Page 35 of Tripped By Love
“What are you going to do?” he asked, following me out the door. “We don’t really know anything.”
“She needs to know before she signs on with someone shady.”
“Her or Brady?” Trevor asked, trying to hold back a smirk that reminded me of Jonas, who was spending the day in front of the TV with a game controller in his hand but wasn’t really happy about it. I figured I had a few hours before he climbed out of the garage apartment and started exploring Grand Orchard on his own.
“Don’t start with me,” I groused and took the stairs two at a time.
I rushed across the street, barely escaping being hit by a car, punched in my code at the front door of the studios, and stalked past the guard we had placed there. The control room was empty, along with the live room behind the huge wall of glass. I took the stairs two at a time, heading toward Brady’s office.
I burst through the door, not out of breath, but probably more frazzled than I should have been. A half a dozen heads swiveled in my direction from the table at the back of the room. Cassidy was there, but Chevelle was missing, which meant he was probably with Tristan in her art studio down the hall. Brady was at the table next to his manager, Lee, who shoved up his dark-framed glasses on an ageless, tan face that blended perfectly with his otherwise dark complexion as I stalked in.
Lance Ralley, who I recognized from the picture in the workup we’d done on him, directed twinkling eyes in my direction, reminding me of a skinny Santa Claus without the beard. Friendly in a way that seemed counter to the intelligence we’d gathered.
The other men and women in the room had to have been the lawyers.
Cassidy’s brows furrowed, confusion written on her face, but it was Brady that spoke first. “What’s up, Marco?”
I made my way to the table and all but slammed the paper down in front of Lance. “Before Cassidy goes any further, you need to explain this.”
Cassidy’s mouth flew open. I knew I needed to get better control over myself, but there was no way I was going to stand by and let some schmuck take all her hard work and try to steal it away from her. Not on my watch. Never again would I let someone take advantage of an unsuspecting female.
Lance looked down, read what was written there, and didn’t even flinch.
“I see you’ve done your research.”
His voice was calm, not at all concerned.
“What is it?” Cassidy asked, reaching for the paper.
“It’s a lawsuit I settled five years ago with Marsha’s Muffins,” Lance told her.
Brady was instantly on the alert, shifting from his nonchalant position to upright in a half a second, hand flicking at the bands on his wrist.
“What was the lawsuit about?” Brady asked.
“Marsha Deerborn accused me of corporate espionage.”
“Come again?” Brady asked.
Lance ignored us all, looking to Cassidy instead. “Do you remember the day we first met? When I asked you if you’d created your recipes yourself or if you’d borrowed them from someone?”
Cassidy nodded.
“Well, that’s because I had a very bad experience. An employee of mine created a muffin product for me. I had no idea that she’d done a stint at Marsha’s Muffins as an intern. I had no idea she’d essentially used the same recipe as Marsha’s until it was too late. Until it was in production and spread across the United States.”
My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure I believed the guy. There was just something tickling the back of my senses about him. Too friendly. Too accommodating. Too forthcoming. It hit me. He reminded me of my captain in the Fleet Marine Force. The one I hated. The one that looked like the boy-next-door but acted like Jack Nicholson. And even though my wariness likely had nothing to do with the real live man in front of me and more with haunted memories, I still couldn’t help them.
Lance continued talking to Cassidy, almost as if none of us were in the room. “It’s why you’ll see specific clauses in our contract about you taking ownership for any patent, copyright, or trademark claims that come forward.”
Cassidy raised her chin, pure confidence. “Everything I make is my own. No one can sue us for anything.”
Lance smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
He moved smoothly back from the lawsuit and into the contract they were proposing, drawing Cassidy’s eyes to the presentation they had on the screen. It was a signal for me to leave, to stand outside and wait like my position as Brady’s bodyguard expected of me, but for some reason, I couldn’t make myself go. Instead, I leaned up against the wall, arms crossed, and listened as the talks continued. When I saw the amount of money he was offering her, my heart screeched to a halt.
It was staggering. Worse?or rather, even better for Cassidy?the amount he was offering for her recipes was only a speck of sand compared to the percentage of the sales he thought she’d receive when the products went live. She’d be able to pay Brady back without even sneezing. She’d be set for life. For Chevelle’s life. She wouldn’t have to work herself to the bone day and night anymore. Although, I couldn’t imagine her not in the kitchen. Not when cooking and baking and creating were such a big part of who she was.
Thoughts of her in the kitchen brought back the memory of my fingers tangled in the apron string last night with her silky skin under my fingertips, with desire wafting between us that felt like it might devour us. But then, with a sudden twist of my stomach and a fierce pounding to my heart, I realized the truth. Cassidy O’Neil had always been out of my league, but this would lift her into a whole other universe.
