I laugh. “This way, he’ll just feel special.”
She nods, her grin widening. “Yes, exactly. I knew I liked you.”
Cassandra leaves the cookies with me and another small packet which, when I lift it, smells like cookies too.
She goes around the office, chatting to everyone and leaving them all a small packet of her cookies, too.
I like Cassandra. She’s warm and real in ways so many of these people aren’t. I think Joseph should use her for publicity. But I hesitate, rethinking it.
If Joseph wanted to, he would. Because this woman is an asset. But then again, would I want to constantly drag my family into the limelight? Especially after Gianna’s disappearance?
No, I wouldn’t.
But the fact I like this woman makes me even more determined to find Gianna. My heart hurts for her. I can’t even begin to imagine what she must have gone through when her child went missing. Like having a limb ripped off is all I can imagine. Like missing a vital part of her.
And the not knowing if her daughter’s okay or hurt or…or dead must be horrible. A terrible stasis where there isn’t any closure, and it’s not fair.
It’s even worse when I know Gianna’s alive. I spoke to her.
The urge to rush to her and tell Cassandra everything pulls at me, and it takes everything I am to sit here, silent, keeping what I know to myself.
But I busy myself until she leaves, and then I slide the cookies into my drawer on my desk and go to the bathroom, taking a few minutes to recenter myself.
“It’s for the greater good,” I whisper to my reflection.
And it is. I know it. Me keeping meeting Gianna to myself is terrible, but it’s worse if I blabbed to Cassandra and got her hopes up only to have them dashed if we can’t find her.
I close my eyes.
If Cade can’t.
But it’s Cade.
I have faith in him.
He can do anything.
I open my eyes and brush my fingers over my hair, tucking in the stray strands.
A part of me almost laughs because there’s nothing I could do to ever begin to look as perfectly put together as Cassandra. I think it might be impossible.
With that, I go back out and get back to work.
It’s almost five-thirty when Joseph and his Chief of Staff along with a few others come in. I know there are more meetings, but I guess he likes to touch base when he can.
Going into his office, H spends the next twenty minutes on the phone and answering emails. Finally, he sits back, and I open the drawer and get the cookies.
I head over, knocking on the wall.
He looks over and smiles, his gaze lighting on the Tupperware. “I see my wife’s been here.”
“She’s lovely. I liked her a lot.”
“Everyone likes Cassandra. I joke she’s the one who should have gone into politics.” He motions me in. “It’s only a half joke. She’d be running the country by now, and I’d be…what’s the word?”
“First man? First Husband?”
“Obsolete,” he says, smiling. Then it fades, but the warmth remains. “Sit, please. I only have a few minutes.”