the comfort of his touch. After a few words of goodbyes, I finally leave the room.

  “What the hell just happened in there?” I ask myself, resting my back against the panel while the elevator descends to the ground floor.

  That man is something else. I can’t shake his alluring presence from my mind. There’s something so familiar about him too.

  A memory of me meeting Logan at the conference in Liverpool hits me like lightning, and I choke up with emotions I tried to keep at bay. Maybe that’s why? This interview reminds me of how we met.

  Despite the unexpected attraction to Mark, I’m thrilled about the possibility of working at Fading Ink. Their publishing house seems like a place to grow and establish my career. This job might be just what I need to feel like a person again, with some fire under the layers of scars etched on my skin, buried deep in my soul.

  As I leave the foyer, my bag starts to vibrate. And by the way it persistently rings, I think I know who it is. I dig my hand into the handbag to find my phone and answer with a smile on my face.

  “How do you know I’m done?”

  “Oh, come on, I waited long enough. Spill the news, sister.” The excitement is evident in Aisha’s voice.

  “I met with both CEOs, Robert and Mark. The interview went pretty well, considering I had to explain to them why I’m leaving the financial field and jumping into marketing.” I walk to the car, and my personal driver, who probably costs more than my wage at Fading Ink, opens the door for me. “But on the bright side, my lack of experience wasn’t a turn-off.”