Not What It Seems (Escape to Alaska Trilogy) (20 page)

Visions of the evening she spent with Clayton flashed across her mind. She grimaced with the memory of swimming naked with him in the pool, making love in his enormous bed, and spending the next day in companionable domesticity with him. He’d fooled her completely. And then he’d never asked her for a second date.

“Oh, I could strangle that man with my bare hands!” She climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

She’d never forgive Clayton for his duplicity. He’d been lying to everyone in town for the past three years. But he had the gall to call her dishonest when he’d discovered her little white lies.

“How dare he?” Cassidy stomped up the wooden steps, crossed the veranda to the front door, and leaned on the doorbell repeatedly.

No one answered her summons.

Clayton’s Porsche stood where he’d parked it the evening of their date. He had to be at home.

Cassidy’s hand fisted and she pounded on the front door. “Open up this door, Clayton! I know your sorry ass is in there. Open up!”

No one answered the door.

Unless you were dead, you would have heard her pounding on the door and ringing the doorbell. The fool just intended to ignore her, she decided.

“I’m not leaving, so you might as well open this damn door and face the music, buster!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

She pulled her foot back to kick the door when it suddenly swung open. Cassidy gasped. Clayton stood before her, dripping wet, wearing nothing but a frown and a white cotton bath sheet. It suddenly dawned on her that probably he’d been skinny dipping in the pool. And that he probably had nothing on underneath that towel.

“What the hell do you want?” he growled. “If you’re here to beg for your job back, forget it. You can just turn your little behind around and leave!”

“”Not on your sorry life, mister!” shouted Cassidy, raising both hands and shoving his bare chest, pushing him back out of the way. She strode into his home, tossed her purse on the entryway table, and rounded on him. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out. And you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Clayton closed the front door and cocked one eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Mr. Edwards, that’s so!” Cassidy stood, hands on hips, glaring daggers at him.

Clayton paled and a shocked expression appeared on his face.

“Yes, Mr. Clayton Edwards, millionaire from Seattle with a degree in finance, I’ve done a little investigating of my own.

Clayton glared at her, speechless.

“I’ve also learned that you aren’t house-sitting for some guy in Texas. Oh, no, no, no. You own this bloody house! And you also own Gold Diggers, Precious Gems, and Endless Nights.” Cassidy took a breath. “You own that Porsche parked outside. And God knows what else you own.”

Cassidy headed into the living room, paced like a caged tiger in front of the gas fireplace. “I bet you were just laughing your head off after I left here. Fooled me completely. Every tall tale about...”

“You have no idea what it’s like,” interjected Clayton, adjusting the towel which almost slipped off his hips.

“Oh, really?” Cassidy halted in front of him. “I guess you’re right. And thank goodness for that. Yeah, I don’t know what it’s like to be filthy rich. And I also don’t know what it’s like to lie about my identity to an entire city. To lead all of your friends and co-workers on for years. And why?

She didn’t grant Clayton the time to reply, just charged verbally onward.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, mister! Patricia’s expression spoke volumes about how hurt she felt that you hadn’t confided in her that you were the guy who owns her restaurant. And Sherry almost passed out from shock when she learned you own Gold Diggers.” She shook her head. “Wait until your buddy Terry hears about...”

“Terry knows who I am. We grew up together in Seattle.” Clayton dragged his hand through his hair. “He’s the one person in Anchorage who does know my true identity.”

“Terry knows?” Cassidy gaped. “But he kept your secret? Why?”

“Because he knows the reason I did it.”

“Do you care to enlighten me?” Cassidy stared him down.

Clayton remained silent.

“Right. Only the privileged few, or should I say the privileged one, shares your closely guarded secrets.”

“All my life, people have befriended me because of my money. In college, I was invited to every single party because the host knew I’d show up with a generous amount of booze and pizza. It was simply expected of me because everyone knew I had the funds. But the final straw that did it...I got taken big time by the gold digging bitch I was engaged to in Seattle a few years ago.” Clayton stormed across the floor and called over his shoulder, “I’m getting dressed. You can see yourself out.”

Cassidy watched him leave the room and then she flopped onto the sofa. She leaned forward and cradled her head in her hands. She recalled the recent discussion in the kitchen with Sherry and Patricia when she’d enlightened them about Clayton’s true identity. One of the girls had suggested Clayton might have been hurt by some woman. What Clayton just shared with her, proved they were right. That’s exactly what had happened.

Could she blame Clayton for going underground, so to speak? For attempting to protect his bank account, but more importantly, protect his heart from another gold digger? If she had faced a similar situation, would she not have been tempted to do the same?

Probably, she had to admit.

But where did that leave her and Clayton?

His admission explained so many things. Especially why he’d hidden his identity. But it didn’t lessen his unforgivable treatment of her when he’d discovered her white lies. Now, she could better understand his feeling of betrayal. But to call her dishonest was taking matters too far. And she couldn’t forgive him for it.

A few minutes later, Clayton padded back into the living room on bare feet. He’d donned a pair of black jeans and a white collared golf shirt. When he spotted her sitting on the sofa, a frown appeared on his face. “What are you still doing here?” he spat.

“I’ve been thinking about your admission. About the woman who took you for a monetary ride and no doubt stomped all over your heart along the way.” Cassidy sighed. “I understand how you’d interpret my white lies as a deception, a betrayal of trust. But I cannot get past your accusation that I was dishonest with you.”

“Really?”

“Dishonest conjures up thoughts of monetary theft to me. Embezzlement, bank robbery, hell, even purse snatching a senior’s pension funds is an act of dishonesty. Disguising your identity without unlawful intent does not even come close. Do you consider yourself dishonest for keeping your true identity a closely guarded secret?

“No. I simply did business under another name...”

“Yeah? Well, I simply worked under another name, even though accounting knew my true identity. I’ll pay taxes on my earnings, and I’ll...”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“You can’t have it both ways, buster!” Cassidy leapt off the sofa. “You were as dishonest with people as I was. Even more so. I wasn’t operating a business, or four actually. I wasn’t mentoring a small child for a non-profit organization. How’s Reggie going to feel when this all comes out and he has to start calling you Mr. Edwards?”

“He calls me Clayton.”

“You know what I mean. I strongly doubt your business colleagues are going to easily forgive you. Hell, does you banker even know who you are?”

“Yes, my damn banker knows me. But with the amount of funds I have on deposit, he gladly keeps my identity a secret.” Clayton glared at her.

“Well, I hope you haven’t done irreparable damage to your professional reputation in this city. Because I’d bet anything, your friends and co-workers won’t be very forgiving.”

Just then the doorbell rang.

The door opened and a male voice shouted, “It’s just me. You ready to go?” And then Terry strode into the living room. The second he spotted Cassidy he stopped in his tracks. “Hi Cass.”

“Hello, Terry.”

“Did I interrupt something?”

“No, Ms. Donahue was just leaving.” Clayton dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Cassidy saw red. “That’s it? We’re not going to discuss this in a level-headed, reasonable manner? You’re just dismissing me like one of your staff?”

“I can leave if you guys need some time to...”

“No!” shouted Clayton. “She’s leaving. I’ve nothing more to say to her.”

Cassidy watched him walk out of the living room, heading in the direction of the kitchen. “Then, I have nothing more to say to you either!” she shouted at his departing back. She strode across the floor, grabbed her purse, and slammed the door on her way out.

*

Clayton looked up from the sandwich he was preparing when his best friend strolled into the kitchen.

“She left,” offered Terry.

“I heard. When she slammed the door, the damn windows rattled.”

“She should have rattled your stupid head instead. Maybe she would have shaken something loose and started your thinking processes. You’re just going to let her walk out of your house and probably walk out of your life forever at the same time?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a first class idiot. You know that, don’t you?”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.” Clayton bit into the ham and cheese masterpiece he’d created. “If you want one of these, fix it yourself.”

Terry sniffed at his friend’s suggestion. “Thank you. You’re such a gracious host.”

“I’ll share my food. I’ll share my beer. I’ll even head into town and work out with you at Phil’s gym like we planned. But I’m not listening to another word concerning Cassidy Donahue. Not now, not ever.

“That, my friend, is where you’re totally wrong.” Terry grabbed a couple slices of whole grain bread and then met Clayton’s eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

Chapter 19

Sherry had become Cassidy’s first friend upon her moving to Anchorage, and being the last person to say goodbye seemed fitting. While Sherry drove her to the airport, Cassidy stewed in the passenger seat. Sherry warned her, in no uncertain terms, that she intended to wait until her flight to Hawaii lifted off. Or at least, wait long enough to talk some sense into her.

That wasn’t going to happen. After speaking with Clayton, it had become crystal clear in her mind. It was over. Her job. Any possibility of a relationship with Clayton. Everything. And she’d decided to leave town and start fresh, again. She’d settled on somewhere hot this time. And recalling the wonderful Christmases she’d enjoyed with her family in Hawaii, she purchased a one-way ticket to Maui.

“When do you board?” Sherry settled into a chair in a connected row of padded seating and sipped a Starbucks latte.

Cassidy checked her Rolex. She’d forgone wearing her favorite timepiece while working as a waitress, but no more. “In about forty minutes.”

“Forty minutes should be sufficient time to badger you until you see reason.”

“Enough.” Cassidy sipped from the spout on her Starbucks take-out cup. “Too much has happened to change anything now.”

“Never too late to change your mind about turning your back on something you truly desire.”

“Precisely my point: there’s nothing Clayton or I desire from each other. All the duplicity and distrust shattered any hopes of a relationship between us. He doesn’t desire me, certainly doesn’t love me.” Cassidy sipped her coffee, fighting back tears. “He certainly made his opinion of me clear when I talked to him at his house.”

“Clayton’s blood boiled every time Randy dated you. Clayton is absolutely head over heels in love with you, whether he admits it to himself or not.” Sherry shifted on her seat, faced Cassidy.

“Mere jealousy, not love. And Clayton isn’t without fault here.”

“So his brother-in-law investigated you, discovered the truth. You were guilty of every single deception he accused you of.” Sherry crossed her legs and leaned back in the seat.

“And that’s all they were, deceptions. Unless a crime is committed in the course of the deception, then where’s the harm? It’s a simple ruse, a prank, no more serious than a practical joke. I didn’t scam anyone for money, or pull a hurtful hoax on anybody. Clearly, Clayton over-reacted, and I’m well rid of him.” Cassidy blinked her tears away, hoping Sherry didn’t notice. Hopefully, the catch she heard in her voice wouldn’t give her away. She didn’t believe a word of what she was spouting, but Sherry didn’t need to know that.

“You don’t mean that.”

Cassidy look away. Sherry was too perceptive for Cassidy’s own good. “I’ve no intention of pursuing a relationship with Clayton Edwards.” Cassidy heard the lack of conviction in her own voice.

“He’s perfect for you.” Sherry continued her argument, relentlessly. “I’ve caught you watching him when no one’s looking; you’re mesmerized by the man. You’re both just a little gun shy.”

“Not necessarily. I recall a few anger-filled occasions when I could have shot him.” Cassidy attempted to smile at her joke, but failed miserably.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Arguments and disagreements are part of any relationship. Mother swore although she could have shot father a few times during their marriage, she never once considered divorcing him,” said Sherry.

“Such a ringing endorsement for marriage.” Cassidy contemplated her friend’s words. At least Sherry’s parents displayed enough emotion to consider killing each other on occasion. Cassidy’s parents demonstrated a proper and polite demeanor in public and at home. She hoped they shared an enduring love for each other, and weren’t together out of nothing more than habit.

“There’s one thing you should consider.” Sherry stood, walked their empty coffee cups to the garbage receptacle and tossed them in.

“One thing?”

“Promise to give this serious consideration.” Sherry returned to her seat beside Cassidy.

“Okay, I promise.”

“Will you truly win by getting the last word? What do you win by sticking to your convictions, if you lose the love of a good man? Are you willing to pass up “Mr. Right” in order to prove that “you’re right”?”