Best Friends With the Billionaire (The Rochesters) (15 page)

“Of course you have a say.” She wasn’t going to let him see how much he was hurting her. “I’m counting on you for some sage advice.”

He scratched his jaw, for the first time seeming slightly uncertain. “I’m no expert in these things. I don’t want you taking my advice and later regretting it.”

“Well, what do you think of Russell?” she persisted.

“He seems…okay.” He rubbed his chin harder, scraping his bristles loudly. “He doesn’t look anything like Wolverine, though.”

Ooh. Was that a tinge of jealousy? She blinked her eyelashes at Kirk. “No? He’s still pretty good-looking, you have to admit.”

Kirk pressed his lips together. “I don’t take notice of how good-looking a guy is,” he said with a touch of derision. “And since when do you judge a man by the way he looks?”

“Oh, I agree it’s not everything. Russell has a lot more going for him than just his looks. He’s smart and funny and generous.”

“Remind me again why you broke up with him?”

“Because…” Her heart tightened. “Because I’m not sure I’m in love with him.”

Kirk gave her a long, penetrating look. “So now he’s flown all the way here and practically gone down on bended knee, does that make a difference?”

“Well, it is a grand gesture. I never expected something like that.”

Lines bracketed Kirk’s thinned mouth. “Are you moving into his hotel room?” he bit out.

Her breathing hitched. Kirk didn’t seem all that happy about Russell turning up, but he wasn’t doing much to discourage a reconciliation. If only he would say something to make her believe he wanted her to stay here with him.

“’Course not. I haven’t decided anything about him yet.”

The lines around his mouth softened a fraction. “Okay. Don’t do anything hasty.”

“You don’t mind me staying on here, do you?”

“Not at all. Stay as long as you want.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Something to hold onto while she navigated this tricky minefield.

“Thanks.” She swallowed. “I’m really grateful, Kirk. I don’t want to make the wrong decisions.”

He folded his arms across his chest, his expression tensing, and he seemed a lot more than three inches taller than her.

“You do realize we can’t sleep together while Russell is in town.”

Her mouth fell open as her face burned. “Uh…”

“It would only confuse the issue.”

He was so matter-of-fact, damn him. “Yeah…”

“Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but”—he lifted a shoulder—“it’s better we stop now.”

Enjoy
it? Was that all? Did he enjoy sleeping with her like he enjoyed a cup of coffee, a walk through the park, a Super Bowl game? Indignation burned in the pit of her stomach.

“Sure, yeah.” She flicked back her hair, tamping down the hurt boiling inside her. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course we should stop.”

He pressed his hand on her shoulder, and she fought against the warmth, the promise of pleasure radiating from his touch.

“Cassie, don’t get me wrong. What we had was special and spectacular, but I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t step back at this point. I want you to make the best possible decision, uninfluenced by anything I do or say.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Why wouldn’t he do or say anything to influence her? Why wouldn’t he show she meant something to him? Why wouldn’t Kirk
fight
for her?

He squeezed her shoulder. “You deserve only the best, Cassie.”

Oh yeah? Did that include the love of her life kissing her while uttering another woman’s name? If only she had the courage to fling that question at him. But she was too cowardly. She’d rather scrabble for the scraps that fell her way than climb up and demand a seat at the table.

“I agree.” She gave him a brilliant smile. Oh, she was too good at this—masking her feelings, showing him only what he wanted to see.

She backed away from him, his touch unbearable now.

“I’ll go take a shower.” Alone. Without his arms around her, his mouth teasing hers.

Nodding, he turned back to his desk, saying over his shoulder, “And I have some work to catch up.”

No mention of dinner together in Chinatown. Not that she could bear sharing a meal with him and pretending nothing was wrong. There was only so much she could fake.

She exited the study quickly before her emotions could betray her.

…

“Where were you yesterday?” Lex asked as he leaned back in his seat on the other side of Kirk’s desk.

Kirk, unprepared for his cousin’s question, clicked his pen and scribbled something on the report they were meant to be discussing.

“Why?” he asked. “Was there some emergency?”

“No, I wanted to see if you and Cassie were free for a drink with me and Jacinta. But your assistant said you’d canceled all your appointments and were gone for the whole day.”

Kirk rubbed the base of his neck, where a stubborn knot had been ever since Cassie’s ex-boyfriend showed up.

“Cassie and I spent the day at Yosemite,” he said briefly.

“Yeah?” There was a speculative gleam in Lex’s eyes that Kirk didn’t appreciate. “So what about tomorrow night? Wednesday. Do you and Cassie want to meet up with me and Jacy? I thought we’d try that new wine bar on Union Square.”

“I’ll ask her.” But she’d probably be too busy with Russell. His fingers clenched the pen harder.

Lex tapped his fingers on the arm rest of his chair. “I heard you left Saturday’s game as soon as it was over. Hank Parnell wasn’t too happy.”

“I had something urgent to do.” Kirk leveled a hard gaze at his cousin. They might be allies now, but after years of rivalry the competitiveness still lingered. “You’re not trying to tell me how to do my business, are you?”

Lex instantly raised his hands. “Not at all. The hotel division is your baby.”

“Glad we’ve got that straight.”

“But I’ve done business with guys like Parnell, and they like having their egos stroked. You leaving his function early made him look bad in front of his other guests.”

Kirk gritted his teeth. “Don’t hassle me, Lex. I’ve got this deal under control.”

Lex backed off, and they returned to the report. But later, when Kirk was alone, he realized that Lex was looking out for him, and that he had a point about Hank Parnell. The big guy was puffed up on his own importance, and it hadn’t been very diplomatic of Kirk to skip the after-game booze up. He should at least have stayed an hour. But he’d been too worked up over Cassie. Too distracted, too horny to think straight.

Now he’d come thudding back to earth. Cassie was his friend, not his lover. Her ex-boyfriend had just made the kind of grand, romantic gesture only seen in chick flicks. She might have written Russell off, but this sudden reappearance had obviously sowed doubt in her mind. As her friend, Kirk had done the only decent thing possible—he’d backed off to give her the space to make up her own mind.

And as he’d mentally retreated, he began to get a new perspective on what he’d done these past few days. He’d blown off Parnell and put the deal further out of his reach. He’d neglected his business, the number one priority in his life now. And he’d risked his friendship with Cassie, too. A friendship that was currently under some stress.

Last night Cassie had left the house, saying she was going to her mom’s, but he suspected she’d really seen Russell. She’d come back at ten and gone straight to her room. This morning they’d clumsily danced around each other in the kitchen, both trying to pretend nothing had changed, and both failing. He didn’t know what her plans were for this evening, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her if this awkwardness was going to continue.

He kneaded the tightness in his neck again. See, this was the trouble he’d foreseen but willfully ignored when he’d first started seeing Cassie in a different light. Sleeping with a best friend was a bad, bad idea.

Chapter Nine

Later that day, Kirk left the office earlier than usual and made his way home. He hadn’t contacted Cassie, but he hoped she’d be at home. He wanted them to hang out like old times, maybe play some basketball and then order a pizza and watch a movie. Nothing special, no fancy meals, no deep conversations. And no making out, either. He wanted to regain that easiness he’d always enjoyed with her. Only now did he realize how much he appreciated it. Needed it. Missed it.

But when he opened his front door, the sound of several voices floated out from the kitchen, and his hopes of a quiet evening with Cassie faded. He walked into the kitchen to find Cassie with a middle-aged couple. The woman—tall and lean with platinum-gray hair and an open, lined face—had been talking and gesturing animatedly, but she paused as soon as Kirk appeared.

“Oh, hi, Kirk.” Cassie darted forward, a glass of juice clutched in her hands. “I didn’t think you’d be home so early. This is my Aunt Betsy and Uncle Mario from Sydney. They flew in this morning.”

Kirk exchanged greetings and shook hands with her relatives, who seemed like a nice, down-to-earth couple. As he made some small talk with them, he couldn’t help noticing Cassie’s uneasiness. She hadn’t expected him at this hour, or she might not have brought her relatives around. That stung him.

“Aunt Betsy and Uncle Mario came to pick me up for dinner,” Cassie explained, still toying with her half-full glass. “I was showing them around for a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner?” Mario said. Several inches shorter and wider than his wife, he was dressed in beige slacks, a Hawaiian shirt, and loafers. “We like meeting Cassie’s friends, and it sounds like you two have been friends for ages.”

“Yes, do,” Betsy chimed in.

She was Cassie’s mom’s sister, but the only resemblance Kirk saw was in their lean frames. Betsy wore a tie-dyed dress with black leggings and flat sandals, with silver bangles clinking on her wrists, and her hair twisted up in a casual bun. She looked relaxed, friendly, approachable. No wonder Cassie preferred living in Sydney.

Kirk glanced at Cassie, trying to gauge her opinion. Did she want him to come along?

She lifted her eyebrows and gave him a vague smile. He didn’t know what that meant.

“I’d love to come,” he said to Betsy and Mario. Maybe he and Cassie could still relax over dinner with her relatives. And besides, he was hungry.

They ended up in an Italian restaurant in North Beach. The place was a cliché of red-checkered tablecloths, raffia wine bottles, and strings of fake garlic, but according to Betsy the restaurant was highly recommended, and Mario was keen to try out San Franciscan Italian food.

“We don’t visit San Francisco very often,” he explained to Kirk after they’d placed their orders.

“I’m happy in Sydney,” Betsy said to him. “I’ve been out of the States for twenty years, and I don’t miss a thing except for maybe the sourdough bread.” She picked up the slice on her plate and took a big bite before nodding at Cassie. “Why aren’t you trying the sourdough? You love it as much as I do.”

“You know why, Aunt Betsy. It’s four days to the wedding, and I’ve got to fit into that dress of mine.”

Betsy frowned and looked like she was about to argue, but then she sighed. “I know you want to please your mom and sister, but I’ll be glad when we get you back to Sydney.” She nudged her husband sitting beside her. “Mario, maybe you should tell her.”

“Now? I thought we were going to wait until after the wedding.”

“No, it’s better now. Or I might let it out by accident. You know I can’t keep secrets.”

“What’s going on?” Cassie said. “What’s this big secret?”

Mario settled himself in his seat and rested his elbows on the table. “It’s about you, Cassie. I was very impressed by your last project, and so was everyone else. Now, you probably don’t know, but Gus is transferring to Melbourne, so I need someone to take over his new project in Sydney, and I couldn’t think of anyone better than you.”

“Me?” Cassie started. “Take over from Gus? I—I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a twenty-million-dollar project. You’ll have to start as soon as you get back to Sydney.”

Betsy leaned across the table and squeezed Cassie’s hand. “Oh, you’ll be terrific, Cassie. You know your uncle is as hard-nosed as they come where his business is concerned, but you’ve earned this promotion fair and square. Mario’s going to give you a pay rise and a company car, and you’ll need an assistant, of course.”

Cassie turned to Kirk. She was sitting next to him, and he’d felt her tense when her uncle had revealed his news. Now, her toffee-brown eyes stared at him, wide and confused, and it seemed she was asking him something.

His gut was snarled, and his shoulders ached as spasms rippled down his back. A voice buried deep in his brain growled out—tell her not to accept. Tell her not to go back to Sydney. Tell her to stay and…and do what?

Damn this stupid, idiotic voice. Wasn’t he supposed to be Cassie’s best friend? He was meant to support her, not sabotage her.

He cleared his throat, and with an equanimity that surprised him, asked, “Who’s Gus?”

“My manager. Former manager, now, I guess,” she muttered. She turned back to her aunt and uncle, clearly agonized. “Oh, Aunt Betsy, Uncle Mario, I don’t know what to say. Are you sure I’m up to the job? You’re not just offering it to me because we’re related, are you?”

Mario snorted. “You heard your aunt. When it’s my business I’m not soft on family. I fired my own sister’s son because he was too lazy.” He tossed a couple of olives into his mouth. “If you accept, you’ll be working hard for the next two years. No time for long holidays, you understand.”

Beneath the table cloth Kirk’s hand curled into a fist. No vacations, no visits, no Christmas in a snowbound hotel.

“Oh, you’re frightening her off,” Betsy protested. “Cassie, I know you’ll do a fantastic job.” She cast an imploring glance in Kirk’s direction. “Kirk, you’re her friend. Tell her how smart and talented and hard-working she is, and how taking this job would be the best thing ever for her.”

Cassie’s eyes were glued on him. Her hands strangled a napkin in her lap. Perspiration prickled his back beneath his shirt. It felt like something was tearing him apart.

He fixed his gaze on her. “It sounds like a great opportunity,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “You really should take it.”

She stared at him a few more seconds, and then she seemed to deflate, the light fading from her eyes, her shoulders drooping as she swiveled away from him.

“Thank you, Uncle Mario. I hope I won’t let you down.”

Cassie wouldn’t let her uncle down, Kirk knew in his bones. She’d be great at her job, and she’d remain in Sydney for years. Maybe, like her aunt, she’d stay there permanently and only come back to San Francisco on rare occasions. And when she did, maybe he would take her out to restaurants like this and talk about the old days. The idea made his heart contract.

The conversation flowed on around Kirk, but he barely heard any of it. He was trying to be a good friend to Cassie. He was looking out for her. Betsy and Mario were much nicer to her than her mom, and the promotion sounded like a big step up. He wanted Cassie to have the best because she deserved the best.

And if the thought of not seeing her again for years made his entire body spasm, well, that was just pure selfishness on his part. He’d learn to live with it.

…

Cassie waved good-bye to her aunt and uncle as they got into the taxi to return to their hotel. She loved Aunt Betsy and Uncle Mario, but the dinner they’d just finished had to be one of the longest meals she’d ever had to sit through. Her mom would have been pleased at the way she’d poked at her food, barely able to force three mouthfuls past the permanent lump in her throat.

That lump was still present as she turned to Kirk, who was waiting for her to get into his car. Drawing in a breath, she stepped inside, and soon they were speeding through North Beach. She felt as if she’d been holding her breath all through dinner. Waiting for Kirk to say something. Something like, “Don’t take that job. Don’t go back to Sydney. Stay here and…”

But that was where her imagination ran dry. She couldn’t imagine what else he might say. Especially not after the way he’d so quickly urged her to accept Uncle Mario’s promotion. Like he couldn’t wait for her to be gone.

“I like your aunt and uncle,” Kirk said when they were near his house.

She started. They’d spent almost the entire ride in silence, and she hadn’t expected him to speak now.

“Yes, they’ve been wonderful to me,” she agreed, wanting to sound as normal as possible. “Uncle Mario has a big extended family, and there’s always something going on at their house.”

“I’m glad. It’s good to have family, and they seem a lot more easy-going than your mom and sister.”

Out of nowhere she felt an inexplicable need to defend her immediate family. “Yes, they are, but I’m learning to appreciate my mom and Lillian.”

He didn’t say anything more until they reached his home. He parked the car, and they walked inside. The headache she’d woken up with and that had nagged her all day was now reverberating through her skull, and as she crossed the hallway, her heel caught in the carpet, causing her to stumble.

“Careful.” Kirk’s hand shot out to grip her elbow.

His sudden grasp only made her more dizzy. She tried to push him away. “I’m fine.”

His fingers remained curled around her arm, sending tingles through her bloodstream. She’d had only one glass of wine at dinner, yet she felt drunk, nauseated.

“You don’t look fine,” he said.

“Well, thanks.” She yanked herself free and stalked down the hallway to the kitchen.

Kirk was right behind her, and there was no ignoring his solid presence. Even with her eyes closed she could sense his exact location, could smell him stalking her. She didn’t want to look at him right now because she was afraid of what he might see in her face. Yanking open the fridge, she pretended to search for something inside.

“What’s wrong with you?” he suddenly burst out.

Her spine stiffened. She couldn’t help spinning round. “What?”

His gimlet eyes immobilized her. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all night, but you won’t say why. You’re behaving like a typical—”

She slammed the fridge shut. “Like a typical woman? Is that what you meant?” She lifted her arms and spread them apart. “I happen to be a woman, in case you’d forgotten.”

“Don’t give me that crap. What is it? If you wanted a private dinner with your aunt and uncle, you should’ve signaled me. I can take a hint.”

“No, of course I didn’t mind you coming.”

“Really? Because I was getting some pretty strong vibes from you all through dinner, and they weren’t exactly friendly.”

He stepped closer, right into her personal space. She couldn’t think straight when his body was only inches away, when she had so much to hide from him. She stepped back only to have the cool metallic door of the fridge press into her spine.

“You’re too full of yourself, Kirk. If I seemed ‘unfriendly’ to you, I didn’t mean it. I was distracted. I have a lot to think about.”

He was still for a while. “You mean your promotion,” he said flatly. “What’s there to think about? Like I said, it sounds like a great opportunity.”

There he went again, pushing her away. One minute he was in her face, the next he was backing right off. She didn’t understand him at all tonight.

“I want to consider my options. I want to be satisfied I’m making the right decision.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “Okay.”

“It’s a big deal, you know.”

“Sure.”

The more she wanted a reaction from him, the more he shut down.

But then he lifted an arm toward her, and she froze, heart pattering. Was he going to kiss her? Was he offering himself as an option? Bracing his arm, he rested his palm against the fridge door inches from her head.

“Cassie,” he murmured.

His voice pulled her in. His mouth was so alluring. Already in her imagination she could feel his lips moving hungrily over hers.

“What?” she whispered.

“Do you mind moving your ass? I want to get a drink out the fridge.”

Oh. What a dummy she was. Mute, she shuffled out of the way. Kirk pulled out two bottles of water and tossed one of them at her, which she barely managed to catch.

“Right. Options,” Kirk said after he’d taken a swallow of water. “What are your options, and what are the pros and cons of each?”

Typical Kirk, viewing her situation like a business problem to be solved on a whiteboard. She opened her bottle of water and gulped down the cool liquid, hoping it would douse the fire he’d ignited in her body.

“Option one,” Kirk continued when she remained silent. “You take the promotion. Pros—good for your career, respect, more money, a new car. It all sounds good. So what are the cons?”

“Longer work hours, more stress, having to prove I earned the promotion and didn’t get it because he’s my uncle. I love Betsy and Mario, but it’s not always easy working for family. You know that.”

He leaned his tall frame against a kitchen counter. “Yes, those are all valid cons.”

She sucked in a breath, fiddling with the cap of her bottle. “Plus I wouldn’t have much downtime for at least two years, maybe more. The project he wants me to take over isn’t straightforward. It’s a conversion of an old mill into apartments. There’ll be heritage restrictions and the usual problems with an old building. I’m pretty much signing up for a two year labor camp.”

Kirk lifted his shoulder. “You never struck me as shy of hard work.”

“No, but…there’s more to life than just hard work. This trip has made me realize I’m missing out on some things.”

He crossed his arms and balanced the water bottle in the crook of his elbow, his face growing wary. “Yeah? Like what?”

Like being with the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Like talking and arguing and eating and making love with him every single day. Like loving a man with all her heart and knowing he loved her just as much.

Those things.