Fiancé for the Night: Chapter Three

Fiancé for the Night: Chapter Three

That night, Troy had trouble falling asleep. Thoughts of the dinner, particularly his fake fiancée, bounced around his head like Ping-Pong balls. When he could finally relax, dreams of chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and Cassie took over. Sweet dreams that morphed their way into sexier ones. She might be his opposite, but he hadn’t wanted to wake up and didn’t.

Except sleeping through his alarm meant he overslept and was late.

Not a few minutes late, either. An

hour

.

Troy bolted out of bed and into the shower. Less than ten minutes later, he ran to catch the Marina Express, bus number 30X.

He didn’t need to clock in, but he tried to get to the office early. The quiet meant he could get more work done before coworkers arrived and phones rang. He also liked being hard at work when the partners showed up. Troy had never been late.

Until today.

As soon as he walked into the office, his boss, Mick, met him at his desk and gave him a once-over. “Late night, Troy?”

“I—” Troy struggled for what to say without mentioning his dinner with the Daniels family. “I had trouble sleeping last night, and I slept in.”

Not exactly a lie. Thoughts about Cassie had kept him awake, and then dreams about her made him wish he could hibernate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mick said with a Cheshire cat smile. “Why don’t you come into my office?”

Huh? “Sure.”

Troy set his laptop bag on his chair. He couldn’t imagine being called into Mick’s office for arriving an hour late. Besides, Mick had a smile on his face. Something was up, but what?

As Troy followed his boss, an intern shot him a sympathetic smile. Another person snickered, but Troy couldn’t tell who.

No worries. Mick was a fair man who demanded and rewarded hard work. He had a temper, though, and rarely took employees into his office unless to chastise them. He believed in airing grievances in private, away from the watchful eyes and ears of coworkers.

Mick’s assistant gave him the thumbs-up sign. Must not be too bad if Della was so relaxed.

Inside the office, Troy glanced around. A photo of Mick’s gorgeous wife and another of his midnight-blue BMW convertible hung on the wall. At thirty-seven, Mick was the definition of success. Troy wanted what his boss had—his own fund, a chrome-and-glass decorated corner office, a view of the Golden Gate Bridge, a luxurious car, and a wife who looked like a

Sports Illustrated

swimsuit model.

If Troy stuck to his plan, he’d have it all, too. He was on his way. Two days on the job had told him that appearances were everything, so he’d splurged on new clothes to look the part of a successful venture capitalist. Designer suits were more important than a new vehicle or fancy apartment. His old truck, which no one at work ever saw, and a studio apartment in one of the desirable neighborhoods were fine for now.

Mick motioned to a black leather chair. “Have a seat.”

Troy sat.

Mick leaned against the edge of his desk. “Anything new?”

Start on a good note.

Mick didn’t mind bragging if one could back up the bravado. “The Micro-Psi deal should close by Friday.”

“Excellent.” Mick rolled his shoulders as though he were trying to relax his muscles. “Anything else?”

“I—”

“I got an interesting phone call this morning,” Mick interrupted. “From Dixon Daniels.”

Uh-oh.

“He wanted to talk about you,” Mick said nonchalantly.

Troy’s stomach clenched.

“He asked all sorts of interesting questions.” Mick’s gaze bored into him. A vein on the side of his neck throbbed. The cutthroat negotiator, as competitors often called him, broke through Mick’s seemingly laid-back manner.

“Man to man, Troy,” Mick said in a serious tone with one black eyebrow cocked. “What’s going on with Dixon?”

I met a woman last night and agreed to be her fiancé, not knowing her father was Dixon Daniels.

Nope.

Mick wouldn’t understand. Over the past three years, Troy had learned one thing about his boss—outside of investing in startups, Mick never took risks.

“Nothing.” Somehow, Troy kept his voice steady.

Mick took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “People are always looking for better opportunities, but I thought you were happy here.”

Troy rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I—”

“You told me you were ready for additional responsibilities and a raise, and I’ve been slow in responding. What if I increased your annual bonus by twenty percent?”

Twenty percent! Troy forced himself to stay still. A quick calculation told him he could help his parents replace their roof and get another suit. Any leftover money could go to paying down his student loans. He held in a smile. “It’s a start.”

“Daniels is a good man, but we have an excellent group here. You’re a key player on our team.” Mick cracked his knuckles. “We’re starting a new fund early next year. I mentioned a possible partnership when I hired you. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Partnership? Wow.

Troy forced himself not to say yes right away, even though he would sell his soul for a partnership in the new fund. That had been his goal since he started working here. He took a breath and then exhaled slowly. “I’d be interested.”

“I need to talk to the other partners. This is an involved process.”

“I understand.” Troy wished he could high-five his boss, but he maintained his calm. His mind reeled with the possibility of being named a partner, but one nagging thought intruded into his excitement. “I need to ask you one thing, Mick.”

“Ask away.”

“Are you offering me this because Dixon Daniels called or because I deserve the partnership?”

“Excellent question.” Mick grinned. “What do you think?”

Since starting at Scorpio, Troy had worked nonstop, making solid deals and big profits for the company. He’d taken vacation days only when his family needed his help back on the farm. Not once had he called in sick. “Because I deserve it.”

“You deserve it, Troy.” Mick spoke with conviction. “Let’s say Dixon gave me a kick in the ass to take action.”

“Thanks.”

Mick stood. “You stay with us, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Yes. Troy rose, unable to believe he would be ahead of schedule with his plan if he were named a partner—a year ahead to be exact. He didn’t say anything in affirmative, only nodded. “Thanks.”

Mick patted Troy’s shoulder. “Saying no to Dixon will be difficult. Don’t let his easy smile fool you. He’s as tough as they come.”

“I can handle him.” At this moment, Troy believed he could. Soaring out the window on the forty-seventh floor and flying seemed possible because his dreams were going to come true.

“I’m sure you can.” Mick opened the door. “See if you can get Dixon interested in one of our deals. That would be a coup. Something no partner has been able to do.”

Troy doubted he’d be able to either, but he might as well play along. “You never know.”

“Good attitude.” Mick’s smile widened. “Have an excellent day.”

“I will.”

A well-deserved increase in his yearly bonus and a partnership within his reach. Troy almost floated to his desk. He thought about his master plan, the one he’d followed since deciding to go to business school and make something out of himself. Well, more than working the land like his dad and grandfather. He sat.

He was on his way to achieving all he’d planned, but…

He’d taken the job with Mick fresh out of business school and never considered changing companies. Troy figured hard work and loyalty would earn him high marks and greater rewards. After the close of the MagiWare deal, he’d assumed he would be offered a partnership.

He hadn’t been.

Nothing had been mentioned until today.

Thanks to the catalyst of Dixon Daniels.

Troy slumped in his chair. The help made him uncomfortable. He was willing to do what it took to get what he deserved, but…

How long would Mick have taken to act without the call from Dixon?

Maybe Troy needed to re-examine his plan. If he’d stuck to it and not taken a risk, he would have never agreed to pose as Cassie’s fiancé.

Cassie.

The not-his-type charmer.

She reminded him a little of his college girlfriend, the one who would have never fit into the life he’d wanted. He’d broken up with her even though he’d known she’d been expecting a proposal after two years of dating. That had been the right move. He’d known that then and now.

These days, he was attracted to women with classic style, tailored clothes, subdued jewelry, and impeccable makeup. Cassie Daniels created her own style. One that would never be called classic.

Still, his lips curved into a smile.

For a perfect stranger, she’d had a significant impact on his life in less than what? It had only been fourteen hours since she’d approached him at the brewpub. She was also giving him something else—a weekend with Dixon Daniels. How many V.C. associates got the opportunity to spend time with a legend?

Yeah, Troy’s leap into a mini-adventure last night had turned out way better than expected. He was also flattered she’d picked him over the other men in the bar.

Had he been her first choice?

He didn’t know, and he wondered why the thought bothered him. He shouldn’t complain given his conversation with Mick.

Troy wanted to thank her. They were supposed to talk tomorrow to make plans for Friday’s drive to Carmel, but her father’s call today justified one of his own to her today. He pulled out his cell phone and clicked on her number.

On the fourth ring, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded husky.

“Hi, it’s Troy.”

“Troy who?”

A blonde moment, or had he woken her? She could have been asleep. “Troy McKnight, your fiancé.”

“Oh, that Troy,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m still in bed.”

In bed?

Oh, and I sleep in the nude.

Their conversation in the cab rushed back. Troy imagined her naked body between eight-hundred-thread-count sheets. The feel of her soft skin, the scent of her…

What was he thinking?

Cassie was a Roman candle about to burn his hand.

Focus.

“I’m sorry I called so early,” he said.

“No problem.”

Not for her, at least.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern.

“Yes. Cassie?”

“It’s Cassandra, but go on.”

She would always be Cassie to him. “Your dad called my work this morning.”

“Why?” The word shot out of her mouth. She sounded alarmed and more awake.

“Dixon had questions for my boss, Mick.”

Troy could picture her biting her lower lip. She’d done that last night.

“What questions?” she asked.

“Mick didn’t say, but he increased my annual bonus and talked about making me a partner.”

“I’m sure my father had nothing to do with it. I can tell you’re a hard worker and earned whatever promotion you receive.”

Troy laughed at the way she tried to justify his good fortune. “I do deserve it, but your father made Mick realize I have other options. He made me realize that, too. I have you to thank. Our, um, engagement is helping me.”

And could help him further. Who knew what pearls of wisdom he could pick up from Dixon Daniels over the weekend? This was looking better and better.

“You’re not angry?” she asked.

Troy picked up a pen. “No.”

“I thought after the gas-money thing—”

“This is different.” He twirled the pen with his fingers. “Maybe I should be angry, but I’m happy.”

“You deserve to be happy, Troy,” she said. “You’ll have to go out and celebrate tonight.”

Celebrate? If he went out with the guys, he’d only end up with a hangover the next morning. And what guys? The ones he knew had serious girlfriends or were married. A few had babies. But he deserved a celebration. That gave him an idea. “Would you like to join me?”

“When?”

“Tonight?”

Silence.

Static sounded. As the pause in conversation continued, he twirled the pen around and around. A phone rang somewhere in the office.

“Do you have other plans?” he asked finally.

“No.”

If he didn’t give her a good reason for meeting him, she would say no. He didn’t know her well, but he knew that much.

“We’re going to be spending the weekend together, pretending to be engaged. We need to learn more about each other so we don’t make any mistakes. I want this weekend to go well. Don’t you?”

This wasn’t a date but a research meeting.

Troy smiled at the reasoning.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I’m free after eight.”

“Where do you live?” Troy asked, curious about what would keep her busy until eight o’clock.

“Near Noe Valley.”

“Do you want me to come there?”

“Why don’t we meet by your place since you’re the one sacrificing a weekend to go to my parents’ house?”

“Sounds fair.” Except he was bummed. He wanted to see where Cassie lived and learn more about her. “How about nine o’clock, at the coffeehouse on the corner of Chestnut and Avila?”

“You live in the Marina?”

“Yes.”

“Figures.” Her condescending tone was hard to miss.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she replied, but her voice said the opposite. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” As Troy hung up the phone, a scary realization filled his head—he was looking forward to seeing Cassie again.

♥ ♥ ♥

A little after nine o’clock that night, Cassandra stepped off the bus at the corner of Fillmore and Chestnut. She wove her way through the couples and groups of young professionals crowding the sidewalks on their way to one of the many restaurants, bars, and shops on Chestnut Street. Some storefronts were decorated for Halloween.

The Marina District.

Shivering, though the temperature was pleasant for October, Cassandra fought the rush of memories. She’d tried to erase everything about her old life—the one her family had approved of—the stressful life that had caused sleepless nights and health issues. Maybe she’d done too good a job putting her past behind her. She hadn’t been to this part of town in years.

Favorite shops she’d frequented had been replaced. The street had always been upscale, but a few mom-and-pop shops had survived. Most of those were gone now. She hoped the displaced merchants had found better opportunities elsewhere.

Cassandra stopped on the corner across from the coffeehouse. The place looked crowded. Not surprising given its popularity when she’d lived four blocks away.

A boulder of dread settled in her stomach.

What was she doing here?

All day, Cassandra had thought about seeing Troy again. As she’d shelved books in the travel section of the bookstore, she’d daydreamed about a tropical island with hourglass-fine sand and turquoise water. Troy had played a starring role, complete with a pair of board shorts and no shirt.

She couldn’t understand why she was imagining him like that. He’d seemed down to earth last night, but she’d said the same thing about Eric.

And he had been that way.

Until Eric met Emily.

Warning bells sounded.

Cassandra’s spine went ramrod straight.

Thinking about Troy as anything other than a casual acquaintance made zero sense. She would be stupid to think there was more between them—even the possibility of more. Just look at the situation.

Troy was pretending to be her fiancé.

Did that make him dishonest? Like Eric? And what did that say about her since the fake engagement was her idea?

She needed to remain…indifferent.

She used to work with guys like Troy—ambitious, cautious, rigid. Okay, he might not be exactly like that, but he could be.

Yes, he intrigued her, and men rarely did because she never let them get close enough for that to happen. There was something about Troy, though.

Maybe his polite manners? Or the twinkle of mischief in his eyes?

But that didn’t mean she needed to learn more about her so-called fiancé. She couldn’t risk getting close to him. Falling for the wrong guy would only lead to heartache.

Again.

Cassandra glanced at her cell phone.

Quarter after nine.

She was only a little late.

Squaring her shoulders, she entered the crowded coffeehouse. Folk music blared from the overhead speakers. Customers crammed into the place. Every table was taken with people trying to talk over the music and other conversations. Two men played backgammon at a small square table, and a man and a woman played Scrabble at another. She spotted Troy. He was staring at his phone and sitting at a table toward the back.

“Hi,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.”

As he put his phone in his pocket, he stood. “Let me guess, you’re always late.”

Troy’s smile sent her stomach into cartwheels. She forced herself to look away. “Yes, and I bet you’re always early.”

“Usually. Being punctual is important.”

“A good thing we’re not really engaged. We’re so different.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “For practice, of course.”

“Of course.”

She pulled a green lollipop from her purse and handed it to him. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He laughed at the dollar sign on the candy. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Reaching across the table, he pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat.”

She tossed her sweater over the chair but didn’t sit. “What would you like to drink?”

“It’s my treat, Cassie.”

“I…” Tonight was about him, so she would allow him to pay and let the nickname slide. She sat. “Since you’re on your way to megabucks, I’ll have a caramel macchiato.”

“I’ll be right back.”