Under the Boss's Mistletoe. Jessica Hart
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Cassie dropped into the chair at her own desk. It felt very strange, hearing Jake’s name after all this time. She could still picture him with terrifying clarity, sitting astride that mean-looking machine, an angry young man with hard hands and a bitter smile. The memory of that kiss still had the power to make her toes curl inside her shoes.
‘He’s getting married?’
‘Why else would he get in touch with a wedding planner?’
‘I just can’t imagine it.’ The Jake Trevelyan Cassie had known wasn’t the type to settle down.
‘Luckily for us, he obviously can.’ Joss turned back to her computer. ‘He sounded keen, anyway, so I said you’d go round this afternoon.’
‘Me?’ Cassie looked at her boss in dismay. ‘You always meet the clients first.’
‘I can’t today. I’ve got a meeting with the accountant, which I’m not looking forward to at all. Besides, he knows you.’
‘Yes, but he hates me!’ She told Joss about that last encounter outside Portrevick Hall. ‘And what’s his fiancée going to think? I wouldn’t want to plan my wedding with someone who’d kissed my bride-groom.’
‘Teenage kisses don’t count.’ Joss waved them aside. ‘It was ten years ago. Chances are, he won’t even remember.’
Cassie wasn’t sure if that would make her feel better or worse. She would just as soon Jake didn’t remember the gawky teenager who had thrown herself at him at the Allantide Ball, but what girl wanted to know that she was utterly forgettable?
‘Anyway, if he didn’t like you, why ring up and ask to speak to you?’ Joss asked reasonably. ‘We can’t afford to let a possible client slip through our fingers, Cassie. You know how tight things are at the moment. This is our best chance of new work in weeks, and if it means being embarrassed then I’m afraid you’re going to have to be embarrassed,’ she warned. ‘Otherwise, I’m really not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to keep you on.’
Which was how Cassie came to stand outside a gleaming office-building that afternoon. Its windows reflected a bright September sky, and she had to crane her neck to look up to the top. Jake Trevelyan had done well for himself if he worked somewhere like this, she thought, impressed in spite of herself.
Better than she had, that was for sure, thought Cassie, remembering Avalon’s chaotic office above the Chinese takeaway. Not that she minded. She had only been working for Joss a few months and she loved it. Wedding planning was far and away the best job she had ever had—Cassie had had a few, it had to be admitted—and she would do whatever it took to hang on to it. She couldn’t bear to admit to her family of super-achievers that she was out of work.
Again.
‘Oh, darling!’ her mother would sigh with disappointment, while her father would frown and remind her that she should have gone to university like her elder sister and her two brothers, all of whom had high-flying careers.
No, she had to keep this job, Cassie resolved, and if that meant facing Jake Trevelyan again then that was what she would do.
Squaring her shoulders, she tugged her jacket into place and headed up the marble steps.
Worms were squirming in the pit of her stomach but she did her best to ignore them. It was stupid to be nervous about seeing Jake again. She wasn’t a dreamy seventeen-year-old any longer. She was twenty-seven, and holding down a demanding job. People might not think that being a wedding planner was much of a career, but it required tact, diplomacy and formidable organizational-skills. If she could organise a wedding—well, help Joss organise one—she could deal with Jake Trevelyan.
A glimpse of herself in the mirrored windows reassured her. Luckily, she had dressed smartly to visit a luxurious hotel which one of their clients had chosen as a venue that morning. The teal-green jacket and narrow skirt gave her a sharp, professional image, Cassie decided, eyeing her reflection. Together with the slim briefcase, it made for an impressive look.
Misleading, but impressive. She hardly recognised herself, so with any luck Jake Trevelyan wouldn’t recognise her either.
Her only regret was the shoes. It wasn’t that they didn’t look fabulous—the teal suede with a black stripe was perfect with the suit—but she wasn’t used to walking on quite such high heels, and the lobby floor had an alarmingly, glossy sheen to it. It was a relief to get across to the reception desk without mishap.
‘I’m looking for a company called Primordia,’ she said, glancing down at the address Joss had scribbled down. ‘Can you tell me which floor it’s on?’
The receptionist lifted immaculate brows. ‘This is Primordia,’ she said.
‘What, the whole building?’ Cassie’s jaw sagged as she stared around the soaring lobby, taking in the impressive artwork on the walls and the ranks of gleaming lifts with their lights going up, up, up…
‘Apparently he’s boss of some outfit called Primordia,’ Joss had said casually when she’d tossed the address across the desk.
This didn’t look like an ‘outfit’ to Cassie. It looked like a solid, blue-chip company exuding wealth and prestige. Suddenly her suit didn’t seem quite so smart.
‘Um, I’m looking for someone called Jake Trevelyan,’ she told the receptionist. ‘I’m not sure which department he’s in.’
The receptionist’s brows climbed higher. ‘Mr Trevelyan, our Chief Executive? Is he expecting you?’
Chief Executive? Cassie swallowed. ‘I think so.’
The receptionist turned away to murmur into the phone while Cassie stood, fingering the buttons on her jacket nervously. Jake Trevelyan, bad boy of Portrevick, Chief Executive of all this?
Blimey.
An intimidatingly quiet lift took her up to the Chief Executive’s suite. It was like stepping into a different world. Everything was new and of cuttingedge design, and blanketed with the hush that only serious money can buy.
It was a very long way from Portrevick.
Cassie was still half-convinced that there must be some mistake, but no. There was an elegant PA, who was obviously expecting her, and who escorted her into an impressively swish office.
‘Mr Trevelyan won’t be a minute,’ she said.
Mr Trevelyan! Cassie thought of the surly tearaway she had known and tried not to goggle. She hoped Jake—sorry, Mr Trevelyan—didn’t remember her flirting with him in that tacky dress or telling him that she never wanted to see him again. It wasn’t exactly the best basis on which to build a winning client-relationship.
On the other hand, he was the one who had asked to see her. Surely he wouldn’t have done that if he had any memory of those disastrous kisses? Joss must be right; he had probably forgotten them completely. And, even if he hadn’t, he was unlikely to mention that he had kissed her in front of his fiancée, wasn’t he? He would be just as anxious as her to pretend that that had never happened.
Reassured, Cassie pinned on a bright smile as his PA opened a door into an even swisher office than the first. ‘Cassandra Grey,’ the woman announced.
It was a huge room, with glass walls on two sides that offered a spectacular view down the Thames to the Houses of Parliament and the London Eye.
Not that Cassie took in the view. She had eyes only for Jake, who was getting up from behind his desk and buttoning his jacket as he came round to greet her.
Her first thought was that he had grown into a surprisingly attractive man.
Ten years ago he had been a wiry young man, with turbulent eyes and a dangerous edge that had always left her tongue-tied and nervous around him. He was dark still, and there were traces of the difficult boy he had been in his face, but he had grown into the once-beaky features,