“Here, let me help you.” He reached over, pulling the belt over my head. “You have to put your arms through—yeah. Like that.” His eyes met mine, and it was the closest we’d ever been. His hands brushing against my blouse as he tightened the straps. His mouth, just inches from mine, his breath soft and warm against my lips.
“You smell good,” he said quietly. “Really good.”
With another man, this would be my moment. I’d grip his shirt. Let my eyes go soft, my lips part. Run my hand down to cup the bulge in his pants.
But this wasn’t another man, and with William, he had to be the one to initiate things, or else I would never land him. I glanced down as if shy. “Thank you. And thank you for giving me a ride. I don’t know what’s wrong with my car.”
He straightened up and reclipped his own belt. “We’re going to the same place. It’s no trouble. And if we didn’t have this team meeting, I’d take a look at it.” He frowned. “But Matt’s good with cars, right? Didn’t he restore that Corvette himself?”
Ugh. That Corvette. Ihatedthat stupid muscle car. It was one thing to drive it around our old middle-class neighborhood, but he insisted we take it out on Atherton dates as well. “He did,” I said lightly. “But I called the dealership. They’re going to tow mine in and fix it under warranty. Do you mind bringing me to work for the next few days? I can get Matt to give me a ride home.”
There was the sort of pause that a man makes when he doesn’t want to say no but shouldn’t say yes. Ned Plymouth once made that pause. It didn’t turn out well for him.
“A few days?” He stalled. This hesitation was Cat, I knew it. I’d heard her in the background, huffing and puffing when I’d called—in an almost tearful panic—asking him for a ride.
“They said it should be fixed by Thursday, Friday at the latest.” The dealership, which hadn’t batted an eye when I told them I would be towing in my car for a full-service detail, had promised a twenty-four-hour turnaround time. I had pushed back, telling them to keep it until Friday, a directive they had happily accepted. “Thank you so much.” I sighed in relief, taking the assumptive approach and silently daring him to combat it. “Can you believe this warm front we’ve had? It’s amazing.”
He paused, and I could feel him weighing whether to continue the conversation or let it ride. “Yeah, it’s been nice.” He shifted, putting the powerful car into second as he pulled out of our drive.
We moved around the curve, and I looked back at their estate, unsurprised to see Cat watching us from the front balcony, her arms crossed over her chest. It had been a risky move, the carpool play. But I needed some time with him away from the office. Inside that fishbowl, his guard was up and eyes were everywhere. Alone in this car, I could reach over and grab his hand and no one would know. We could kiss.
Not that I would do any of that yet. It was only Monday. I had an entire week to get him to let his prickly guard down a little. Who knew what things could look like by Friday?
William upshifted into third, and his hand brushed against my bare knee. I didn’t move it away, and he kept his grip on the gearshift, our bodies connected through the contact. The breath tumbled out of him and, against my knee, the edge of his pinkie moved in just the slightest, smallest way. I knotted my hands in my lap as if I were nervous and turned my head to look out the window. I settled deeper in the seat, opening my thighs and stretching out my legs, inviting—begging him for—more.
After a long moment, his finger moved again. Farther this time, a drag of his index finger upward along my knee. This was it. William Winthorpe wastouchingme. Practically caressing me. It had taken over seven weeks of me working at Winthorpe. Slow-growing chemistry. Longer looks. Casual run-ins that I spent all day engineering. All worth it for this moment—the first crack in the facade of his monogamy. After this, things would be easy, a crumble of resistance until we were both undressed and William was falling fully into my trap.
Inside, my emotions warred between the possibilities he held. Maybe my fantasies over grilled cheese were possible, and he’d fall in love and make me the next Mrs. Winthorpe.
Maybe this would be just sex and pay off in orgasms and emotional superiority over Cat, followed quickly by blackmailing William and a big financial payday.
I didn’t really care which path the trap took. I needed another stepping-stone up in the world, and William would give it to me. With or without love. With or without a wife by his side, or a husband at mine.
This was a chess match over my future, and—as with Ned—I was going to win.
CHAPTER 18
CAT
We built the Winthorpe Tech offices to suit our industry. Sleek, expensive, and highly functional. I was walking through the front doors when my cell hummed with a call from Tom Beck. I paused in front of the security desk, then took a seat at one of the lobby seating arrangements that overlooked the lake. Glancing around, I made sure I was alone, then answered the call.
Tom Beck dived right in. “Ned Plymouth has ignored my calls, but his new receptionist has been very helpful. Are you somewhere where you can view an email?”
I dug into my bag and pulled out my tablet, opening up my email and refreshing the in-box. “You’ve already sent it to me?”
“Just did.”
The email appeared, and I opened it, then clicked on the attachment. “What is this?”
“It’s a termination-of-employment contract.”
I paused, the title sinking in. “I thought Neena quit that job to take this one.”
“Part of this contract stipulates that they will continue her employment until she finds another job, provided that she does so within six months. But, during that time, she is not allowed on company grounds or to have any contact with Ned Plymouth, any of his employees or partners, or any member of his family, including his wife.”
My stomach flipped with an odd combination of dread over what this meant to Winthorpe Tech and glee over the find. I scrolled down the page. “So, she gets the appearance of a friendly parting, and he gets ... what?”
“Aside from the absence of contact, she also signed a nondisclosure agreement that forbade her from discussing anything that ever happened on Plymouth property or with Ned Plymouth.”