Cassie's Grand Plan. Emmie Dark

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       “Hawthorn signage?” Ronan asked.

       “We have a new store opening next Monday,” Cassie explained.

       “Ah.” He pushed the plate of sandwiches toward Cassie. “Melanie seems very efficient,” he said.

       “She’s great, very organized and resourceful,” Cassie said, reaching for a salad sandwich triangle. “She’s been with us for almost five years now, and is a very important member of our team.”

       He gave Cassie a considered look. “And how long have you been with the company?”

       “Eleven years,” she replied, even though she was sure he already knew the answer. It was impossible someone as obviously prepared as he was wouldn’t have scoped her out—although she was reasonably sure his background check would start and finish with her career. Maybe, if he dug deep enough, he might find out about her family and what had happened to her parents—that was a matter of public record. But that would be it. No one knew how she’d come to join the company when she was seventeen except Graham, and he’d given her his word of honor that he’d never tell. She didn’t always trust Graham—and Ronan’s presence was clear evidence as to why—but on that one topic he’d never given her cause to doubt him.

       Her career with Country Style since then, on the other hand, was likely to have been an open book to Ronan McGuire, especially the last four years she’d spent as operations manager and second in charge to Graham. He probably knew what she had for breakfast, Cassie thought grimly. The answer of course was nothing, and remembering that, she took a bite of her sandwich.

       “That’s a long time to be with one organization,” he commented, one eyebrow raised in a way that caused a corresponding spike in Cassie’s blood pressure—much as she tried to ignore it. “Especially these days.”

       Cassie chewed and swallowed. “How long have you been with the Conroy Corporation?” she asked, keen to dodge the spotlight while she considered how to respond. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to gauge her passion for the business or hinting that she had limited herself by not broadening her experience. Cassie had the strong feeling that every question he asked had an ulterior motive, no matter how innocent it might seem on the surface.

       One side of his mouth cocked up in a crooked smile. “Ah, you have me there. I joined the company right after college and I’m about to become a partner.” His eyes grew harder with something Cassie couldn’t quite identify and she wondered why. Shouldn’t he be proud? The emotion, whatever it was, was gone again in a flash.

       “Where are you based?” she asked.

       “San Francisco,” he replied in clipped tones, letting her know that the subject was effectively closed. “So, what’s kept you at Country Style for eleven years?”

       He was persistent, she’d give him that. “I love it here,” she said simply. It was far, far more than that, but there was no way she was going into it all with a stranger.

       Besides, it was none of his business.

       “You’ve arranged a site tour?” he asked, pointing at the documents Mel had left behind, and Cassie was thankful he changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

       He took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed without breaking their shared gaze. For some reason, watching his jaw move was incredibly distracting. It started Cassie thinking about his mouth, his lips and then his tongue; she hurriedly looked down and took another bite of her own sandwich before he could read the blush she knew was stealing across her face.

       What on earth was wrong with her? Thinking about this man as anything other than her judge and jury—her potential executioner—was a recipe for disaster. Developing a crush on him was the stupidest idea from Stupidtown. Cassie had to stay on guard. Besides, anything like those belonged to Part Three of the Plan, and she was a long way from that.

       The Plan-with-a-capital-P was simple enough. She’d come up with it when she’d found herself at home, alone, on New Year’s Eve. Sitting there by herself had felt as if the rest of the world had learned some lesson that she’d somehow skipped. How could she have got to twenty-eight years old and have such a narrow life? All she did was work, eat and sleep. She was friendly with people from work, but rarely socialized. And when everyone else was occupied with their family, or away with their real friends, Cassie was by herself. Suddenly feeling very alone.

       Clearly, something needed to be done, and for that she needed a plan.

       Part One—secure her future with Country Style. That was most important. It was her life, her home, her family. Her foundation in the world. It came first. That’s why she’d spent two weeks researching and writing a report for Graham—analyzing the marketplace, proposing expansion options, showing him how much she cared for this company and what she could do for it—if he’d just give her the chance. It was exciting—Cassie felt a thrill of anticipation whenever she thought about the business’s future with her leading it—but it was only Part One. When Ronan’s analysis ratified her proposal to become CEO, and Graham adopted it, she’d be able to relax. She’d be able to take her eye off the ball just for a moment, and get some other areas of her life sorted out.

       Part Two was to do something about herself—address her admittedly plain appearance. She’d planned to call on Mel’s help for that. Some new clothes, maybe a new haircut. Perhaps learn how to use eyeliner so she didn’t end up looking like a panda. Nothing too dramatic—this wasn’t Pygmalion—but just make the best of what she had. She knew she was okay looking, and if she could learn to tame her unruly locks, her hair could become an asset instead of a nuisance. Her hourglass figure wasn’t what most fashion designers had in mind when they made clothes, it seemed, but she’d put a little money aside and that could be used to buy some new clothes that flattered—instead of swamped—her curves.

       Part Three was to get herself a love life—see if she could meet a guy who would finally be The One. She wasn’t entirely sure how to go about that as yet, but she did have a reasonably good picture of what The One looked like for her. Not in terms of looks—that wasn’t so important. But he’d be the kind of guy who’d support her career. The kind of guy who took out the rubbish without being asked. Most important, the kind of guy who’d make her feel safe.

       Part Four—well, Part Four of the plan was still murky. But basically it was take Parts One, Two and Three, mix well, and hopefully create a family. A nice, neat little family of her own—they would always be there for her, and she’d always be there for them.

       A nice home, a caring partner, a rewarding job and a couple of kids.

       Was it really too much to ask?

       Cassie didn’t think so.

       But right now, Part One had to be her focus. She shouldn’t be sitting here dreaming about Part Three, let alone Part Four.

       Not to mention the fact that Ronan McGuire was absolutely the last person for her, regardless of how arousing she found his sandwich eating. She needed someone soft and gentle. Someone who made her feel secure in herself, not poised on a knife-edge the way she’d felt ever since he’d turned up.

       Suddenly the tour of stores she’d arranged seemed like a special kind of torture. Cassie was signing herself up to spend almost a week in close quarters with a man who made her all kinds of hot and bothered. A man who reminded her of physical reactions she had gone a long time without. A man who СКАЧАТЬ