Best Friends With the Billionaire (The Rochesters) (3 page)

Why did she sound so…tortured? The back of his neck prickled as he sensed he’d wandered into a dangerous alley.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “I don’t know why I said that. Of course you don’t have to move in with me. It was just an idea.”

Cassie wasn’t looking at him. Maybe she was mad at him. That didn’t happen too often, and it made his insides contort. A strained silence fell over them as Cassie continued to twist her napkin, avoiding his eyes, while the remains of their dinner cooled and congealed between them.

A waiter arrived to clear their table and deposit a plate of fortune cookies.

Kirk pushed the small saucer toward Cassie. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.” She shook her head and reached for her purse. “Um, I’d better get going.”

“Yeah, sure.” He signaled for the waiter and dug for his wallet. As Cassie pulled a few bills from her purse, he said firmly, “Don’t. I’m paying for dinner.”

She paused as if considering arguing, then shrugged her shoulders and put away her money.

Outside the restaurant, he waved down a passing cab for her. Originally he’d planned to drive her back to her mom’s apartment, but the awkwardness between them made him think twice.

“I’ll call you.” He guided her into the cab and then shut the door for her. “And I’ll text you my address, just in case. You never know.”

“Kirk.” She stretched her head out the window, her expression strangely pleading. “I’m sorry, I…” Her voice trailed off as she appeared lost for words. She lifted her shoulders. “I’m sorry, that’s all. Good night.”

He straightened and watched the tail lights of the cab disappear around the corner. He hated them parting like this, especially after how much he’d been looking forward to their dinner. Cassie was only in town for a couple of weeks. He’d make it up to her. He had to. She was still his best friend, even if she didn’t want to be his fake girlfriend.

Chapter Two

The moment Cassie stepped into the apartment, she was confronted by her irate mother.

“I suppose you think this is funny.” Audrey waved her cell phone in Cassie’s face, the photo of the Chinese feast showing.

Cassie felt a familiar twinge of guilt as she registered the disapproval in her mom’s face. “I’m sorry, but I was so hungry.”

She moved through to the living room where her sister Lillian was in a sports bra and leggings, doing crunches in sync with an exercise DVD. Up until a month ago, Lillian and her fiancé Mark had been living together in Mark’s apartment, but with the wedding imminent, Lillian had moved back into Audrey’s place. It was easier that way to coordinate the hundred and one pre-nuptial items on their to-do list. They were both clearly enjoying the opportunity to live, eat, and breathe weddings twenty-four-seven.

“I knew you wouldn’t have the will power,” Audrey continued. “You’ve always eaten enough for two.”

The twinge in Cassie’s stomach tightened. Ever since the first signs of puppy fat had appeared on her, Audrey had harangued her about losing weight. Cassie had tried so desperately to slim down, had gone through such misery and self-loathing, but none of her efforts had ever appeased her mom. Even when she managed to drop a few pounds, she was still a big-boned, gawky oddball. No amount of dieting could whittle down her natural build.

“Well, look at me, Mom.” Cassie spread her arms wide. “I’m twice your size. Of course I need to eat twice as much as you.”

Her mom was reed slim and as elegant as a fifties movie star. Even tonight, a Sunday night at home, Audrey wouldn’t be caught dead in something like comfy sweatpants. She wore linen pants and a silk kaftan top, as stylish as ever. Her immaculate auburn hair was tastefully dusted with silver, and she had pink lipstick on. Cassie couldn’t remember ever seeing her mom without makeup.

“Back fat,” Lillian declared as she continued her exercise without pause.

“Excuse me?” Cassie turned to her sister.

Lillian sat up and reached for her towel to pat her face, which had barely broken a sweat. “I don’t want any of my bridesmaids showing back fat. It’s gross.”

“I don’t have back fat,” Cassie hotly replied.
I don’t, do I?

Her sister took a swig from her water bottle. “Strapless gowns have to be tight under the arms, so any amount of excess flesh tends to bulge out. I noticed that at your fitting the other day. I know you can’t help how big boned you are, but you might at least make an effort to shed a few pounds.”

Cassie gaped at her younger sister as her hands clenched and unclenched. Her head pounded, her throat closed, her stomach twisted. The dinner with Kirk had been stressful in a way, not as relaxing as she’d hoped. And now, after their strange little disagreement, she had to come home and be openly criticized by both her mom and sister.

“Oh, I don’t know why I should do that,” she blurted. “After all, my bulging back fat will only make you look thinner, and isn’t that the most important thing? For you to be the center of attention? Why don’t you forget those ab crunches and I’ll pork myself right up for you?”

Lillian jumped to her feet, her blond ponytail swishing like an angry cat’s tail. “Listen here, I’m trying my damndest to stay in shape for my wedding, and you can’t even lay off the Chinese food for two weeks. Some sister you are.”

She grabbed her water bottle and stalked out of the room. Lillian was a carbon copy of their mother—five-seven, slim, graceful, and ethereally beautiful. Clothes always looked better on her, cops let her off speeding tickets, opportunities miraculously opened up for her. People were always astonished when they discovered she and Cassie were sisters. Sometimes Cassie wondered, too, whether she’d been switched at birth. Maybe somewhere out there was a family of big, tall people with back fat, wondering who the dainty princess was in their midst.

“Do you have to pick a fight with your sister?” Audrey moved to the couch to rearrange the already perfect cushions. As an interior decorator, the gesture was automatic to her, one she performed countless times during the day.

Tears pricked the back of Cassie’s throat. “I didn’t mean to,” she muttered.

She and Lillian had never been close; they were too different—physically, emotionally, mentally. But Lillian was the only sibling Cassie had, and after getting to know Uncle Mario’s extended family in Sydney, she wanted to be closer to her sister, however different they might be.

Audrey didn’t seem to hear her, and she swept on. “It wouldn’t hurt you to pick up a few tips from your sister. Learn how to dress. Try to fit in with her friends.”

Try to fit in? Her mom’s words stirred up bitter memories. In high school—a snooty, exclusive school Audrey had insisted her daughters attend, even though she could barely afford the fees—Cassie had become the target of the mean girls club, a group of popular, pretty girls led by a particularly nasty queen bee. As Cassie’s life became hell, her grades suffered, and she gorged herself on comfort food, which only made her bigger and more of a target. In the depths of her depression, she’d finally confessed to her mom why she hid in her room all the time and made excuses not to go to school. Her mom’s advice? Lose weight, buy some pretty clothes, and try to fit in with the mean girls, because then Cassie might get invited to their parties and not be such a social outcast.

It was then that Cassie finally acknowledged that she and her mom had to have come from different planets. She’d stopped trying to fit in. With the help of a school counselor and some medication, she’d recovered from her depression, and her grades had improved. She’d stopped worrying about being unpopular, about not fitting in. But even after all these years her mom still believed changing her image was the solution to all Cassie’s problems.

“Lillian is under a lot of stress,” her mom continued as she moved over to fluff out the drapes. “A woman’s wedding is one of the most important days in her life. It’s only natural she wants everything to be perfect.”

Cassie rubbed her forehead wearily. “Look, I’m sorry. I am trying, but I just can’t share your and Lillian’s enthusiasm.”

Her mother shot her a frown. “Are you jealous? Because Lillian is two years younger than you and she’s getting married first?”

Once more Cassie’s mouth fell. “Uh, no. I’m not jealous of Lillian.”
Not one bit. Except for the unconditional love she inspires in you. Maybe that, a little.

Audrey cocked her head sideways and cast a critical gaze over Cassie. “If you paid more attention to your appearance, I’m sure you could find yourself a husband, too.”

The hefty dose of skepticism in Audrey’s voice caused something to snap in Cassie’s brain.

“Find a husband? Is that the pinnacle of a woman’s existence?”

“Shush. Why are you shouting?”

“I’m not shouting!”
Oh crap, I
am
shouting.

“Keep your voice down. What will the neighbors think?”

“Who frigging cares what they think?”

Lillian ran back into the room. “What’s going on, Mom? Why is Cassie yelling?”

“She’s frustrated because she can’t find a husband.”

Cassie dug her fingernails into her palms. Her head threatened to explode. “For crying out loud! I can’t take this anymore.”

She marched down the hall to her bedroom, plonked herself on the bed, and kneaded her temples, where an almighty headache was brewing. She could hear her mom and sister talking—about her—and they didn’t bother to lower their voices. A few minutes later they both appeared in the doorway.

“Cassie,” her mother began, “your sister and I have been discussing something.”

And she wasn’t going to like it, Cassie surmised by the pinched lines bracketing her mom’s lips.

“My friend Rose Gruzman lives on the floor below me,” Audrey said. “She lives by herself and has plenty of spare space. I’m sure if I asked she’d let you stay with her. Only until the wedding, of course.”

Cassie blinked. “You’re kicking me out?”

“No, I’m not. You don’t have to stay with Mrs. Gruzman if you don’t want to. But, well”—Audrey lifted her narrow shoulders—“it might ease the tensions here if you did.”

“You understand, don’t you?” Lillian shone her baby blue eyes at Cassie in what was supposed to be a winning manner but only wounded Cassie more. “Mom and I, we don’t want to bore you silly with our wedding talk. We’re only thinking of you, really.”

She shouldn’t feel so hurt. After all, only an hour ago she’d been complaining about her family to Kirk, had even contemplated moving out to preserve her sanity. Now, it seemed her mom and sister felt the same way.

“We’ll still want you to come with us to all the appointments, fittings, and rehearsals,” Lillian added. “You’re still my bridesmaid.”

Well, at least her sister still wanted her at the wedding. Probably because her bridesmaid gown was already set and couldn’t be altered in time for someone else. No, that was an unworthy thought. She had to believe her sister still had some feelings for her. Maybe this was for the best, even though it stung.

Without a word, she got to her feet, hauled out her suitcase, and began tossing her belongings into it.

“Should I call Mrs. Gruzman?” Audrey asked.

“No need,” Cassie said. “I’ll move in with a friend. In fact, he already offered.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “He?”

Cassie picked up a sweater and folded it carefully. She’d never told her mother about Kirk Rochester. When she and Kirk had met during her sophomore year, she hadn’t been on speaking terms with her mother, and later, when their relationship had thawed somewhat, she’d still kept silent about her friendship with Kirk.

Because her mom would be all over her like a rash if she knew she was friends with one of the Rochesters. Audrey had been born into a wealthy, well-connected family. She’d been raised as an heiress, with nothing expected of her except to look and act the part. But not long before her twenty-first birthday, her father had lost his fortune to gambling and bad investments. Audrey was no longer a somebody, but she soon married an up-and-coming young lawyer, whom everyone said was going to make partner soon. Unfortunately he died before that could happen, leaving her with two young girls to raise and enough life insurance by most standards but not nearly sufficient to keep the widow in the style to which she was accustomed. Audrey Cooper’s life had been a succession of great expectations followed by great disappointments. She might have been as wealthy and influential as the Rochesters, with the same social carte blanche, but instead she was an interior decorator, working for the socialites who’d once been her contemporaries.

So Cassie wasn’t about to tell her mom she was moving in with Kirk Rochester, the billionaire bachelor of San Francisco, or she’d incur her mother’s all-consuming curiosity and none too subtle prying.

“He’s an old friend from college, Mom,” she said, placing the sweater in the suitcase and then shutting the lid. “The one I had dinner with tonight.”

“Oh.” Audrey pursed her lips. “I hope he won’t expect an invitation to the wedding.”

Cassie suppressed a wry smile. If her mom knew she was talking about Kirk Rochester, she’d hand-deliver a gilded invitation to him on bended knee.

“No, he won’t.”

“Anything going on between you two?” Lillian threw her a coy look.

“No.” Cassie couldn’t help frowning at her sister. “We’re
friends
. Good friends.”

Nothing had ever happened between her and Kirk…except for that one night two years ago. But that had been a terrible mistake; Kirk hadn’t even realized it was her. No, that night didn’t count. She didn’t even want to remember it.

Lillian shrugged, off-hand, interest waning. “Sure. Remember our nine thirty meeting with the wedding planner at her office tomorrow.” She sauntered off without waiting for a reply.

Audrey wagged her finger. “We have a lot to go through, so don’t be late.”

So neither of them was bothered much that she was moving out. Huh. She wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt.

And Kirk? Would he be surprised when she showed up on his doorstep? She contemplated calling him first but then decided not to. When she’d initially refused his invitation, he’d practically started an argument over it, so she wasn’t going to let him have second thoughts. She had his address from the text message he’d sent her before she’d arrived home. She’d catch a cab to his place and see his reaction when he opened the door. Maybe he’d be overwhelmed with joy. Maybe he’d catch her in his arms and swing her round. Yeah right, and maybe she was too darn optimistic. But it was nice to dream.

…

Kirk prowled around his living room, too wound up to relax or do anything. He’d tried the TV, a book, some music, but nothing could ease the knots in his stomach. Several times he picked up his cell phone, ready to call Cassie, but at the last minute he’d changed his mind.

Earlier, he’d texted his address to her, but now he really needed to talk to her…but didn’t know what he wanted to say. An unusual situation. When had he ever had trouble talking to Cassie? That was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place—that they could talk easily about anything without any undercurrents flowing between them.

The student share house he’d lived in had been mostly occupied by guys. When a room had become available, Emilio, one of his housemates, had suggested Cassie would be a good fit. According to Emilio, Cassie was cool because she wasn’t a girly girl. She wouldn’t bitch about cleanliness, or hog the bathroom, or force them to watch
The Bachelor
. And then she’d shown up, six-foot tall with cropped, blue hair, a nose stud, and long legs clad in baggy jeans, looking all tough and rebellious but with the sweetest smile and a hint of shyness. She talked about sports, she drank beer, she played hockey like a demon. She was “one of the guys,” but a guy with a tender, feminine side, and that was how Kirk had treated her.

Now, though he wasn’t quite sure how, he’d offended her during dinner tonight. He should apologize, but for what? Until he figured that out, he couldn’t call her. And until he called her, he couldn’t settle.