Hot Water (14 page)

Did Jacinta catch that? Because she turns to me and winks, then whispers, “Valuable
experience
.”

I want to kick her under the table, but instead I just smile.

When we come back to the intern cubicles, Charlotte and Violet are waiting for us. “So, what’s the news?” Violet asks.

“We don’t get paid,” Dax mutters. “No, wait. We get paid with valuable
experience
.”

Charlotte says, “I’ll go if you don’t want to.”

Dax says, “And the executives ride first class while the peasants ride coach. I bet they make us carry their luggage, too. It will be fantastic.”

Charlotte says, “Like I said, I’ll go--”

“I can’t believe we’re stuck here,” Violet wails. Then she turns to me. “You must have set Mr. Williams’ world afire. You’ve only been here two weeks.”

I shrug. “I’m handling that presentation for him, so I guess he wants me there to make any last-minute changes.”

“What else are you handling for him?” Jacinta quips, and then winks at me.

I know that she suspects something more happened between us than just an innocent limo ride. I can tell by the look in her eye. But she’s always cracking sex jokes, so I just laugh like it’s another one of them. And what difference does it make, anyway? Even though I had once made out with Caden, nothing more will happen between us. It’s over.

On the way home, my mother tells me she is proud of me as we walk to our apartment after our stop on NJ Transit. She’s never been into my surfing, since it brings back too many sordid memories of my dad, so I think it is the first time she has ever been proud of me, for anything. “Really?” I say, shocked.

“Yes, honey. You’re doing well. Caden Williams tells me you have been fantastic with pulling everything together for him. A real lifesaver.”

I cringe at the thought of Caden discussing
anything
with my mother.

“You earned this trip. But you don’t seem excited,” she notes. “Are you nervous about travelling?”

“No,” I answer honestly. I can’t tell her what has me most nervous, so I say, “I’m nervous about what’s expected of me.”

“Oh. Well. The Williams crew will take good care of you. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s a great experience. It will give you a lot of insight into how a real trade show works.”

I wonder what my mother would say if she knew exactly what kind of experience her boss was giving me in his BMW.

Mom and I don’t own a car. We live right across from the train station in downtown Metuchen, and with shopping nearby, we never really needed one. Money has always been tight with us, so we didn’t need the additional expense. Our apartment complex is only a few years old, though the apartment we share is smaller than my dad’s bungalow at the shore. My mother has always managed to make sure I didn’t really want for anything, but then again, I’ve never wanted very much. She’s lucky I was never much of a princess. I grew up more of a tomboy, preferring ponytails and jeans to expensive salon visits and high fashion. In fact, springing for my Brazilian wax and mani/pedi was about the most money I’d spent all year. My dad supplies his old surfboards, so even my hobby has never been very expensive.

 We climb the stairs to the apartment, and immediately notice a large package waiting outside. My mother stoops to pick it up, then hands it to me. “It’s for you.”

I stare at it. There’s no return address.

“Early birthday present?” my mom asks.

I shrug. When we’re inside the apartment, I take the package into my room and slip it open, then stare at the contents with amazement. There is a beautiful, professional grey silk dress, with a plunging neckline and flutter sleeves. Before I can theorize who sent it, I look at the tag. Chanel. I might not know fashion, but I for damn sure know Chanel is not a budget brand. It’s obvious from the feel of the fabric, so light and airy, yet well-tailored.

And then I know. Before I can even open the small card that’s been placed inside. I pluck it out of the tiny envelope and read:

I told you that you would be well-rewarded.

I suck in a breath.

Because I know there is a line between business and private, and Caden likes to keep them separate. But this . . . inviting me on the Vegas trip, buying me clothes . . . feels very much like crossing that line. Not much, just dipping a toe across the other side to see how it feels. I also know that he is not the type of person who would even come remotely close to that line, if he knew I was only eighteen.

I need to tell him that. I need to stop this.

Because him stepping over that line doesn’t feel so much like a fantasy anymore. It feels . . . possible. And telling him means he will retreat behind that border and never look at me again. I don’t think I can take that. And something tells me that reality with him will be far more mind-blowing than any dream I could possibly have.

Damn him for being so irresistible.

 Chapter Fifteen

Cicily

The day of the trip, I’m a bundle of nerves. I’ve never gone anywhere before that’s this far away, and I’m terrified I might do something stupid, like somehow end up on a plane to India. On the train to New York, my mother calms me by putting a hand over my shaking one. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried I forgot something.”

“Anything you don’t have, you can just buy in Vegas,” she reassures me. “It’s not a third-world country.”

I nod.

“That’s a lovely dress. Did you just buy it?” she asks, touching the sleeve.

I’d thought about this for a while. Maybe I shouldn’t have anything to hide. I did work, and Caden bought me a dress as payment. There’s nothing technically inappropriate about that. But somehow, it just feels like a secret, meant to be between Caden and me. So I just say, “Yes. Thanks.”

I leave my mother at Penn Station to take a taxi to LaGuardia. The airport is like this gateway to another dimension. All the people are running about, oblivious to me, with places to go, much like on the city streets. Tentatively, I follow along, and make my way through the lines. After I check in and go through security, I’m thrilled to see Jacinta and Dax outside the gate, waiting for me. Jacinta is practically jumping off the wall. She’s wearing a short pink dress that shows off most of her long legs and is completely unprofessional, like she’s ready to go on an island vacation. I think it’s funny that Dax can’t take his eyes off her.

“Where are the executives?” I ask nervously, scanning the airport for Caden.

“The Executive Club, of course,” Dax answers. “They’ll be sloshed by the time the airplane takes off.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Why?” Jacinta says innocently. “Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

I punch her, and she just laughs.

When the plane starts to board, the executives are still nowhere in sight. I wonder if they’ll be so drunk they’ll forget to board. We walk down the aisle and I say, “I hope they don’t miss the flight.”

Jacinta winks. “They won’t.”

We have seats together. As we’re trying to determine who will sit where, I feel a tap on my back.

It’s Caden. I suck in a breath when I see him. I guess I always do that, but he’s so amazing-looking, easily the best looking executive on a plane full of men in three-piece suits. He’s unshaven and his hair is falling in his face, over those sexy dark eyes, which are focused on me. He doesn’t say hi, doesn’t engage in any pleasantries, and his gruff voice makes him sexier yet. “Change in plans. One of our executives has to stay behind for unexpected business. We have an extra seat in Business Class. Miss Chase, would you like it?”

I glance at Jacinta and Dax, catching Jacinta’s sly smile. She leans over and whispers something to Dax, something small like, “of course,” and he grins too. It’s obvious there’s some secret there, but I’m not sure what. Then they both wave at me. “Have fun!” they say.

I move to the front of the plane, with the big, plush leather seats and extra leg-room, and wouldn’t you know it? The available seat is next to Caden.
Had he planned this
? I wonder as he removes his suit jacket and hands it to the attendant. “Would you like the window seat, or aisle?” he asks, very gentlemanly.

“Window,” I say quickly. I noticed how everyone in coach seemed to want the aisle. But this is my first trip in an airplane, and I’ve only imagined how the world must look like from the sky. I know, that might make me look immature and babyish to someone like Caden, who has flown countless times, but I don’t care.

I squeeze into the seat. He sits back next to me, gets out his iPhone, and turns it to Airplane mode. “Thank you, sir,” I say.

He smiles. “You can cut the sir stuff.”

“Okay, Mr. Williams.”

“Caden. Just call me Caden,” he laughs. Then he says, “Been to Vegas before?”

“No. I’m a little nervous.”

“They don’t have surfing. But they have other things.”

“Like what?”

“Restaurants. Shows. Gambling. Shopping.”

“Snore.”

He laughs. “Not your thing? Sorry. Wait. You don’t like shopping? But you’re a woman.”

A woman
. I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that. “I really don’t. Not unless it’s for bathing suits and surfboards.”

“Ah. So it all comes back to surfing,” he sighs.

“You say that like someone who doesn’t like the beach.”

He shrugs and makes a face. “All that sand, getting everywhere. I prefer winter sports.”

I make the same face, mirroring him. “Ugh. I
hate
the cold. All that snow.”

He laughs. “Well, then that’s one thing you’ll like about Vegas. Ange really loves Vegas. Not as much as Paris, but she gives it her seal of approval.”

“She does?”

“Yeah. She’s into the best of everything. Fancy restaurants. Shopping at all the best stores. She likes to give her credit cards a good workout.”

“Oh,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. I’m so unlike her. I bet I’m just a big joke to him. Good for one night of fun, but nothing else. Andrea’s worldly and sophisticated, and I’m a teenage surfer who has never lived anywhere but at home.

“That’s what I like about you,” he continues, leaning forward. Dax was right—he must have been drinking, because I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “You don’t need all that shit.”

I don’t bother to explain that I never had the option of
having
all that shit, because I’m too startled by the compliment. He . . .
likes
something about me, other than my mad PowerPoint skills? All this time, it’s been indifference, at best. I search his face for some irony, but there is none. He rubs his chin, which is covered in sexy stubble. He’s so beautiful, with his dark eyelashes and just a bit of a tan starting. I find myself gazing at him, at those full lips of his, wanting to kiss them. Suddenly I’m aware the blood is rushing to all the places it shouldn’t, which is not good considering we have a five-hour flight ahead of us.

The attendant asks if we want anything to drink. He asks for a scotch. I ask for a Coke. As we’re waiting, he picks up a cocktail napkin, then pulls a pen out of his shirt pocket and begins to doodle on it.

“You really like scotch,” I say, looking at his drink.

“That I do.”

“Can I taste?”

He breaks into a grin. “You’ve never had it?”

When I shake my head, he hands me the glass. I take a small taste. It’s not anything to write home about. In fact, it’s kind of gross. “You
like
this?”

He nods. “Well, not this particular brand. I usually go for Aberlour a’ bunadh.”

“Is that a beverage or a disease?”

He laughs. “I’ll buy you one when we get to Vegas.”

“I don’t drink anything I can’t spell.”

He shrugs. “Well, that’s a shame. You’re missing out.”

His voice has a playful little lilt in it, and for the first time I feel the need to pinch myself.
Is he flirting with me
? I mean, first the dress, then the trip, and now this . . . “I meant to thank you. For the dress.”

He looks at me, his eyes dropping to the plunging neckline of my dress. “You look stunning.”

Okay, there’s
no way
he wasn’t just checking me out, there. I may have brought his attention to the dress, but his eyes lingered on my cleavage for too long. I feel myself blushing, remembering when we were back in the limo the first time and he’d called me
scorching hot
. I’d often wondered if he meant that, or if that was something he’d just said to get in my pants. This time, there is no irony in his voice. “How did you know my size?” I ask.

He grins and hitches a shoulder.

“You’ve bought wardrobes for many women?”

“You’re the first, actually. But let me just say that I’m an ardent study and admirer of the female form. It is of the utmost interest to me.” He smirks.

“What a noble endeavor,” I remark, hardly daring to believe this is happening. Maybe it’s just the alcohol speaking, but there’s no doubt that he’s flirting with me.

The plane begins to taxi down the runway, getting ready to take off. My eyes are glued to the window as we begin to take-off. The feeling is so exhilarating, but terrifying. I dig my hands into the arm-rest and Caden has to steady my drink.

“You don’t like flying?” he asks me.

But I’m not looking at him. My eyes are fastened on the world below us, outside the window, what until now, has been my world in perfect miniature. “I think I love it,” I whisper. “Do you like it?”

He shrugs. “I did. My older brother was killed in a plane crash when he was twenty-eight, though.”

I swallow, dig my fingers into the armrests a little more. “Really?”

“Relax,” he says, placing a hand over mine. It’s warm and pleasant on my ice-cold skin, and he’s never done anything like this in public since he found out I was working for him. Never touched me. He seems to realize the inappropriateness of this and pulls away after a second, much to my dismay. “It was a prop plane. My brother was pilot. He got caught in some weather. Don’t worry.”

“If you say so.”