Finally, she fell back asleep, the pit in her stomach eating away at her.
When she woke up to the sun streaming through her window, she found a new message. From Grant Abbott.
It was a beautiful day in Hong Kong. It was made even lovelier by the executed copies of our partnership. Little pleases me more than a well-done deal. (Well, perhaps a FEW things do please me more.) In any case, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again—I am delighted to be in business with you. This partnership will be fantastic for both our companies.
My best,
Grant
She breathed deeply as she pulled on workout clothes. It was a good thing that Grant had written to her. It was the necessary reminder of why she was spending more time than usual with Nate. So she could have a better chance of becoming the woman that the Grant Abbotts and Scott Nixons of the world would want. A woman who’d learned to rein in her controlling tendencies, her alpha female-ness.
Fine, even if Grant wasn’t writing to her about her, who cared? Either way, she was a woman on a mission. She was in hot pursuit of the big love, and the only way to get there would be to excise the parts of herself that had held her back from truly having it all. That was what Nate was helping her with.
Only that.
She contemplated heading to her gym for a swim. She’d been on the swim team in high school and still loved the water. But right now, she craved speed. Riding a bike in New York City required a determined sort of focus that would help clear her head. Heading to the basement of her building, she retrieved her wheels from the bike storage area, strapped on a helmet, and attacked the West Side Highway Bike Path, burning off the final remains of the waste of energy she’d let consume her last night. Jealousy was such a stupid, worthless emotion and there was no need for her to be envious whatsoever of Nate’s after-hours activities. She had no claim to him, and besides, he knew the score. He was merely training her to hand her off to someone else.
For a new start.
And a new start called for a new dress. Whether for Grant, or the next man who was suited for her.
After her workout, she’d go shopping. That would pass the time until the baseball game. She’d see Nate tonight, and she’d smile, having forgotten completely about the fact that he’d promised a photo. What photo? Who cared? Not her.
* * *
The emerald-green dress hugged her in all the right places, and her friend Jane agreed.
“That is a rocking dress,” Jane said, nodding appreciatively as Casey stepped out of the dressing room of the boutique on Christopher Street. “It’s sexy, but it’s not over the top.”
“So I should get it? Is it first date material? Would you wear it if you were on a first date again with Matthew?”
Jane laughed, practically doubling over, then shook her head, her wild curly brown hair framing her face.
“Then why are you telling me to get it?” Casey asked, parking her hands on her hips.
“That’s not what I’m laughing at. I’m laughing because it’s been more than three years since I had a first date with Matthew, and we didn’t even technically date. We went from him interviewing me for a story about my music to sleeping together,” her friend said. Jane was a rock star. Literally. She’d won a Grammy three years ago for a hit album, and had continued churning out top-notch, and top-selling tunes.
“You’re no help then,” Casey said, teasing, as she checked out her reflection in the store’s mirror. The dress hit her above the knees, and had a soft flare to the skirt. It was suggestive, but not inappropriate, and that’s what she liked about it.
“Just ask your BGF,” Jane offered.
Casey shot her a curious look. “Gay Best Friend?”
“No. That would be GBF. I mean BGF.” Jane snapped a few times, like she was trying to recall something. “You know, that guy Nate. Your Best Guy Friend.”
Casey felt a flush spread through her cheeks when Jane said his name. She didn’t know if it was due to the heat, or the secret almost-sex, or the fact that she still hadn’t heard from him. Odd, since they were supposed to be going to the ballpark in eight hours.
“Send him a pic and ask his opinion if you don’t believe me.”
She waved her hand to shut down that idea. “No. I don’t want to send him a picture,” she said.
“Why not? Isn’t that the point of a best guy friend?”
Jane was right. It was the point, or one of the points, but it was also what Casey should be doing instead of wondering why he hadn’t called or sent a picture. Normal. She had to keep things normal with Nate.
Casey handed her phone to Jane. “Take a picture of me.”
She struck a pose—a simple, friendly pose—and texted it to Nate.
Should I wear this on a date with Grant? Yes or no?
Then, because this is what she would have done if she weren’t sleeping with him, she called him.
He sounded pissed when he answered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Washington D.C, Morning…
from: [email protected]
date: June 11, 6:04 AM
subject: Trying to reach you
Dear Nate,
I hope this note finds you well. I’m thrilled that everything seems to be going swimmingly at The Luxe. It makes me so happy to see you thriving in your career, but then I always knew that you would do great things. I tried to call you earlier this week but I haven’t heard back, so I’m emailing you at your work address. I hope you don’t mind. But there is something important that I need to discuss with you. I would greatly appreciate it if you could give me a ring. I’ll try you again soon.