Chasing Cassie

Chapter 2 - James Carter

I grab my things as quickly as I can. Wanting nothing more than to leave this place.

“Hi, sorry... It’s me again,” he tried to catch my eyes as I was chucking all my belongings into my bag.

“Just want to make sure you’re okay…?”

“I’m… I’ll be fine, thanks again, uhh… Mr. Carter.”

“It’s James,” his broad shoulders were half the size of my desk, and it blocked the curious looks we were getting from all the girls in the room.

“Thank you for that, James. “ I can see Crystal attempting to tilt her head, checking James out from my periphery.

“No worries, Miss…?”

“Cassandra, but uhh… You can call me Cassie,” I awkwardly extended my hand like an i***t.

He looked at my hand and slowly grasped it between his large ones. He shook it and smiled at me.

A boyish smile that made me forget what I was doing.

I gulped and desperately thought of something else to say. He saved me by finally letting go of my hand and tilting his head at the exit.

“You need to go?” he reminded me. Understanding my need to escape.

“Yes, it’s… I need some air,” I said.

“Of course,” he motioned to the door. I walked out with him.

Before reaching the elevators he said, “Listen, I’m new here but I just… That sh*t’s not okay,” his stern voice was back.

“You don’t know me, but if you need help, I’m just downstairs. I’m the new graphic designer,” he said.

“Oh, that’s okay. Thanks, James.” At this point, I’m red as a tomato and grateful to get on the elevator to end my awkwardness in front of such an attractive guy.

“I mean it, Cassie.” He stared at me and then scratched his nape. He looked nervous. It amused me. I was almost disappointed the doors to the elevators closed with the cute expression on his face.

I gripped my bag as I stepped out of the building and took a big breath in.

I was expecting to be gasping out on the street by now, but James somehow distracted me.

He’s… something.

Oh, who am I kidding? He’s insanely good-looking.

And amusing.

And kind.

I shouldered my bag as I got on the subway. I watched as the rush hour foot traffic made its way in and out.

Usually, I’d be knocked out by this time of the day. Slumped on the subway seat or reading a book. This was no ordinary day, one of the worst ones yet.

But I’m almost giddy…?

Huh, I guess James flipped that bad experience for me.

I pinned the bizarre thought as I entered my apartment.

I hadn’t fully opened the door when a blur of gray rushed at me.

I winced as Leo’s claws sank into my skin, but I picked him up and flung him onto my shoulder.

My chubby tabby cat purred as I navigated around my small apartment. I dropped my keys on the bowl beside the door, threw my messenger bag on the kitchen table, and took off my shoes as he clung to me.

I cooed at my baby boy and gave him treats, all the while my thoughts remained on the new person I met. I’m getting more curious by the hour, it’s not every day that I get this warm feeling in my chest just by thinking about someone.

I thought about how he saved me right on time, just how he knew what to do. He made me feel safe.

A knock on the door was a welcome distraction.

“Thanks for knocking,” I smiled at my neighbor. Leo hissed at him and clung harder to me.

Hunter shrugged. “Had to, you confiscated my key.”

I laughed. “You can’t barge in here anytime, dude. Leo gets upset.”

Hunter Monroe, British f*ckboy and general asshole leaned on my door. “Why not?”

“Cause you’re not my boyfriend,” I deadpanned. “And he doesn’t like you.” I pointed at Leo.

“Sure... Pizza?” He asked as he deposited himself on my couch.

“Sure,” I imitated him. “Order it yourself, I’m broke.”

“Yeah, yeah… not the boyfriend alright, I pay for your food all the time,” Hunter grumbled.

I pretended not to hear him and went to my bedroom to take a quick shower.

I return to my living room with a disgruntled Leo perched on the arm of the couch glaring at Hunter as he devoured a slice of pepperoni pizza.

“Does he want your food or does he want you to scram?”

“Both,” Hunter snickered. He eyed my shorts and exposed legs. “Horror?” he asked as he pointed at the TV.

He knows I love zombie films, and he knows I’m addicted to pizza.

“‘Course,” I said as I took a slice from the box on my coffee table and sat beside him. The old couch swallowed me and Hunter draped his arm over my shoulder.

Just a normal weeknight with a platonic friend.

Or not.

It began like this.

His arm on my shoulder gripped me closer to him as another zombie devoured a minor character on the screen.

His other hand found its way to the end of my shorts. The gentle rhythm of his hands on my thighs, small touches, and my favorite food on my full belly lulled me.

I leaned my head back on the couch as another character was getting eaten on the scene. Half invested in the story. The other part of me enjoys Hunter’s ministrations.

He has abandoned the film entirely and has focused his attention on my neck.

Little kisses here and there, his hand wandering a bit more, touches getting heavier.

I sighed, here we go again.

That thought soon exited my mind as his hands got bolder.

Who am I kidding here? He’s a hot British guy offering food and intimacy. We all have needs. I justified myself.

Leo hissed as Hunter pushed him off the couch.

“That’s why he’s always pissed at you,” I said as his hands began their exploration for the night.

- - - -

“Work kicking your butt?” he asked. “You’re more, I don’t know… intense?” he alluded to what just happened on the couch.

I didn’t respond. He shrugged, not entirely bothered by what was running around in my mind. He never was.

Hunter’s one of the most blunt and uncomplicated guys I have ever met.

Early on, we agreed that we liked our non-relationship this way. Two f****d up people who found each other. That’s it.

I have my demons and he has his. We help each other find relief. I wouldn’t know where I would be without him.

Hunter’s the reason I’m not some s*x-crazed deviant given my intimacy addiction.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome and brings food too.

A f*ckboy who’s decent. Well, nice enough. It took a while to reach this point.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said as he stood. He saluted me and I tried to throw a pillow at his muscular back. He didn’t bother wearing his shirt and walked out in his sweatpants.

I giggled at his antics. There’s a good guy underneath that asshole.

- - - -

Hunter’s help doesn’t extend until the morning. I’m more than tense, I’m downright scared.

Mr. Cole’s lecherous smile is back. If James managed to frighten him a bit yesterday, that’s gone now. He eyes me up as I hurry to my desk. Sipping on his frappuccino and sucking on his tobacco. He’s enjoying it.

One day I want to burn this company uniform I’m forced to wear every day.

I gulp as I place my things on my table. Whatever hope that I clung to that his propensity to harassment would somehow lessen is dead and gone. So much for my white knight.

Speaking of, in the middle of my stress, I tried to glance at the open door leading to the elevators. Silly, this isn’t his floor. He has no business going here again.

Mr. Cole’s huge belly blocks my view. “Cassie and Crystal, my favorite girls. Come to my office when you’re ready.”

Ugh. Here we go. At least Crystal’s there. As much as I hate her guts, he wouldn’t attempt anything with someone else there, right?

“You’re going to meet up with the client tomorrow, girls. So get ready,” he said to Crystal. As if she was the one who created the pitch.

“Fix your hair. Put on some makeup, Cassie. I need you ladies to wow this guy.”

The shock on my face must have registered on him. With VIP clients, he doesn’t usually send us. He likes to wine and dine them himself to woo them. Besides, I’m so awkward that I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, let alone impress a client.

I work best behind words. I hide behind them! What am I supposed to do? I don’t know how to present a pitch to clients.

“But, Mr. Cole, I don’t know how… I can’t,” I stammered.

“Shush, I just need you there. Crystal will do all the talking. You’re back up, see.” He smiled at her and she proudly beamed back. These two are really something.

Oh, instead of him grabbing credit for my work and presenting it… he just wants Crystal to do it. Because the client likes beautiful women, is that it?

I have no problem with that. Just as long as I don’t get forced to interact with the client, she can take my words and my content however she wants.

“That’s such a great idea, boss. You don’t need to worry, I’m sure I can charm the client.” Crystal stated as she tossed her curls and batted her eyelashes. I internally rolled my eyes at her behavior.

Was that really necessary? We’re not in some beauty pageant. We’re at work.

“I know you would, Crystal. That’s my girl. And, I think you should wear something else at the meeting. Just to convey that you’re the project lead. Cassie, sweetheart, the uniform’s okay for you. Maybe just hike up the skirt a bit?”

He stared at my exposed legs as he said this. I swung them away from his line of vision.

The pervert.

And now, Crystal’s the lead? Even if it’s my work?

I sighed. It’s still fine, I’m fine. This is what I tell myself once I return to my desk.

I distract myself with other tasks. There are other projects and clients that need my writing. I shouldn’t be bothered too much about this.

It’s just another client. No need to fuss.

----

It turns out that isn’t true.

This isn’t some other client.

I was aware that we were going to face the owner of the West Companies. But it wasn’t until I saw him, that I caught a glimpse of the man himself, that I realized:

He’s not just some client.

Mr. West is the definition of power.

To put it simply, he exudes so much charisma that even Crystal doesn’t know what to do with herself. The poor girl didn’t have a chance.

----

We entered his hotel and waited for him at the restaurant. I fidgeted and tugged on my skirt while Crystal chastised me. “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

I nodded, pissed off at myself for showing weakness in front of this woman.

“What are you even nervous about? You just have to sit there. I’ll do the talking,” she said snootily as she lowered the neckline of her dress. “I’ve memorized the pitch. I’m going to nail this.”

I couldn’t prevent myself from rolling my eyes.

“Sure…” I told her. If her plunging neckline would have anything to say, it’s that she’s willing to do anything to make the client say yes to us.

She was so busy with her overflowing breasts that she failed to see the man coming to our table.

But I did.

And yet, I still wasn’t prepared to meet Mr. Stephen West.