Page 27 of Mr. Wrong
Lifting the pancakes from the griddle, I stack them on a plate and walk them over to her. “You told me your boss was anobody,” I say in a low tone while I set the plate on the counter in front of her. Her eyes widen for a moment before her jaw sets itself at a stubborn angle that makes me want to drag her across the counter and fuck her into submission.
“You told me your brotherowns a bar,” she shoots back, snatching the fork out of my grasp when I offer it to her.
“You said your boss isa total asshole.” Leaning over, I snag the syrup and slam it down in front of her, keeping my hand wrapped around it so I can’t grab her and put my dirty thoughts into action. “At least you told the truth about that one—and I happen to have more than one brother.”
Her mouth opens, hanging there for a few seconds before it snaps shut again. “Your brother made me sign a non-disclosure agreement. I can’t even sayLandon Traskin public.” She shakes her head, aiming those wide brown eyes at me. “And if I evenwhisperyour niece’s name out loud, he’s made it perfectly clear that if I do, he’ll crucify me.”
Yeah, that sounds about right.
Ever since Rachel’s death, Landon’s been waging war on the paparazzi. They get the occasional snapshot of him eating dinner with a co-star or coming and going from the studio but that’s about it. As far as the general public is concerned, Cassie is a ghost. The only photograph of her that exists is a grainy, long-lens shot of Landon carrying her out of the hospital and even then, all you can see is a blanket-wrapped bundle.
“Then what are you doing here?” I tip the syrup bottle over her pancakes, dousing her stack. “If he’s such an asshole and it’s such a hardship, why are you here?” I know why someone like her friend, Dani, would be here. The same reason just about every other woman on the planet would be here.
Because my brother is Landon Trask, the hottest, richest, most famous widower on the planet and they’d all be here, looking for their Prince Charming. Their Happily Ever After and they’d have no qualms about using Cassie to do it. I don’t want to believe that about Ellenore, but the last thirty minutes and my wild imagination have made it goddamned hard.
“I already told you.” She shakes her head while cutting into her stack of pancakes with the side of her fork. “I need this job.”
Jesus Christ, I want to believe her. So much so that it takes me by surprise. “So, no Landon Trask posters hanging on your dorm room wall in college, I take it?”
“Of course I had a Landon Trask poster, hanging on my wall at college,” she says, forking up the mouthful of pancake she’s cut from the stack. “They handed them out at Freshman orientation.” She rolls her eyes at me while she chews and I laugh. Finished with her bite, she sighs and puts her fork down. “I don’t want you to leave. I told Landon that—”
“YoutoldLandon?” I’m not sure if it’s the familiar way my brother’s name rolls off her tongue or if it’s the fact that she’s been here for five fucking minutes and she has the power to tell my brotheranything,but something tightens the back of my neck. Grips my gut and squeezes it so hard I suddenly have to breathe through my nose.
She nods slowly, the soft tilt of her head causing her long, silky ponytail to slip over her shoulder and fall against her back. “I know he fired you because of me, but I told him we can work together. That it doesn’t have to be either or. That we can—”
“So, you want to work together. For Cassie?” That she spoke to him on my behalf sets my jaw at a dangerous angle. “Come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“Yes.” She nods at me, cautiously optimistic because my tone doesn’t match up with what I’m saying. “I think that our working together would be the best thing for her.”
I look at her. Her freshly scrubbed face and her perky little ponytail. Her cute little sweater and girl-next-door sneakers. Under all the wholesomeness I can see a grit I’m not even sure she knows she possesses. A toughness she’s never tapped into before. If I fight her, she’s going to fight me back. She’s not goingto tuck tail and run. I’m not entirely surprised by the realization and if I’m honest, I’m more than a little relieved.
“Is that right?” I say, aiming my gaze at the countertop while she nods at me. “Well, that’s too bad.” I snap the dishtowel off my shoulder to swipe it over the flat surface between us. “Because I don’t need your help and I don’t want you here.” I feel like a liar when I say it, but I grit my teeth and force myself to keep at it. To tell her what’s going to happen if she stays. “And I’m going to do everything I can to get you fired.
Nineteen
Ellenore
Before I can sayanything else or even process what he just said to me, the back door opens, drawing our attention away from each other.
“Good,” Lex says, tossing his towel on the counter. “You’re here. Killian, this is Ellenore Pierce—Ellenore, this is Killian Davis.” Reaching for my half-eaten plate of cold pancakes, he practically throws it at the sink. “Introductions are complete—my work here is done.” He pushes past the man in the doorway and disappears.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Killian says, his jawline set and tight, before following Lex out the door. Because I’m just as bad as Cassie, I jump up from my seat, skirting the island to stand at the sink, aiming my gaze out the large window above it.
The man Lex introduced as Killian is in his early thirties, dark hair clipped military short. Good-looking in a hard, covert-ops kind of way. Despite the fact that he’s dressed like an IT geek and carrying a briefcase, I have no problem imagining him jumping out of a helicopter or rappelling down the side of a building.
They’re arguing and despite the fact that he looks like he could kill Lex with a spoon, Lex doesn’t look afraid. He looks pissed, his arms crossed over his chest, neck and spine rigid and stiff while Killian speaks in tones too low for me to hear what he’s saying, jabbing his finger at the door they just walked through. I don’t have to hear him, I know what he’s saying—or at least I know who he’s talking about.
Me.
Because he saw Lex bring me home last night and he thinks he knew who I was. That he was trying to sabotage me or maybe get back at his brother for hiring me.
I look away from the window, focusing on the dishes in the sink. Because I don’t know what else to do, I scrape cold, sticky pancakes into the trash can and rinse plates and silverware before loading them into the dishwasher.
“I’m sorry I spied on you.”
I jerk away from the sink and turn, wiping my wet hands on the seat of my jeans. Cassie is sitting at the counter in the spot I just vacated, watching me watch her uncle and her bodyguard. “It’s okay to be curious,” I say, excusing us both for being nosy.
“You yelled at Uncle Lex when you thought he made me do it,” she reminds me, reaching for and opening one of the catalogs her father gave me to a random page.
