The CEO's Little Surprise (13 page)

“The formula, for one.
I was expecting you to tell me to go to hell when I called about Robbie. But you didn't.” He watched her closely but she refused to meet his all-knowing gaze.

She would never have told him that. He'd needed her. Maybe she should have told him to go to hell twenty times since then, but dang it, she'd wanted to believe in him. In them.

Yes
, it meant something that she'd come when he called. She'd been hanging around, thinking she'd hold on to her heart and dip one toe in, but really, she was pathetically, predictably wishing for him to fall in love with her. Just like last time.

But he'd given her no reason to trust him, no reason to believe that could ever happen. Becoming a father didn't automatically make Gage Branson someone he wasn't and that's why he wasn't suddenly spouting promises and pretty words.
Let's see how things go
was code for
I've found my Ms. Right-Now
. Until he got tired of her. Until something better came along. It was all fun and games until someone's heart got broken.

Or worse, until she found out exactly how good he was at keeping business and pleasure separate. A little thing like corporate espionage wasn't supposed to get between them while they were burning up the sheets.

Before she could argue the point, he skewered her with those gorgeous hazel eyes and she felt it all the way through her soul. He'd burrowed under her barriers, winding his way through her heart despite all her vows to refuse him entrance. At the end of the day, she was the problem here. Because against all odds, she
had
started to trust him in spite of it all. And she shouldn't have.

“You came when I needed you.” He held her gaze and wouldn't let go. “And we fell into something that I was hoping would continue. I meant it when I said I wasn't ready for it to end.”

The rawness in his voice sliced through her. She wanted to believe him. Believe
in
him. The past week had been so amazing and surprising and deep, and sex had only been a small part of that.

When had she lost her “it's only sex” mantra? When had this become a relationship and not just sticking to a man to learn his secrets?

Unfortunately, she could pinpoint it exactly. It had happened the moment she'd answered Gage's call and he'd said,
I need you
.

He'd ruined her for other men—Gage Branson was it for her. She realized that now.

And she had to know once and for all if she could trust him.

“Rebecca Moon,” she blurted out and his expression darkened so rapidly that the rag fell from her suddenly numb fingers.

“Yeah, what about her?”

“So you admit you know who she is?” Cass squawked.

“Of course I do. She used to work for me,” he acknowledged without a scrap of shame. “My company isn't so big that I've lost the ability to keep track of my people. Especially those who worked in Research and Development.”

“Used to work for you?” she prodded. “But not anymore?”

Gage stood, unfurling to his full height a good three inches above Cass. He crossed his arms, leaning a hip against the bar casually, but his frame vibrated with tension.

“Since I'm pretty sure we both know she works for Fyra now, it sounds like you're the one who has something you need to tell me.”

This was her opening. The other Fyra executives were counting on her to solve the company's problems and the last thing she wanted was for her team to accuse her of letting her feelings for Gage get in the way of justice. Alex, in particular, was already poised to lambast Cass. She had to pull this thread.

“I'm sure there's a rational explanation.” She resisted the urge to back away. “But Rebecca's in a lot of debt and maintains contact with people in your area. You can see how someone might think that's a suspicious combination. It just looks bad, Gage.”

“Bad how?” he asked softly. Lethally. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

The pressure of his accusatory expression pushed on her chest, stealing her ability to draw in air. He was going to make her spell this out. She swore. “Come on. You agreed to help me identify a probable suspect for the leak but have spent almost every second distracting me from that goal. Almost as if you wanted to steer me away from any evidence pointing to a name.”

Of course she was the dummy who'd fallen for it. Half of the fault lay with her.

“You seem to forget that I had an interest in finding the leak, as well. The formula is worthless otherwise.”

She waved it off. “Only if you don't have another way to get your hands on it.”

“Cass.” He huffed out a sigh of frustration. “We agreed you'd talk to the others about selling when we found the leak. We haven't yet. What other possible way would I get my hands on it?”

Did he think she was born yesterday? “Turnabout is fair play, right? That's what you said when you demanded I sell you the formula less than twenty-four hours after its existence was leaked to the industry. Tell me the timing is a coincidence.”

“It's a coincidence.” His knuckles went white as he contemplated her with clenched fists. “But you don't really think so, do you? You suspect that Rebecca's the leak and I'm pulling her strings like some kind of corporate raider puppet master. You think I've paid her to steal the formula.”

“Well...in a nutshell, yeah.” It didn't sound so concrete coming from Gage's mouth and she wavered. He didn't look guilty. He looked furious. “Are you denying it?”

“Hell, yes.” A muttered expletive accompanied the declaration. “Though why I have to is the real question here.”

Instantly, her hackles rose. Was he that out of touch? “Really? It's confusing to you why I might have a problem trusting you?”

Obviously, he didn't see anything wrong with being there for her and giving her a place to get away from all the pressures of life, being understanding and strong and wonderful...and then taking it away at a moment's notice. Like he had the first time. “You dumped me in college like yesterday's trash with
no
explanation
. I can't—”

She shouldn't have brought that up. Not now.

“No explanation?” He stared at her, his expression darkening. “Our relationship is one of my fondest memories, or I wouldn't have rekindled it. But it ended at the right time, once it had run its course. We talked about it. That's what I said.”

“Oh, you said that all right. But you might as well have said, ‘It's not you, it's me.' Either way, it's a lame line designed to brush off the person you're tired of.” All of this had been bottled up for far too long. It came rushing out—the formula and the baby and
let's see how it goes
all muddled together into a big emotional mess she couldn't control. “Surely you didn't think it was an actual reason.”

He'd broken her and she wasn't letting him do it again. Not personally. Not professionally.

“Wait just a minute.” He threw up a hand as if to ward off the barrage of words. “We had a lot of fun in college. But that's all it was—fun. Are you saying you expected an opportunity to talk me out of it when I said it was time to move on?”

“No,” she countered. “I expected that you'd figure out you loved me as much I loved you and ask me to marry you.”

She'd thrown up wall after wall to prevent a repeat of those feelings. Unsuccessfully. Because at the end of the day, that was still what she wanted.

And she knew now it was an impossible dream.

* * *

“Marriage?” The pattern of Cass's granite countertops blurred as Gage processed that bombshell on top of the Rebecca Moon accusation. “You wanted to get married? To
me
?”

Of all the things he'd thought about their time together, her in a white dress and diamond rings and...other together-forever stuff that he couldn't even fathom right now—none of that had ever crossed his mind. None of that had ever crossed his mind with
anyone
, let alone back in college when he'd just begun to spread his wings.

He'd vowed to himself, and to Nicolas, to have the quintessential college experience—drink a lot of beer, sleep with a lot of women, have a lot of esoteric conversations at coffee houses with foreign exchange students. No one got
married
in college.

He and Cass had totally different viewpoints on their history. How was he only discovering this now?
And
in the midst of a conversation where apparently, he was being accused of planting an employee at Cass's company. His temper simmered again, which was not a good sign. He never got angry. Mostly because he never had much of an emotional investment.

Looked as if he was going to experience yet another first with Cass.

“I guess this is news to you,” she said and her voice broke.

There were no tears, no hard lines around her mouth, but he could tell she was upset about their relationship ending.
Still
upset. The bitterness radiated from her and he caught it in the gut.

“Completely. Jeez, Cass. We were kids with our whole lives—our whole careers—ahead of us.”

But that wasn't true now. If that was what she'd wanted then, what had she wanted this time around? The same? While he was trying to reconcile and explore these new, unprecedented feelings she'd evoked, had she been waiting for a proposal? The thought put his chest into a deep freeze and none of the beating and breathing that should have been going on inside was working.

She crossed her arms over her abdomen as if to protect herself. From him. “So what's different this time that makes you say things like
let's see how it goes
? Am I suddenly more palatable now that I have power and money? Or is my allure strictly related to your bottom line?”

His anger mounted. How dare she accuse him of not only consorting with a former employee to steal from Fyra but then playing other angles, too. As though he'd faked his attraction and feelings for Cass strictly because of her formula?

“My offer to buy your formula is legitimate and legal. And I didn't bring up extending our affair because of it,” he told her truthfully.

Maybe the affair had started as a way to make sure the odds fell in his favor. But that had changed a long time ago. She had their relationship all wrong—the first one and the second one—and somehow he was the bad guy in all of this. As though she'd had expectations of him that he'd stomped all over and God forbid he be given a second chance.

“Then why?” she pushed, her expression darkening more with each passing second. “Why keep seeing each other? Why not end it like you always do?”

Because...he had all these feelings he didn't know what to do with. Because he liked being around her. Because he couldn't imagine saying goodbye.

But all at once, he couldn't spit that out. Heaviness weighed down his chest. If they didn't say goodbye, what then? He wasn't marriage material.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” she said derisively when he didn't answer her. “You haven't changed. You're another broken heart waiting to happen.”

Another
broken heart? Something snapped inside.

All this time... Cass had been in love with him. And he'd broken her heart because he'd ended their relationship, despite never making any promises. No wonder she'd been so frosty and uptight at first. Obviously, their past had colored her agenda and explained why he could never put his finger on what she was up to. Why he could never find his balance with her.

“Are you still in love with me?” he demanded.

She laughed but it sounded forced and hollow. “Boy, someone sure packed their industrial-sized ego for this trip down memory lane. What do you think?”

That cool exterior was a front, one she did better than he'd credited, but he knew the Cass underneath it. Very well.

Sarcasm meant he'd hit a nerve.

“I think you didn't deny it.” Eyes narrowed, he evaluated her.

Of course, that question would remain unanswered because, at the end of the day, she didn't trust him. And he was still angry about it. The unfounded accusations about Rebecca Moon still stuck in his craw and he was having a hard time getting them loose. “I guess I should have ended things. Especially if you're convinced I'm out to steal from you.”

“It doesn't matter,” she cut in swiftly. “We both know your interest in me starts and ends with my formula. So I'll make it easy for you. This...whatever it is...is over.”

So that was it? Because of how things had ended between them the first time, she chose to believe that he was involved in the leak and didn't have any intention of listening to him. She was operating under a decade-old hurt and refused to give him an opportunity to explore what he wanted this time. That was crap and he was calling her on it.

“What if I asked you to extend our relationship because I want to see what happens when we don't end things right away? It's totally unfair of you to say
adios
when I'm genuinely trying to figure this out. Almost as unfair as accusing me of being involved in the leak with literally no proof.”

She stared at him, her eyes huge and troubled. “Yeah, well turnabout is fair play, Gage. Spend the next decade thinking about
that
.”

Thirteen

G
age drove back to Austin, his mind a furious blur. Cass had found the ultimate way to get him back for breaking her heart—by accusing him of betraying her.

Turnabout is fair play.

If it had happened to anyone else, he'd have appreciated the irony.

As it was, his chest ached with unprocessed emotions. If it wasn't for the layer of mad, he might understand what had just happened. But he couldn't get the heaviness in his chest to ease or the anger to abate. She hadn't believed him when he said he wasn't involved. Because she didn't trust him.

In Cass's mind, he was guilty simply because he hadn't fallen to one knee and declared undying love. Stealing a competitor's secrets was apparently as much a crime to her as not proposing. It was ridiculous. He cared about Cass. Of course he did. Who suggested they keep seeing each other?
Gage.
Who had called Cass when he'd been at his absolute lowest? Still him. Didn't she get that he'd been falling for her all along and had kind of freaked out about it?

Obviously not.

He'd given as best as he knew how. And his best wasn't good enough.

Fine. That was the way it should be, anyway. Clearly this relationship business wasn't for him. But what if that meant he couldn't be a father either? What if he was completely flawed in some way?

Gage spent the remainder of the drive home nursing his wounds and then drowned them in a quarter of a bottle of Jack Daniel's. He tried to go to bed, where it smelled like Cass and everything good and hopeful in his life, and that was the breaking point.

He vaulted out of bed, scaring the bejesus out of Arwen, who was enjoying the rare treat of sleeping at Gage's feet. Head cocked at a curious angle, she watched him throw on jeans but elected to stay put when Gage stormed from the room.

Twisting open the whiskey again, he got started on what was probably a vain attempt to drink enough to forget the stricken look on Cass's face when she'd said
this is over
.

He'd hurt her. He got that. But it had happened a long time ago. This was all on her and her inability to forgive and forget. There was no reason for Gage to reevaluate anything, yet here he was, doing it anyway.

He groaned and let his head fall into his hands. Who was he kidding? He'd screwed up, too.

Whether it was fair, whether he'd made mistakes with Cass due to his unquenchable desire to best his competition, whether Robbie made his life unduly complicated—none of that mattered. He'd lost something precious and he missed her. Cass should be in his arms at this moment and she wasn't and it sucked.

Before he dissolved into an unmanly puddle of regret, he palmed his phone and flicked through pictures of Robbie. The boy's face was so reminiscent of Gage's brother, it was almost eerie. Genetics. That's all it was, not a message from beyond the grave.

He's going to be a handful.

Gage smiled. Yeah, his son was pretty great. What did Nicolas know about kids, anyway? It was a sobering thought. His brother had guided him for so long. Who would be the voice of his conscience now that Gage was moving toward something new and different?

You'll figure it out. After all, you already know what
not
to do.

He definitely knew that. Gage would raise Robbie with no boundaries. Carpe diem and full speed ahead, unlike how his own parents had raised him. If Robbie wanted to run with scissors, Gage would put plastic tips on the sharp ends and lead the way. If Robbie wanted to climb trees—or mountains—Gage would be behind him every step, ready to catch him when he fell.

He'd say yes to every “Hey, Dad, can I...?”

Mom and Dad didn't put restrictions on you to keep you from having fun.

Yeah, he knew that. They loved Gage, fiercely, even to this day, despite their disappointment that none of Gage's childhood limitations had resulted in a son who played it safe. He lived his life unapologetically, reveling in all the experiences Nicolas couldn't.

Like falling in love?

Gage drained the highball and flipped it over instead of refilling it like he wanted to. When his conscience came up with gems like that, it was time to lay off the sauce.

Except the thought wouldn't go away.

For his entire adult life, he'd avoided anything that smacked of permanence. Even with Cass, who made him feel alive and amazing and as though he wanted to be around her all the time. He couldn't just come out and commit. Why?

Because he feared losing someone who mattered—like his parents had. God, why hadn't he ever realized that? With Robbie, it had been easy. There hadn't even been a choice in his mind. But he had control over whether he committed to Cass and he'd exercised it by walking out the door instead of fighting for what he wanted.

You live life to the extreme but it costs you. You have no personal relationships. No one to lean on. What are you going to do when parenting gets hard?

Gage frowned. His parents were moving here. His mom would give him advice.

The same woman you just vowed not to emulate when raising your son? Good thinking. Besides, don't you want someone to be there for you who gets you? Who's your equal? Someone you can count on and vice versa?

“Shut up, already. I get it,” he muttered. “I messed up with Cass and instead of figuring out how to fix it, I'm sitting here arguing with a ghost.”

But was it even possible to fix it? Cass's frozen routine was a safeguard against
him
, after all. He'd started their relationship solely with the intent of leveraging their attraction to get his hands on her formula, and she was forcing him to reap what he'd sown. Which was no less than he deserved. The rift between them was as much his fault as hers.

He'd wanted something more and had been too chicken to lay it all on the line, disguising his thirst for Cass as a drive to beat the competition.

And by the way...if you've never done permanent, never been in love, never figured out how to sacrifice and be selfless, you know being a father will be that much harder.

His chest squeezed again. Nicolas was right. Gage's closest companions were Arwen and his conscience disguised as his long-gone brother. He had no idea how to do relationships. And he needed to. Gage couldn't be a good father if he flitted between commitment and freedom. He'd already realized that but now he knew how to fix it.

He had to learn how to stick. He
wanted
to. Cass and Robbie were both worth it.

Somehow, he had to prove to Cass that she could trust him this time. That he wasn't responsible for the leak.

He wanted Cassandra Claremont in his life, living it alongside him, giving him the ultimate experience he'd yet to have.

But as difficult as it was to admit, Gage had no basis for figuring out what it took to be a good partner or a good father. He'd never had a relationship before—with
anyone
, his family, a lover...what was different this time? What could he offer Cass to convince her to give him one last chance?

After a long night of tossing and turning, Gage sat up in bed as the perfect answer came to him.

Phillip Edgewood.

* * *

Cass frowned as she listened to the detective spout more rhetoric about how the investigation was ongoing, nothing concrete to report, blah, blah. She switched her phone to the other ear but the news didn't get any better.

At the end of the day, Rebecca Moon either wasn't the culprit or she had been very, very savvy about her movements over the past few weeks. Nothing pointed to the woman as the source of the leak, nothing pointed to a link between her and Gage, and Cass was tired of beating her head against this wall.

She was even more tired of missing Gage and wondering why she was beating her head against that wall, too. The man wasn't interested in a relationship—which she'd known from day one. She'd done everything in her power to keep her emotions out of it, trying to convince herself she was sticking to him like glue so she could keep tabs on him.

It hadn't worked. She'd fallen in love with him all over again thanks to those quiet moments when he was the man she longed for, who believed in her but didn't care if she wasn't strong and capable 24/7, who'd demonstrated his ability to commit to his son.

None of that mattered. She couldn't trust him and that meant they were through. Forever.

That hole in her heart? It was there for good.

It almost would have been better to find evidence that Gage had been the one whispering in Rebecca's ear. At least then Cass could hate him for being a sleaze. Instead, she'd had to cut ties because, after it was all said and done, he only cared about the formula. When she'd told Gage it was over, he hadn't argued. Because he knew he'd end things eventually, so why not now?

A knock on her open door dragged her attention away from the detective's disappointing phone call and the regret burning in her chest. Alex stood in the doorway. Cass waved in the CFO and held up one finger in the universal “give me a minute” gesture as she told the detective to keep digging.

Alex sauntered into her office, but Cass could tell this wasn't a friendly visit.

“We need to talk,” Alex said before Cass had even set the phone on her desk. “The prelim quarterly numbers are not looking good.”

Cass bit back the groan. When it rained, it poured. “And now you're going to tell me they're down due to the leak, right?”

The hard line of Alex's mouth didn't bode well. “I don't think we can directly pin it on that. But it's clear we've got a problem, and not having that breach buttoned up isn't helping.”

The accusation of fault hadn't been verbalized but it came through loud and clear. This was all on Cass and Alex wasn't pulling any punches. As the CEO, the buck stopped at Cass's chair and she should have found the leak's name long ago.

Helplessness welled up and nearly overflowed into her expression.

Push it back.
Her throat was already so raw from watching Gage walk out of her life that she hadn't thought it could get much worse. Turned out she was wrong.

“I'm working on it,” she said smoothly. Or what she thought would pass for smooth, but Alex scowled instead of lightening up.

“You've been saying that for weeks. I'm starting to wonder whether you've got a secret agenda you've failed to share with me.”

Oh, God.
She'd landed in turnabout hell. This was shaping up to be a redo of the conversation she'd had with Gage last week, except she was the one in the hot seat.

Being accused by
Alex
, who had been Cass's friend for years and years. They'd suffered through exams together in college, through Alex's man troubles, and of course, Cass's singular experience with Gage. Later, she and Alex had worked around the clock together, poring over financial statements for places to cut and bonding through the difficulties of starting a brand-new company.

Except Alex was in Cass's office in her capacity as one-quarter owner of that company. It was her right to call Cass onto the carpet. But she did not have the right to make this about something other than Cass's inability to do her job.

“I don't have a secret agenda. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Why are you always so dismissive of me?” Alex's unmanicured fingernails drummed against her leg in a restless pattern as she stared at Cass with a small frown. “I run this company alongside you, not beneath you.”

Confused, Cass shook her head slightly.

There was more here than a reproach about Cass's performance on the job. This was personal. She did not get the lack of trust and animosity wafting in her direction. It wasn't as though she'd done something horrible to her friend that would make all of this justified. Not like what Gage had done to Cass, for example.

“What are you talking about?” Cass asked. “I'm not dismissing you. I—”

A brisk knock at the door cut off the rest and Cass glanced up sharply to see Melinda, Fyra's receptionist, hovering in the hall outside her office, practically wringing her hands.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Melinda's eyes were so wide, it was a wonder they didn't fall out of her head. “But not really. You've got a visitor and, well, he's not the kind of person you make wait around. Besides, I'm afraid he's disrupted the entire office and I thought—”

“Who's the visitor?” Cass asked as patiently as possible.

The timing was the worst and whoever it was could wait. She wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on with Alex, once and for all.

“Phillip Edgewood,” Melinda blurted out. There might have even been swooning. “
The
Phillip Edgewood. The
senator
,” she stage-whispered in case Alex and Cass lived under a rock and might not know the popular United States senator. “He's even dreamier in person than he is on TV. Oh, and Mr. Branson is with him.”

Cass stood so fast, her chair shot across the low-pile carpet and crashed into the wall. “You could have told me that first. Send him back right away.”

A compact. There was a compact around here somewhere. Pulse thundering, Cass fished blindly through her desk drawer, fingers closing around three lipstick tubes, a bottle of Fyrago perfume and then a foundation brush before she finally located the powder case. She flicked it open and used the mirror to slick on a fresh layer of lipstick, which predictably went on crooked because of how badly her hand was shaking.

Gage was here.
In this building. He'd come to apologize, to throw himself at her feet. To declare his undying love...

Now
she
was the one being ridiculous. Her heart deflated. Gage wouldn't have shown up after a week of radio silence with a US Senator in tow if he was here to step back into her life. He was here about the formula.