Page 67 of Mr. Wilde

“How are you?”

The question catches me off guard. “I’m fine, sir. And you?”

He shifts his stance from foot to foot. “I was curious if you had any time off coming up? If you’d be willing to try once more?” he asks, skipping the small talk. “The phone records. I think you were onto something.”

“At the hotel?” I ask, my voice wary.

“No. We could take the jet this time. Go to my place. On the Potomac. I thought... you might feel more comfortable there than in a hotel suite.”

I stare at him. I’m not sure how I’d feel more comfortable in a secluded mansion an hour away where there’s no easy exit strategy. But he’s never given me a reason to think he’d hurt me. Not physically, anyway.

Breaking my heart is a different story.

“I could make us dinner,” he adds, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “We can work, and then maybe watch a movie in my home theater. Or binge Criminal Minds reruns.” He waggles his brows.

What is happening right now?

I bite my lip. “Max, this is sounding a little like a date.”

He flinches a fraction. “I know,” he replies. Yet, awkwardly enough, he doesn’t deny it. “Do you mind thinking about it?”

“Okay.” I’m not sure what else to say. It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy that. But this guy’s mixed signals are going to give me whiplash. He walks away, leaving me vibrating with indecision.

I want to work with him. I want to learn from him. And I definitely have imagined what it might be like to have more with him. But not at the expense of my heart.

I wander over to the bar to find Lala polishing a glass with a focus that suggests she’s seen the whole exchange. I shouldn’t tell her. I don’t want her to think I’m breaking the off-limits rule. Yet keeping it from her feels as if it would be worse.

“Lala, I wanted to run something by you.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, Max and I… I’ve been working with him on a project recently. It’s aligned with the courses I’m studying, so it’s been a great opportunity for me. And Gianni is aware, because he has allowed us to work in his office. But the nature of the work is such that it requires a lot of focus. I haven’t been able to concentrate with all of the interruptions.”

Lala listens, her expression unreadable.

“He’s asked if I’ll join him at his office.” I decide to leave out the home part of this conversation. That sounds too risky, even to my ears.

She sets the glass down with a soft clink. “Are you falling for him, Cassidy?”

“No. I mean, he’s super nice. And incredibly attractive. But I know the rules. And this is purely business. I’m hoping it will garner great experience and a reference on my resume. That’s it. I can’t risk losing my job.” I need to keep telling myself this on repeat.

She raises a brow as if calling me out on my bullshit. “Be careful, Cass,” she says, her voice unusually grave. “You’re a smart girl. But you could be asking for trouble.”

“What do you know?” I ask, my heart sinking.

“Nothing for sure,” she says. “But I’ve got eyes, don’t I? That man is lost. I’d bet my life on it. And lost men usually end up taking someone down with them when they finally crash.”

I look toward the exit where Max disappeared.

Lala frowns. “Hurt people, hurt people.”

27

CASSIDY

I should be terrified. I’m currently thirty thousand feet in the air, seated in a leather chair that’s softer than my mattress at home, watching the city lights blur into a smear of gold beneath the wing of a private jet.

The interior of the plane is all brushed steel and dark wood. Immaculate and ridiculously expensive. Max sits across from me, his long legs stretched out, tapping away at a tablet. He looks completely unaffected, as if flying to his home for a work session is as mundane as taking the bus.