Accidental Triplets - A Secret Babies for the Billionaire Romance (San Bravado Billionaires' Club Book 4)
Page 5
I closed my mouth, and a silence hung in the air.
“I'm, um, not very good at speeches, so I'm just going to let the work speak for itself.”
With that, I nodded towards my staff, who awaited my signal to start the lights and the fog machine. With a sputter that turned into a gentle hum, the fog slowly wafted out of the vent of the machine until the floor was covered in a blanket of mist. Sean dimmed the lights into the sunset colors, and finally, I pressed play on the room's speaker system which started the track of electronic music that I'd selected.
“Okay,” I said to the model that was waiting backstage. “Come on down.”
Moment of truth, I thought as I fidgeted with my hands.
The music played, the fog billowed, and the lights glowed brilliantly. Then, the tall, statuesque model appeared from behind the curtain, her face of harsh beauty fixed forward. She stood at the beginning of the catwalk for a moment before strutting down the stage. And, as she did, the solar mirror lights of her dress illuminated.
“Now that's something,” said Rhys. “How are those powered?”
“They're solar-powered lights,” I said. “So, the dress isn't just animal-cruelty free; it's also totally green.”
“Impressive,” Rhys said quietly.
He leaned forward in his chair and I felt my heart rise in my chest; he seemed to be very taken by the outfit.
The model approached him, her long legs cutting the distance between her and Rhys. She came to a stop at the end of the catwalk, and as she did, Rhys raised his hand to gesture for her to stop where she stood. He rose slowly from his seat, the fog coiling around his legs. Slowly, he paced around the model, taking in the details of the dress, his chin in his hand.
He seemed to be loving it. I couldn't believe it. I wanted to dance in place right then and there, overjoyed at my apparent success.
But the feeling didn't last. A strange, sputtering sound belched from the fog machine, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Even the model turned towards it.
“What's going on with that thing?” asked Rhys.
“Not sure,” I said, rushing over to the machine.
As I crossed the room, however, I noticed the fog begin to darken and rise. As soon as it reached my face, my lungs became instantly irritated. I coughed, then coughed again. Soon, everyone in the room was coughing, too.
“It's putting out smoke!” Travis cried. “The machine's screwing up!”
Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no, I thought over and over as I squatted down in front of the malfunctioning machine and tried to figure out what was going on.
“Get away from that,” said Rhys, taking me by the arm and lifting me to my feet. By this point, the room was nearly filled with smoke. Coughs sounded out everywhere. “Everyone get out!” he said, his tone commanding.
“But—” I started, wanting to help, wanting to fix the mess I'd created.
“No buts,” he said firmly.
Travis, covering his mouth, pointed towards the door. I turned, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Rhys fiddled with something on the machine. Moments later, the thing powered off and ceased belching out smoke.
“Got it!” he said.
But before any of us could celebrate, a harsh beeping sounded throughout the room, cutting through the music.
It was the fire alarm.
“Oh shit,” said Travis.
As he spoke, the sprinklers on the ceiling opened up and began spraying down cold water. I felt my clothes soak as Rhys jumped up from the machine and led us into the hallway. But the scene out there wasn't any better—the sprinklers in the hallway were going off, soaking everything in sight. Employees rushed down the hall, trying to take cover from the torrent of water.
Rhys ran over to a small electronic panel near the doors leading to the floor lobby and keyed in a password on the screen. He swiped here and there, accessing something, then spoke his name into the speaker.
“Name recognized,” said the cool, female voice of the panel.
“Deactivate sprinklers on twenty-second floor!”
And just like that, they turned off.
The group that had been, moments earlier, seated watching a fashion show were now soaked from head to toe in the middle of the hallway. We all looked at one another, as if trying to make sure that the last few minutes had actually happened.
I was beyond mortified.
“Well,” said Rhys, finally breaking the silence. “I suppose that's one way to make a first impression.”
Chapter 8
Rhys
Standing in the park outside of my building, I watched as fire trucks tore down the road, their lights and sirens blaring. There were three in total, and when they came to a halt, the crew poured out of them. The entire staff of the building—all four hundred of us—were gathered on the lawn. Mandatory evacuation was standard for something like this.
“Rhys Cole?” called out one of the firemen.
I approached him and replied, “That's me.”
“We got a call for a fire alarm here—what's going on?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Cassidy. Her face was about as deep of a red as it could possibly be, and her dark hair hung wet at her shoulders.
“Just a malfunctioning piece of equipment,” I said. “But the problem's been taken care of.”
The fireman nodded.
“Good to hear. But all the same, we gotta check the place out. Protocol and all.”
I nodded back.
“Of course,” I said. “The alarm was on the twenty-second floor. And the malfunctioning device can be found in the third room on the right.”
“Thanks,” said the fireman. “We shouldn't need more than an hour.”
“Thank you for being so prompt,” I said. “Good to know we're in good hands, should an actual fire break out.”
The fireman nodded and the team headed off. I glanced around and saw that the entirety of my staff was looking at me. Not all of them were soaked, but the ones who were didn't look pleased in the slightest. I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly time for work to be done for the day. The fountain was nearby, so I stepped up onto it and raised my palms to indicate my announcement.
“As I'm sure you all have figured out, this was a false alarm—nothing to worry about. Seeing how the work day is just about done anyway, you all can go ahead and head home. And for those of you who were soaked by the sprinklers, please feel free to email me your dry-cleaning bills.”
That seemed to do the trick. The crowd broke apart, and soon, only a handful of employees remained.
“Quite a show,” said Travis, his well-put-together outfit drenched from head-to-toe, his carnation hanging limply from his pocket.
I glanced over at Cassidy, who looked like she might cry at any moment.
“My announcement applies to you all, as well,” I said, turning to Cassidy's temporary intern staff. “You all did a remarkable job today. Don't be surprised if you find a little bonus on your next paychecks.”
The team looked at each other with brief, excited expressions before hurrying off.
“Take the night off, Travis,” I said, patting my assistant on the shoulder. “I've got a few matters to discuss with Miss May.”
Her face then turned from a deep shade of red to a deathly pale. I could tell she wasn't looking forward to the idea of us having a conversation about what had just happened.
“Sure thing,” said Travis.
I could sense that he was a little miffed, but Travis was a true professional; it'd take more than a little water to get him to lose his cool.
Then, it was just me and Cassidy. A silence hung in the air for a moment, the tension building by the second. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and burst into a tirade.
“I'm-so-sorry-it-was-all-my-fault-please-I-didn't-know-I—”
I held up my hand and her mouth zipped into a flat line.
“Slowly,” I said, my voice cool and calm.
&nbs
p; “We checked the machine before we used it and it was fine,” she said. “And…I don't know what happened. It just broke out of nowhere. I'm so sorry about everything; I wouldn't have done it if I knew that—”
“It's not your fault,” I said. “That thing could've broken on anyone; you're just the unlucky one who happened to use it at the wrong time. Don't worry about it.”
“You mean you're not upset?” she asked. “But you're soaked.”
She wasn't wrong about that.
“If I were going to lose my cool over every little thing that went wrong that was out of anyone's control, I wouldn't get any real work done. Just part of the cost of doing business.”
A wave of relief washed over Cassidy's face.
“How about this,” I said. “I did manage to get a look at your work before, ah, it took a bath. I liked what I saw, and I'd love to discuss it with you a little further. How about we grab a drink while the firemen get all this sorted out? There's a nice little wine bar down the block.”
Her eyes went wide, and I could tell she was still in shock that I wasn't blowing my top at her.
“That, um, that would be amazing.”
“Then let's do it,” I said. “But why don't we change into some dry clothes first? I'm friends with the owner of the bar, but I think walking in looking like I just showered in my clothes might be pushing it a little bit.”
Cassidy let out a chiming, very adorable laugh, covering her mouth with her hand as she did.
“You have extra clothes for me?” Cassidy asked, sounding a little surprised.
“I do own a clothing line,” I said. “One of the perks of the job—I get to raid the closets whenever I want.”
She blushed again, apparently aware of just how silly her question was.
“Okay, sounds good to me,” she agreed.
We headed into the building and back up to the floor of my office. Stepping into the hallway, I spotted a few firemen looking over the smoke machine, one giving it a solid kick as if making sure it was good and broken.
“I've got my own change of clothes in my office,” I said. “You should be able to find something in the dressing room down the hall. Meet me in the lobby when you're ready.”
“Will do,” she said, giving me a thumbs-up.
I stepped into my office and took a look over. The place was covered in water, but it didn't look like any major damage had been done—I'd gotten to the controls just in time. And anything that was ruined would be covered by insurance. After putting in a call to a company to come in to clean up tonight, I changed into one of my spare outfits, choosing a clean, white button-up and a pair of simple gray slacks, the look finished with a pair of faux-suede gray boots.
Once ready, I headed down to the lobby, where Cassidy was already waiting for me. She rose as I stepped off the elevator, a slightly surprised look on her face.
It was at that moment that I realized just how damn beautiful she was.
Her dark hair, now mostly dry, had been put into a simple, chic ponytail. Her gorgeous, grass-green eyes made her fair skin look all the more milky. Her nose was small and pert, her lips a natural, dark pink—full and kissable. Her shapely figure was dressed in a pair of fitted, dark jeans that showed off her curves and a periwinkle button-up that showed just a hint of cleavage.
I had to take a moment to compose myself as she stood before me.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Not at all.”
The two of us were soon off and heading along the wide boulevards of downtown San Bravado. My eyes danced across the familiar faces of the people we passed; most of them I recognized as tech moguls or billionaires of other stripes. The city was something of a playground for these sorts, with the streets of downtown packed with trendy bars, restaurants, coffee shops, and night spots. I didn't really have room to talk, however—I was one of the wealthy who called this city home and made it what it was.
Soon, the two of us stepped into Alan's, a small, hip wine bar with an interior dominated by reclaimed wood, the left wall covered by tall shelves packed with wines from all over the world.
“Afternoon, Rhys,” said Alan, the stout, dark-haired owner—a friend of mine from my first months here in the city.
“Hey, there, Alan.”
“Punching out so soon?” he asked, taking a pair of menus from a small compartment on the host stand. “Very unlike you.”
“We had a little bit of an…incident,” I said, my eyes flicking over to Cassidy.
“You mean those fire trucks?” he asked. “What—”
“The less said, the better,” I said with a half-smile.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could spot the red flush of embarrassment creep up Cassidy's neck. It caught my attention, and made me think about what else I could do to make her feel hot and overwhelmed.
“Say no more. Your usual spot?”
“As always.”
Alan seated us at a small, two-person table tucked away into the corner and near enough to the back windows to give us a nice view of the city streets on the other side of the block. As she slid into her chair, I could see that Cassidy was still somewhat mortified. Her green eyes looked around here and there, and she tucked her hair behind her ear in a manner that made the lovely curve of her neck more visible. I had to force myself to not stare.
“You're still stressing,” I said.
“I can't help it,” she replied. “I feel so stupid.”
“Feeling stupid about things over which you have no control is going to be something you'll need to work past. I have shows every year, and—”
“I know!” she said, her eyes going wide with excitement. “I was at your latest, with Nina Wauters. It was amazing.”
I could tell her inner fangirl was slipping out. It was cute to behold.
“Glad you liked it,” I said. “But I don't put on a single one of those shows without something going wrong. Fussy models, a stage crew that doesn't know a stage light from a hole in the ground…upstaging partners—it's all part and parcel.”
I winced slightly, annoyed that I'd let my issues with Nina slip out like that. Luckily, Cassidy didn't seem to pick up on it.
“Yeah, but not on your first day, I bet.”
“Just look at it this way—you've gotten your first nightmare scenario out of the way. I like to throw my new designers into the deep end right away and…well, you sure splashed right into it.”
I gave her a smile to indicate all was well.
A small, but very attractive smile formed on Cassidy's lips. She was blessed with one of those faces that just lit up whenever her lips turned up in the slightest.
“So, we’re good, then?”
“Yes. Congratulations on your first day of work.”
I watched the tension slip out of her body, her shoulders loosening up slightly as she let out a lungful of air.
“Thank goodness,” she said. “Losing a new job before the first day was even done is something I don't think my ego could take.”
“And you're going to need ego in this business. Keep it nice and big.”
Cassidy nodded, but I could sense that she wasn't the type of girl for whom having an ego came naturally. We'd have to work on that.
“I'll do my best,” she said.
Eager to please, I thought. Good for a new employee, but something else she'll need to work on.
I imagined Cassidy meeting Nina, someone who wouldn't think twice about walking all over someone like her, someone with a less…rigid personality.
Alan stopped by and opened up a bottle of something from a nearby vineyard.
“Not even supposed to have this on the shelves yet,” said Alan with a wink before departing.
“Cheers,” I said, raising my glass of ruby-red wine.
We tapped our glasses and took sips. The wine was tart, rich, and delicious.
“And what are we toasting to?” she asked, that lovely little smile still on her lips.
“How about that amazing dress you were able to put together today?”
“You mean the one that's probably sitting soaking wet on the back of a chair at the model's apartment?”
“The very same,” I said. “We'll get it back, don’t you worry. I want to see it again, to really have the time to look it over and admire your handiwork.”
“It wasn't that great,” Cassidy half-whispered, her eyes drifting down to the table.
“Here's your first ego lesson,” I said. “When someone gives you a compliment, don't swat it down. Just say thank you, and move on. You don't want people wondering if they were right to compliment you to begin with.”
“And is that what you're thinking now?” she asked, the slightest hint of slyness appearing on her lips.
“No,” I said. “Because when I told you your work was good, it was a statement of fact, not something I said to be nice.”
“It was nice, though.”
Cassidy's eyes went wide for a moment and she cleared her throat.
“I mean, thank you, Mr. Cole,” she said.
“Please,” I responded, raising my glass up to my lips for another sip. “Call me Rhys.”
Chapter 9
Cassidy
My heart was racing. I'd hoped the wine might calm me down a little, but it only had the effect of making my head swim even more. And, on top of it, Rhys was telling me that my work was to his liking. It was almost too much for me to handle.
“What did you like about the dress?” I asked.
He swirled his wine in his glass in a charming, thoughtful way. As he did, his eyes narrowed in thought, and I couldn't help but stare deep into those ice-blue pools. Along with everything else, he was so gorgeous sitting up close that it was almost painful. It almost felt like looking into the sun.
He was silent for a moment more, and I could see that he was very, very carefully considering his words. I could already tell that Rhys was a man who didn't say a single thing he didn't mean.