Chapter Twenty-four
Cassie awakened shivering. The unfamiliar habit of waking in her guest room combined with the thick fog that clouded her mind, and she couldn’t remember where she was…or why. Fleeting panic stole over her. But as her heart launched into overdrive¸ another gust of wind whistled through the fireplace’s open flue, and she shivered again. Full comprehension smacked her in the face, along with a heavy dose of mortification.
God, the things she’d done last night…the things she’d said.
She shook her head against the rise of modesty. No. She would not be ashamed. It was part of who she was, part of what Brad was. Yes, he’d gone overboard last night. Yes, she was still angry with him. Angry enough she’d like to kick him in the shins. Yet not furious enough to turn the last few days they had together into a stilted, awkward, professional-only involvement. However, they needed to reach an immediate agreement on the type and execution of any further reprimands. She would not allow him to inflict pain, physically or mentally. And if he objected—well, as he’d said, he could leave now.
She suspected he wouldn’t. They’d had enough time together to understand some pretty intimate things about one another. He’d had ample opportunity to test her pain thresholds, and other than a playful lover’s swat on the rump now and then, he never had. He might be dominant, but she didn’t think pain was his ballgame anymore than it was hers.
So where was the pig-headed jerk? She glanced around the room, noting fresh snow on the windowsill outside. Shoveling maybe? If he was buried in a snow bank, figuratively, that would explain the late morning sunlight and his failure to wake her up for a timely appearance at the office.
It didn’t, however, explain her cold skin and why the blankets hadn’t been pulled from the pillows.
Unease tugged at her.
She stretched to the foot of the bed and glanced at the floor. His clothes were missing. More credence to the snow theory. More questions about the wrinkled, but still made bed.
Sighing, she pushed herself to her feet. The wobbly nature of her knees and the quivering of her thighs startled her. But surprise gave way to another level of annoyance, when she managed to get her feet under her appropriately. If she’d needed more evidence he’d gone over the top last night, she’d just discovered it. If she walked funny all day, if he made one damn teasing remark, he’d have a full blown fight on his hands.
She slid into yesterday’s clothes to hide from the chilly air until she could sort this all out and snag a shower. As she turned to glance at the clock and determine exactly what time it was, two sheets of paper that hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep caught her attention.
The churning unease in her belly transformed into a leaden ball. Instinct screamed she didn’t want to look at that letter. Sense, however, dragged her to the nightstand. With an unsteady hand, she picked up the type written sheets and studied the first. Her eye focused instantly on the bold-faced line at the bottom.
I am adamantly opposed to allowing Anna to spend any time in Dale’s presence. Tell Ms. Blaire I will fight Jennifer for every penny she has over this matter. You are my attorney, and I expect you to represent my interests, not intimidate me with what pursing this will do to my daughter’s wellbeing. Your recent communication has left me questioning whether you’re working for me or pacifying opposing counsel.
Addressed to Brad. Signed by Miles Cooper. As her heart rate jumped into overdrive, she flipped to the second page, absorbing Randall Blackson, Senior Partner at Blackson and Goodwell’s words.
Cassie’s knees buckled. She dropped to the edge of the mattress, before she toppled over. Denial bounded through her head. She was imagining this. She hadn’t fully woken up; it had to be a bad dream. He’d been turned in to the partners? Even if Miles Cooper knew nothing concrete—oh, good God, Brad received these yesterday. The time stamp indicated shortly before they’d left the office. Brad had asked about Jennifer.
He’d known! The slimeball had known all night long that questions had been raised and their affair had to end. This was how he told her?