by S. M. Shade
Wyatt must understand what she’s doing as well because he drapes his arm around my waist when he replies. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Fredericks, but as you can see, my social calendar is full at the moment. If you’ll excuse us.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, we step into the elevator. A smile creeps across my face at the sight of the outraged expression on hers, and I can’t resist a little wave as the doors close.
“An old friend of yours?” I tease, poking him in the side.
“An old mistake. I took her out two years ago and she’s never let me forget it. Vapid bitch.” His palm travels across his forehead.
“Wyatt!”
“Seriously, she asked me what the name of the ship was in the Titanic movie.”
We’re still laughing when the doors open into a massive lobby. Another blonde sits at the expansive desk and she smiles like she’s hit a lottery when she sees Wyatt. Yeah, this is pretty much what I expected.
“Ms. Lincoln, how are you?” he greets.
“I’m just fine. It’s good to see you again. Your father didn’t mention you were coming.”
“That’s all right, Kelly,” a gruff voice interrupts. My head spins to see a bulky man, maybe sixty years old, with salt and pepper hair. Smiling at us, he gestures for us to follow him. “Come on in. We have a few minutes before the board meeting.”
So, this is his father. I can see the resemblance. They have the same copper colored eyes that can’t decide whether they’re brown or gold. After we’re lead into a large, plush office, Wyatt introduces us.
“Cassidy, I’d like you to meet my father, Adam Cavenite. Dad, this is Cassidy West.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Cavenite,” I say, shaking his outstretched hand.
“Please, call me Adam. I hear you’re Wyatt’s right hand woman at his new store.”
“I’m very happy to have the opportunity.”
Wyatt gestures for me to sit and then takes a seat in the chair beside me. Adam sits back with a little smirk on his face.
“So, burned down after a month, huh? You ready to try a different area? A little more populated?” The self-satisfaction in his voice makes me cringe. He actually sounds happy that his son’s venture is struggling.
Wyatt seems unperturbed. “Not at all. I’m waiting to hear from the building inspector and I’ll get busy rebuilding. We’ll be open again in six weeks or so, I’d estimate.”
Adam shakes his head. “Stubborn until the end.”
“We’re nowhere near the end. My Faristown location is doing well, turning a profit, and based on the first month’s sales in Morganville, the new store will be even more successful.”
“If you can keep it standing.”
“A minor setback,” Wyatt insists.
The tension in the room is suffocating as they fall quiet and proceed to stare one another down. The voice of the Animal Channel narrator plays in my head.
Here you see the alpha male in its natural habitat, facing down an offspring to show he’s still dominant, but the aggression is wasted on the next generation, as he’s poised to replace the aging pack leader.
Finally, Wyatt gets to his feet and holds out his hand to me. “Cass, I’ll show you to our lounge where you can wait for me. I have to attend a board meeting.”
“It was nice meeting you, Ms. West,” Adam says, stressing my name to draw attention to the fact that Wyatt called me Cass.
“You too,” I mumble as we leave.
“Sorry about that,” Wyatt says as soon as we’re out of earshot. “My father is a little…intense.”
“It’s fine.”
I’m guided to the empty lounge which boasts a comfortable couch, a shiny wooden table and chairs, kitchenette, and a giant television. “There are plenty of drinks and snacks in the fridge,” he tells me while handing me the TV remote. “I’ll be back in less than an hour. I promise.”
His shoulders are hunched a bit and his face is drawn. I’ve never seen him so tense, even when Scarlet Toys was burning. Before he can rush off, I slide my arms around his waist and hug him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine right here. Go do what you need to do. Show them you’ve got this. Then I’ll reward you when we get back to your place.”
His arms tighten around me for a few seconds before he looks down at me. His face relaxes into a smile and he kisses my forehead. “You’re too damn good for me. An hour and we’re out of here, sweetheart.”
The endearment is still ringing in my ears when he leaves.
I have the lounge to myself for the entire hour until Wyatt returns. I spend most of the time on my phone, looking for some new patterns and ideas for stuffed animals. There’s a really cute snow leopard design, but I might have trouble finding the material.
My mom loved to sew and after she made me a little stuffed kitten when I was nine, I begged her to teach me. I’ve been making animals ever since.
Wyatt appears in the doorway, his posture tense. “Ready to go?” he asks, forcing a smile.
I wonder why he wants to be in charge here when the whole place seems to stress him out. “Sure. Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’m ready to get you home and in my bed.”
“We might need to eat at some point.”
Wyatt shoots me a devious grin as we step out of the elevator into the parking garage. “That’s the plan.”
“Food,” I laugh. “I’m going to need some actual sustenance to keep up with you.”
His car glides smoothly onto the highway. “I know a good Italian place that has take-out.”
“Sounds good to me.”
For some reason, I expected a high scale restaurant, but he pulls into a little hole-in-the-wall place near his apartment. It smells amazing inside and the woman who waits on us is pleasant and friendly.
“Your usual?” she asks Wyatt.
He looks down at me. “I usually get a half and half. Half spaghetti and half alfredo. They also have delicious ravioli and tetrazzini if you’d rather try that.”
“I’ll just have what you’re having. I’m not picky.”
“Double my usual, plus garlic bread,” he tells her, and she jots it down before heading in the back.
There are a couple of ancient arcade video games tucked into the corner and I grin when I see a tabletop version of Tetris where two players can compete. My mom had an old gaming system and I played Tetris until my hands were numb.
“Want to play?” I ask, digging a few quarters from my pocket.
His lip turns up in a smirk. “Tetris?”
“Hey, if you aren’t any good at it…” I shrug and walk toward the machine.
He drops into the chair across from me. “Play until they call our name? Highest score wins?”
“You’re on.”
We plunk in the quarters and hit start at the same time. Now, I know Wyatt is a gamer, judging by the multiple systems in his living room, but Tetris is a little before his time and way before mine. I’m counting on that little fact to give me an advantage.
And it does.
While he watches carefully to line up each piece, I instantly turn and drop mine, leaving an open space on the end while I set up for a Tetris. Wyatt peeks over at my screen and scoffs. I’m sure it looks like I’m losing since I’ve built up over half of the screen. His smug look fades when I finally get the lines I’ve been waiting for.
Three in a row. Bam Bam Bam. Three Tetris’s.
The machine plays the little tone and moves onto the next level. By the time the woman calls his name, I’m three levels ahead of him and not even breaking a sweat. It’s been a while since I played, but it’s still second nature to me.
“Keep going,” he encourages, standing behind me with our food.
“Nah, we’ll be here all night. My personal best was level twenty.” I stand up and push my chair in, letting the pieces build up until the game ends.
“So, do you like any games from this decade?” he asks as we get back on th
e road.
“My mom had an old game system. It’s the only one I’ve ever tried to play. I’ve never really been into it, but I’d give it a try.” I grin at him. “You just want to play a game where I won’t wipe the floor with you.”
“Guilty.” His lips twitch. “I’d also like to see what you could do on a first-person shooter. You have fast reflexes.”
When we get inside his apartment, he places the bag of food on the counter, and I make a quick detour to use his bathroom. As I’m stepping back through the door, an arm wraps around me from behind, and his warm breath is in my ear.
“The food can wait,” he murmurs. “You’re too sexy. I can’t stand it.”
“Wow, Tetris really turns you on,” I giggle, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck.
“You really turn me on.”
After a thoroughly satisfying hour in Wyatt’s huge bed, and another quickie in his shower that could double as a roman bath, my stomach gives a loud growl.
“Hands off, you sex fiend. I’m starving,” I tell him when he runs his palm between my legs.
Wyatt’s hand grabs mine as I’m stepping out of the shower. “Are you going to leave me in here all alone?”
“I’m sure you’ll survive while I heat up our food.”
“Ditched for a plate of spaghetti,” he teases, stepping back into the spray and grabbing a bottle of shampoo.
It isn’t until I’m in his kitchen that I remember it’s like the command center of a damned space ship. I have no idea how to work any of this shit. Thankfully, they apparently can’t make a microwave too fancy for me to figure out so I manage to heat up our pasta, but the toaster oven is another story.
It’s one of those toaster/ convection / infrared / rotisserie / so smart it could probably overthrow the human race type of contraptions. I’m at a loss looking at all the dials and temperature controls.
Wyatt struts in the room wearing a pair of sweat pants, his hair still damp. “I was going to heat up the bread, but I have no idea how to work this,” I confess.
“It’s voice activated. Just tell it what to do.”
Seriously? The lives of rich people are so different.
Wyatt walks into the pantry while I put two pieces of bread into the little metal beast. After closing the door, I say, “Toast.”
Nothing happens. It’s not even warming up.
“Turn on. Heat.”
Again nothing.
“On, damn it!”
Is there a certain word to make it work? “Dick,” I grumble. I turn around to call for Wyatt and find him standing in the doorway, his entire body shaking with laughter.
Fuck. I’m an idiot.
“You asshole!” I exclaim, shoving him.
His words come out in little gasps. “I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think you’d really do it.”
“Look at this place! Voice activation wasn’t hard to believe.”
He runs a hand through his hair, still laughing at me. “You called my toaster a dick.”
“I hate you.” I’m sure he doesn’t believe that since I can’t suppress my smile.
His arms wrap around my middle, pulling my back to his chest and he kisses the top of my head. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ll get you back. You’ll never see it coming.”
“I look forward to it.”
He walks over and turns a few knobs on the oven, and it starts to glow. “Plates are in that cabinet,” he says, gesturing.
“Let me guess, I need a password, or maybe I have to touch it three times or some bullshit?” I giggle.
“Nah, you just have to be naked.”
Shooting him a dirty look, I grab two plates from the cabinet. He places two sets of silverware beside them and pours us both a drink. It’s silent for a few minutes while we both dig into the food.
“So, is everything okay at work?”
“Everything’s fine. Same as usual.”
“Your dad really wants to win, doesn’t he?” I know they have a little bet, but I figured it was just a father’s way of challenging his son, letting him test his skills before he takes charge, but after today’s meeting, I don’t think so. It seemed like he genuinely wanted Wyatt to fail.
“Picked up on that, huh?” Wyatt takes a bite, then sits back. “He’d rather my brother, Vince, take over when he retires, but Vince isn’t interested in any of it. He’s an artist with no desire to run a business. So, he’s stuck with me. He’s not crazy about my ideas though, so if this venture fails, he assumes I’ll give up and do things his way.” He grins at me. “Not going to happen. If I’m running the business, then I’m running it my way.”
I understand what he’s saying, but it’s still sad. “Does it bother you that he’s rooting for you to fail?”
“No, it just makes me try harder.” My glass clinks as he refills it. “You’ve never told me about your family. I know you said your mother passed, but do you see your dad? Have any brothers or sisters?”
“I don’t know my father. He bailed when I was a toddler. Mom was an only child and so am I, so I don’t have any relatives.”
Wyatt blinks and gazes at me. “That has to be tough. Having no family.”
“I don’t really think about it. I have good friends, and I assume I’ll have a family of my own when I’m ready.” Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I turn the subject back to him. “What about your mother? Is she in the picture?”
“She lives in California. They divorced a few years ago and she moved in with a guy. I see her a few times a year, holidays and such.”
He gets to his feet and puts our plates into the dishwasher. Turning to me with a grin, he asks, “Do you want to tell it to wash?”
I throw a dishtowel at him. “Just keep it up. Payback is almost as big a bitch as me.”
We spend the rest of the evening watching movies on his ridiculously huge television before heading to bed in the early hours of the morning. He’s a natural night owl, just like me.
We sleep until nearly noon, and pack up to head to his cabin on Monroe Lake. Wyatt is in a good mood, maybe because he heard back from the building inspector and insurance company. It looks like we’ll be back in business in about a month.
When we pull into the long, wooded drive that leads to his cabin, his shoulders soften and he seems as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him. All that ambition must be stressful.
The cabin is modest sized and all the furniture has obviously been chosen with comfort in mind. “I love it,” I exclaim, falling back onto the king-sized bed.
“You haven’t seen the view yet.”
I follow him out to the back deck and I instantly know I’m never going to want to leave this place. Clear water reflects the blue of the sky, with tiny sparkles caught from the sun. His deck steps lead down to the bank where a kayak bobs beside a small dock. The lake is surrounded by woods, broken only by a few other houses.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.
He takes a deep breath. “I love it here, especially in the late summer when the city is sweltering.”
I take a seat at the patio table while he messes with a grill in the corner. “How do you like your steak?”
“Medium. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can grab a few potatoes from the bin in the kitchen.”
While I’m wrapping the potatoes in foil, he throws the steaks on the grill. “Do you like fish?”
“Sure.”
He turns and grins at me. “If we can catch a few tonight, I’ll grill them tomorrow.”
“I’ve never been fishing before. Sounds fun.”
Dinner is delicious. I swear I’m going to keep him around just to cook me steak. I’m a little surprised when he pulls out a joint as the sun goes down. I know he said he smokes occasionally, but I’ve never seen him. I guess this is the perfect place for it though.
We sit and watch the sun go down while we smoke.
“Still want to learn to fish?” he asks.
>
I assumed he meant during the day, but why not?
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
* * * *
What was I thinking?
I’m so far outside of my comfort zone here, it’s barely a speck in the distance. I’m a city girl. I grew up in a big city, then moved to the small town. At no point have I been out in the woods or at a lake at night.
You know that beautiful, glittery water I described when I first saw it? It’s somehow become a flat black expanse with god only knows what horrors lurking beneath the surface. Maybe it’s the little bit of weed we smoked or just the fact that I’m a foot away from the edge of the dock and one trip could see me plunged into the dark abyss that surrounds me, but it’s seriously creepy.
Wyatt hands me a fishing pole with the hook already baited. “What are you grinning about?” he asks, smiling.
“Just resisting the urge to make a master baiter joke. You’ll have to show me what to do. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
His chest is warm against my back as he steps up and puts a hand over mine, guiding me and demonstrating how to cast. “Now, watch the bobber,” he says, pointing to the tiny orange dot. “If it dips under, jerk the line, then reel it in.”
Okay, sounds simple enough.
Wyatt bends over and digs through the tackle box looking for something, and I take the opportunity to admire his ass in the moonlight. It’s eerily quiet for a minute until Wyatt calls out, startling me. “You have a bite! Reel it in!”
Damn it. I was supposed to be watching the bobber, not his ass. I quickly start reeling and I can feel the resistance against the line, although it isn’t strong. A few seconds before my catch breaks the water, I sort of…panic.
I blame the weed for the sudden fear that I’m going to pull some freaky huge creature bred in nuclear waste from the dark depths. I shove the pole into Wyatt’s stomach. “You do it!”
Deep laughter echoes across the lake as he takes it and turns the reel a few more times. My laughter mixes with his when the killer mutant creature breaks the surface of the water. It bears a suspicious resemblance to a tiny fish.
