Authors: Mercy Celeste
Chapter Two
They said that the best defense was a good offense. Cass packed her bags, being careful to include her most teacherly clothes. She didn’t want Jamison Dalton getting the wrong idea right out of the gate. She wasn’t a floozy. She had a brain and a reputation to protect. The last thing she wanted to deal with was Jamison Dalton being Jamison Dalton.
She pulled a stack of cardigans out of her dresser drawer and tucked them into the largest case. Would she even need cardigans in Miami, she wondered, or stockings or tights or even a jacket? Did it ever get cold in Miami? Exactly how long did Jamison live in Miami each year? She knew his career took him all over the country during the season. Would she be required to travel with him to games, or just manage things from his Miami office?
“Damn!” Why had she let this happen to her—why? “Mom, what should I take? I’ve never been to Florida before, and Jaime didn’t tell me anything.”
“It’s Miami, dear—pretty sundresses and a bikini or several bikinis. They don’t wear that much down there. Sunscreen. Don’t forget that.” For some reason, there was a trill to her mother’s voice, almost as if she were happy that her only child was picking up and leaving with no notice.
“You’re a big help. Seriously, what do I need? And don’t say sunscreen and a smile. I doubt the sunscreen will make it past airport security, and I’m fresh out of smiles.”
“Honey, just pack the things you’ll miss if you leave them behind. Jaime said not to worry about clothes, didn’t he? Then don’t worry, he’ll make sure you have everything you need. Nicer stuff than those ratty old cardigans. He has an image to uphold after all.”
“Still not helping,” Cass shouted down the hallway, but the sound of the doorbell sent her into a tizzy of emotions. “No, no, no, I’m not ready. It’s not even seven yet. Aiiiii.”
“Good morning. I presume you are here to whisk my daughter away to paradise?” she heard her mother say at the door.
“Still not helping.” Her heart slammed into her chest wall, pounding harder as she looked around the room she’d spent her childhood in. She had everything she thought she might need, clothes, phone, iPod, and laptop. What was she forgetting? She grabbed a couple of old paperbacks off the bookshelf, to read on the plane, and the old bunny that sat in the middle of her bed, she couldn’t leave Mr. Flop behind.
“Cass, you’ve got everything. Stop worrying and go start your new life.” Her mom stood in the doorway, her eyes shimmering in the light.
“I don’t know if this is what I should be doing. What if a job comes open at—”
“It’s not going to, honey, not until the economy turns around. You’ve been offered a job you can’t refuse. Why are you fighting it?”
“Because it’s Jaime Dalton, Mom, the one person I actively hate, and now I’ve sold my soul to him.”
“You always did have a wild imagination, Cassandra. Jaime is a good man who obviously needs help. He chose you. Give him some credit at least.”
“I don’t know if I have any credit left. But I’ll give him a month, and if he’s the same old Jaime, I’m coming home.”
“I guess that’s better than hiding in the bathroom until the driver gives up and goes away.”
“How did you know I was thinking about doing just that?”
“Because, my daughter, I’ve known you your entire life, and Jaime Dalton is the one person who scares the shit out of you. Now grab your gear; the meter’s running.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“I know, love you too, and give Jaime my love. Tell him to kick some Packer ass.”
Leave it to her mother to see the upside of knowing a professional football player. Seeing the Packers humiliated each year was what she lived for.
“I’ll do that, Mom.” Cass whipped the zipper closed on her rolling case and grabbed her carry-on tote and her purse. She hugged her mother and headed out to meet the driver. The limo in the drive surprised her. She’d expected a car—a regular car—or a taxi, certainly not a limo. Nor did she expect the stir the early morning visit would cause among the neighbors out for their morning walks before heading off to work.
“My daughter is going to work for Jaime Dalton,” her mother shouted to Mrs. Perkins next door; there was pride in her voice. “She’s going to Miami.”
“Have fun, Cass. That Jaime Dalton has a cute ass. Tell him I said that, okay?” Mrs. Perkins was somewhere in her seventies, still very active, with a wicked sense of humor and was man crazy.
“I’ll do that, Mrs. P.”
“Have a good time, dear, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Thelma, don’t scare the girl, you know there isn’t much out there you wouldn’t do.”
“Ready, miss?” The driver took her large case and steered her to the back of the car. His eyes were laughing, though his face betrayed nothing. Cass decided the day just could not get any weirder.
“I guess it’s now or never,” she told him just before he closed her into the car, where she found herself face-to-face with her mortal enemy. “Hello, Jaime. Mrs. Perkins says to tell you, you have a nice ass, and my mother says to kick some Packer ass.”
A light flickered behind the deep honey-colored eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, Jaime let the window down and leaned out. “I love you, Mrs. Perkins. When I come back home, I’m taking you out for a night on the town. Mrs. Pendleton, I vow to do my absolute best to grind those Packers into the ground. And I’ll take care of your daughter too.”
Cass watched as Mrs. Perkins turned a very brilliant shade of red, but the smile on her face was infectious. As for her mother, well, all Cass could do was sink back in the seat and pretend she wasn’t related. “Jaime, dear, forgive me, but I don’t think you are man enough to take care of my Cass. She’s a special kind of difficult.”
“Well, I’ll give it my best try,” he shouted in reassurance.
“You do that, and remember about the Packers. I’m holding you to that.”
“Your mother is a hoot. I always liked that about her.” Jaime was still smiling when they exited her street and pulled onto the highway.
“Yes, well, we all have our crosses to bear.” Embarrassed to the roots didn’t quite cover how Cass was feeling at that moment. “And just in case you forget, I’ll remind you that you have a date with Mrs. Perkins next time you’re in town. When will that be exactly?”
He just smiled that evasive smile of his. “Have you eaten? I have breakfast. Or coffee. It’s too early to talk agendas.”
“Jaime…”
“What happened to Mr. Dalton? I think since this is a business arrangement maybe we should stick to a more formal relationship in public.”
“Well, we’re not in public, we’re in the back of a car. I can call you anything I want.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things in the back of a car, but never ‘Mr. Dalton.’” The lewd meaning behind his words didn’t escape her. “Besides, Miss Pendleton, if we start now, there will be no slip-ups later.”
“Lord forbid your people know we have a previous relationship. And since we are on the subject, will I be scheduling your private affairs as well? If so, pull over now and I’ll walk home.”
“Are you implying we have had a previous relationship? Please, don’t flatter yourself. You were just the annoying girl I had to deal with every single day for thirteen years. We had no relationship. As for handling my privates, we’ll just have to discuss that later as well.”
“You are a pig, Jaime…”
He wagged his finger at her. “Mr. Dalton.”
“Fine. You are a pig, Mr. Dalton.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Pendleton. Now would you care for a cup of coffee or something to eat before we reach the airport?”
“Do you have any bacon? I’d love some dead pig.” She knew it was a stupid retort, but damned if he didn’t bring out the child in her.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” He opened a stocked buffet. “Help yourself.”
* * * *
Despite her taunt, Cass did little justice to the breakfast he’d picked up. She picked at the biscuit and nibbled on the ham before putting the sandwich down to concentrate on the scenery flashing quickly past. She turned down coffee in favor of orange juice, then asked for tea. He hadn’t thought to include a pot of tea.
He quietly studied her for the rest of the trip. Several times, she caught him staring at her and gave him what he remembered as her death stare. Then she began to fidget in her seat, she shifted often, tucking her skirt or tugging at the cardigan she wore over an ivory-colored blouse. After thirty minutes of watching her, he couldn’t stand the constant fidgets any longer.
“Are you always this jittery? Or do I make your skin crawl?”
She turned those damned blue soul-searing eyes of hers on him as if he really were the devil incarnate. Did she actually dislike him?
“I’ve never flown before. I’m just nervous and not hungry.” The heat in her eyes gave way to uncertainty. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I didn’t know, I guess I am so used to flying that I never considered … okay, if it’s any comfort we’ll be on a private jet. We’ll drive right up to the plane and sit in leather seats with television and anything else you might need. No going through security lines, no screaming babies. It’s usually a three-hour flight, depending on takeoff clearance, of course, and weather. We should be in Miami by noon eastern time and from there a limo to my house, where lunch will be waiting.”
“Okay, good, I think. But what about turbulence, and what if…”
“Relax, Cass, I’ve flown a couple hundred times, nothing is going to happen.”
“You promise.”
“I promise, and there will be liquor if you need it. And a bed if that will help.” Was it his fault that she heard that wrong? At least she began to relax.
Note to self. Taunting Cass Pendleton distracts her.
Check and double check.
“Miss Pendleton.” She fixed him with that evil gleam of hers that he remembered as Cass throwing down the gauntlet.
“What?”
“I’m Miss Pendleton, not Cass or Cassandra, or any of the secret little names you call me.”
“I have never had any secret names for you. Just because you had some not-so-nice names for me doesn’t mean I stooped to that level.”
“No, that’s right, I remember now, you preferred calling me names to my face.”
“I never…”
“Fatty, fatty, two by four, among others.”
“Oh, I did that?” He didn’t remember.
“A couple of times, usually when you were with other jocks.”
“Oh. Well, for what it’s worth. I didn’t think you were fat then. And you certainly aren’t fat now.”
“Look, Jaime, can we just put that all in the past? Most of my memories of you are painful. If we are going to work together, then we need to bury the hatchet, so to speak.”
“You brought it up.” Her memories of him were painful? Really? She’d been the aggressor more often than not. She’d been the one who’d tormented him with her need to outdo him at all costs.
“And for that I’m incredibly sorry.”
“Well, Miss Pendleton, I guess a fresh start is a good idea. I’m sorry for the things I did in the past, and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, maybe we can begin our professional relationship on even footing.”
“I think I can manage that, Mr. Dalton.” And with that, she went back to looking out the window. She didn’t offer an apology for the things she’d done in return, but at least she stopped fidgeting.
Chapter Three
Miami wasn’t what Cass thought it would be. She’d always imagined a hot and humid tropical paradise with glimmering buildings and fancy cars, but that wasn’t the case at all. The weather in late May was very close to the weather at home. With highs reaching into the low eighties, but with a sea breeze, she hardly felt it. The humidity was low, but Jaime assured her that in the middle of summer the days could become almost unbearable, again not much different from home.
The city was beautiful from the air, lots of blue and white framed by turquoise water. On the ground, though, Miami was like any other city, with fast-food restaurants and discount stores. Again, Jaime informed her that the Miami she saw on television did exist, just not in this particular area.
The drive to his home was stop and go, as city streets turned to suburbia, then to grand estates. The driver proceeded through the estates until the sky and the horizon became one before pulling into a sweeping circular drive, the security gates standing open in welcome.
The house wasn’t huge by the neighborhood’s standards—white stucco walls with teal Spanish tiles, and a fountain in the courtyard. Sort of low key and highbrow at the same time, with palm trees and an almost ocean view, Cass thought.
“Welcome to my home.” Without waiting for the driver, Jaime stepped out of the car and held his hand out to her. In awe of not only the house but also his manner, she took it and slid out into the bright sunlight. “I’ll have Alicia put your things in the guest suite, and after lunch we’ll get down to business, if that’s all right with you?”
“I’ll be living here, then?” Somehow she imagined a little apartment nearby sort of arrangement, not an on the premises deal.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Jaime turned to her, real concern on his face. “Believe me, Cass, this is a big house; I have plenty of room. It’ll be almost like you have your own apartment, and the doors lock. Not that there is any danger of midnight visitors.”
“I guess it will be fine. I won’t have to learn to drive in a strange city; that’s a plus … I guess.”
“And you won’t have far to commute to work, just down the hallway.”
He thought that was a plus? The enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm her. What exactly was he wanting of her? What were the hours? Did he really mean available to him twenty-four seven? Maybe she should have gotten a contract before allowing herself to be hauled halfway across the country to be at her worst enemy’s beck and call.
“Ah, Alicia,
mi corazón
.” A beautiful dark-skinned woman stood in the door, her smile huge as she hugged Jaime as if he were the conquering hero returned from war. Her eyes sparkled with affection, and after she spotted Cass, her gaze became territorial. His live-in lover? Great. This was going to be fun. “Alicia, this is Miss Pendleton. She’s my new personal assistant, and will be living in the guest suite. Cass, this is Alicia, my personal chef and housekeeper. Anything you want, Alicia will be happy to get for you.”