A Man You Can Trust

Chapter Two

Nick West knew he’d startled the woman, but he was just trying to be funny. It was a joke. He figured the auburn-haired stranger would jump, then they’d both have a good laugh as he introduced himself. Humor was always a good icebreaker, right?

He never figured she’d send a stapler flying at his head.

He managed to swat it down before it connected with his face, but it ricocheted off the corner of his desk and smacked him in the shin.

“Ow!” He hopped on one leg. “Damn, woman! I was just kidding around.” He rubbed his throbbing shin, unable to keep from laughing at the way his joke had backfired on him.

But the woman wasn’t laughing. She was wide-eyed and pale, her chest rising and falling sharply. Her eyes were an interesting mix of green and gold. Her hair was a mix, too—not quite red, but more than just brown. It was pulled back off her face and into a low ponytail. She was pretty, in a fresh-scrubbed, natural way. Then he noticed her hand, which was clutching a pair of scissors like she was getting ready to go all Norman Bates on him.

The desk was still between them, but he raised his hands as if she was holding a loaded gun. He’d already seen how good her aim was.

“Whoa, there! Let’s dial it back a notch, okay? I’m Nick West and this is my office...I think. Am I in the wrong place?” The thought didn’t occur to him until he said it out loud. Shit. Had he just burst into some woman’s office and scared the bejesus out of her? What if this was the boss’s wife? He’d heard Randall’s wife was involved in the resorts somehow. Even if it wasn’t her, traumatizing a coworker wasn’t a good way to start his first day here.

The hand holding the scissors lowered and color came back to her previously white knuckles. She lifted her chin, but it trembled, and there was genuine fear in her eyes. It made him feel like a jerk.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was kidding around. I do that sometimes.”

“You scared the hell out of me, and you did it on purpose!” Those green-gold eyes flashed in anger. “Is that how you plan on introducing yourself to everyone here? Because I’ve got news for you—it won’t go over well.” She reached up to push her hair behind her ear and took a steadying breath. “This is your office, Mr. West. I’m Cassie...um...Smith, and I’ll be working with you. I was setting up your desk.”

Great. He’d never had a secretary before, and he’d just traumatized the first one he got. Smooth move, West. He grunted out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to fix this mess.

“Let’s rewind and start over, okay? You’re my first secretary.” He stopped when her eyes narrowed. “What? What’d I say wrong now?”

“I am not your secretary. I’m Mr. Randall’s executive assistant, and I’ll be supporting you with some of your projects. I’ll provide data. I’ll run reports. But I don’t take dictation and I won’t be fetching your damned coffee.”

Well, well, well. The jumpy lady had a backbone after all. Nick knew how to be a good cop. He had no damned clue how to be a good executive.

“Not a secretary. Got it. Like I said, I’m new at this corporate thing. In LA, I had a dispatcher and a desk sergeant. Something tells me you’ll be closer to the latter.” He nodded down to her hand. “I’d be a lot happier if you’d put those down.”

Cassie looked down and appeared surprised to see the scissors still in her hand. She dropped them to the desk like they were burning her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She continued to look down, lost in thought.

Her body language was all over the place, causing his cop’s sixth sense to kick in. First she was jumpy and defensive. Then proud and outspoken. And now, as she apologized, she visibly shrank. He didn’t like timid women. They reminded him of victims, and he’d had his fill of victims. But then again, victims didn’t fling staplers at people’s heads.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “That was a juvenile thing for me to do. I gotta remember I’m not in a police precinct anymore.” And he’d never be in one again. He rubbed his thigh absently. Shoving that thought aside, he flashed her a rueful grin. “I’ll probably need your help monitoring my corporate behavior.”

She nodded, not returning the smile, but straightening a bit. “I don’t like practical jokes, but I’m sure you’ll do fine here. It’s a good group of people, and they like to have fun.”

Interesting. She said they like to have fun, not we. He looked around the office. He’d barely noticed it yesterday, just dropping off his boxes and checking in to his room to crash after the long cross-country drive. The view of Gallant Lake was sweet. The giant flat-screen on the wall with all the changing camera feeds was even sweeter. He saw the photo on the bookshelf and blinked. Jada. It was her death that chased him out of LA and into this new life. The picture was a reminder of how quickly good things could go bad.

A large hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and Nick restrained himself from spinning around swinging. Old habits were hard to break. In this case, it would have been especially bad, since it was his new boss.

“Sorry I missed your arrival, Nick. We had a guest giving the desk staff a hard time about the five movies on his room bill. Turns out his ten-year-old has a thing for superheroes and didn’t realize movies are fifteen bucks a pop.” There weren’t many men who could make Nick tip his head back and look up, but Blake Randall was one of them. He was a few years older than Nick, but he had no doubt Randall could hold his own in a physical challenge. Blake spotted Cassie on the other side of the desk. “Oh, good, you’ve met Cassie. You’re going to want to treat this girl right because she’s the one who can make or break you, man.”

Nick met Cassie’s gaze. Her moods were as changeable as her eyes. Now that Blake was here, she was clearly more relaxed.

...she’s the one who can make or break you...

Even after Blake’s warning, Nick couldn’t resist teasing her.

“Oh, don’t worry, Blake. Cassie’s made quite an impression already.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “She’s already throwing things...I mean...ideas...at me.” Her hands clenched into fists, and he was surprised his skin wasn’t blistering under the heat of her glare. “She even took a stab at trying to define her job responsibilities.”

Blake was oblivious to the tension buzzing in the room. “Trust me, there is no way to define her job duties. Cassie’s always surprising you by doing more than expected.” Nick’s smirk grew into a wide smile.

“Yeah, she’s full of surprises. Oh, look, the stapler fell off the desk.” He bent over to pick it up from where it had landed earlier. He couldn’t help wondering if exposing his back to the woman, with scissors still nearby, was a good idea. “We don’t want the boss to think you were throwing things at me, now, do we?”

“No, we don’t.” She watched as he set the stapler on the desk. Her voice was cold as ice. “But Blake knows me well enough to know I’d never launch an unprovoked attack.”

Nick looked up in surprise. Touché. She was playing along. He winked at her, and a little crease appeared between her brows.

Blake chuckled behind him. “I can’t imagine Cassie throwing things at anyone.” Her cheeks went pink, but Blake didn’t seem to notice. “Come on, Nick, let’s grab lunch and I’ll make some introductions. Would you like to join us, Cass?”

“No, thanks. I have work to do. You and Mr. West go ahead and...”

“Mr. West?” Blake looked at Nick and frowned. “We’re on a first-name basis up here, Nick.”

“No problem. Cassie and I were joking around earlier and she’s just trying to get a rise out of me.” Now it was her turn to be surprised. She looked at him and her mouth opened, but she didn’t speak.

For the first time, Blake seemed to pick up on the undercurrent of...something...that was swirling around them.

“Really?” He looked at Cassie with clear surprise. Apparently she wasn’t known for cracking jokes. She gave Blake a quick nod and smiled. It was the first smile Nick had seen from her, and it was worth waiting for, even if it was aimed at someone else. Her whole face softened, and her eyes went more green than gold.

“You two go on to lunch, and let me get back to work, okay?”

His curiosity was definitely piqued. Cassie Smith had a story.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Cassie was still trying to put a finger on her riled-up emotions. It started before Nick West’s arrival, so she couldn’t place all the blame on him for this low rumble of frustration and anger that simmered in her. In no mood to deal with her tangled hair, she pulled it into a messy knot on top of her head and frowned at the mirror. Simple khakis, sensible shoes and a dark green Gallant Lake polo shirt. Practical attire for a busy day. She was giving Nick a tour of the grounds today and wanted to be able to keep up with his long strides.

The man was always in motion, leaving her constantly on edge. He paced when he talked and bounced when he sat. He had a foam basketball that he tossed around his office when he was alone in there, and it drove her crazy. Yesterday she’d moved her computer so her back was to his door, trying to avoid the distraction of the ball flying through the air. Nick started laughing the minute he walked into the office and saw the new arrangement, and laughed every time he walked by. Jerk.

She went downstairs in the loft apartment and poured herself a cup of tea, adding three spoonfuls of sugar. She usually joined Nora in the coffee shop before heading to the resort, but Nora had her hands full watching Amanda and Blake’s teenaged son and toddler daughter this week. Mel might be down in the shop, but it was more likely Amanda’s other cousin would be enjoying her coffee with her fiancé on the deck of their waterfront home. So Cassie fixed herself a bagel and sat at the kitchen island, feeling almost as restless as Nick West.

Ugh! She’d known the man only three days, and he was in her head constantly. His big laugh when he was kidding around with employees—who all seemed to adore both him and his practical jokes. The way he started every conversation with a booming “Hey! Whatcha doing?” The way he rapped the corner of everyone’s desk sharply with his knuckles every time he passed it. Except hers. After the first time he did it and she’d squeaked in surprise, he’d left her desk alone.

But she hadn’t managed to stop his infuriating running joke of putting her stapler—the bright blue one she’d flung at him on their first meeting—in a different place every day. Monday afternoon she’d found it on her chair. Tuesday, it was next to the coffee maker. And yesterday, when she attended a meeting in the surveillance room with Nick and the entire security staff, the blue stapler was sitting on the circular console that faced the wall of monitors. She spotted it immediately and turned to glare at him, only to find him laughing at her. Ass.

Sure enough, when she walked into the office later that morning, the stapler was sitting next to a small vase of daffodils on her desk. Wait. Where did the daffodils come from? The sunny flowers were in a simple vase, which on closer inspection turned out to be a water glass.

“They reminded me of you, slugger.”

Nick West was leaning against the doorway to his office. He’d taken his jacket and tie off and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. That was his usual uniform during the day. He always looked ready for action.

“Excuse me?”

“You know—sunny and bright and happy?” He was baiting her. Yesterday, he’d asked her why she was so serious all the time. Deciding the misogynistic question didn’t deserve an answer, she’d walked away, but she should have known he wouldn’t drop it. She dropped her purse into a drawer and clarified her comment.

“I was referring to the ‘slugger’ part.”

“Well, you’ve got pretty good aim with that arm of yours, and you’re a fighter. Slugger seems to fit you.”

Cassie’s breath caught in her throat. He thought she was a fighter?

“And what should I call you? Ducky, for how fast you dodged the stapler?” He gave her an odd look, somewhere between surprise and admiration. Then his face scrunched up.

“Ducky is a hard pass. Let’s stick with Nick.”

She looked at the flowers. “Please tell me the director of security didn’t steal these flowers from the garden in front of the resort.”

Nick winked at her. He was a big winker. She did her best to tell herself those twinkling brown eyes of his had no effect on her. “They actually haven’t left the property, so at best, the director of security has just misappropriated them. I think they look nice there, don’t you?” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure a cheating accountant thinks misappropriated funds look nice in his bank account, too, but that doesn’t make it any less a crime.”

He barked out a loud laugh. “And here I thought I left all the attorneys back in LA. You missed your calling.” He turned back to his office, but stopped cold when she called out.

“Oh, Mr. West?” His exaggerated slow turn almost made her laugh out loud, and she hadn’t done that in a long time. He admittedly had a goofy charm. “Don’t forget the stapler. You seem to prefer mine to the one you have in your office, so maybe we should switch.” She picked it up and tossed it gently in his direction, surprised at her own moxie. He was equally surprised, catching the stapler with one hand. She nodded at the daffodils. “And thank you for the stolen goods.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Just following orders. Blake told me to treat you right, remember?”

Cassie rolled her eyes again and turned away, ignoring his chuckle behind her.

A couple hours later, Nick was surprisingly all business during their tour of the grounds, jotting notes on his tablet and snapping pictures. It was a gorgeous early May day, warming dramatically from earlier in the week. A breeze raised gentle waves on the lake, which were shushing against the shoreline.

They started by walking around the exterior of Blake and Amanda’s home, a rambling stone castle named Halcyon, then worked their way down the hill past the resort, all the way to the golf course that hugged the shoreline. The entire complex, including the residence, covered over one hundred acres, and by lunchtime, Cassie felt as though they’d walked every one of them.

She rattled off anecdotes as they walked. Nick’s security staff had been showing him around all week, but Blake instructed her, in his absence, to give Nick a tour that included the stories behind the business. This place, with lots of help from Amanda, had changed Blake’s life. He wanted his employees to understand its importance. Nick listened and nodded, busy with his notes.

She told him the history of Halcyon and how close the mansion had come to being destroyed, along with the resort. The rebirth of the resort, thanks to Amanda’s designer eye and Blake’s hotel fortune. The coinciding growth of the town of Gallant Lake, where most of the employees lived and many guests shopped and dined. The upscale weddings the resort specialized in, often for well-heeled Manhattanites. And the new championship golf course, already home to several prominent charity tournaments.

He glanced at her several times as they headed back from the golf course, but she was careful not to make eye contact. His chocolate eyes had a way of knocking her thoughts off track. The waves were larger now that the wind had picked up. Above them was the sprawling clubhouse, a stunning blend of glass and timber, with a slate tile roof.

“Where’s the best place to launch a kayak around here?”

“What?”

“I want to get my kayak in the water this weekend, and my rental doesn’t have a dock yet. Does the resort have a launch site?”

Cassie stopped walking and looked at him, brushing away the stray strands of hair that blew across her face. She knew her mouth had fallen open, but it took her a moment to actually speak.

“You’re asking me about kayaking?”

“You live in a mountain town. You must do something outdoors. Are there mountain bike trails here? Places to rock climb?”

Her chest jumped and it startled her so much she put her hand over her heart. That had been dangerously close to a laugh. She shook her head. “You are definitely asking the wrong person. I’m sure those things exist around here, but I don’t know anything about them. You should ask Terry at the front desk—he’s outdoorsy.”

“Outdoorsy?” His shoulders straightened. “I’m not ‘outdoorsy.’ I enjoy outdoor activities. There’s a difference.”

“And that difference would be?”

Nick stuttered for a minute, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. But it’s different, trust me. You’ve never kayaked here?”

“Uh...no. My idea of a good time is curling up with a book and a cup of tea.”

He shook his head. “Well, that’s just sad. I’ll think of you tomorrow night when I’m out on the water taking in the scenery and you’re stuck at home reading some boring book.”

She turned away and started walking. “I’m working tomorrow night.”

“Yeah? On a Friday night?”

“There’s a big wedding this weekend, and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow. One of our events people is on vacation, so I’m helping our manager make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“The manager is Julie, right? I spent yesterday afternoon with her. She seems on top of things.” Cassie nodded. Julie Brown was nice. If Cassie was sure she’d be staying in Gallant Lake, they’d probably be better friends. But she couldn’t afford to get too comfortable. Nick, walking at her side, shook his head with a smile. “Blake wasn’t kidding when he said you don’t have a defined job description—you’re everywhere.”

“I’m wherever I’m needed. That’s my job description.”

He studied her intently, then shrugged.

“Hey, if you’d rather work than join me on the water, that’s your loss.”

This laughing whirlwind of a man was making her crazy. Because for just a moment, she wondered if it really would be her loss if she didn’t go kayaking with him.

She quickly dismissed the thought. Her in a kayak with Nick West? Not happening.

Chapter Three

Nick leaned back in his office chair, turning away from the security feeds to watch Cassie through the open door. She was on the phone with someone, typing furiously and glancing at the schedule on the tablet propped up on the desk by her computer. The woman could seriously multitask. Was she the calm, cool professional he saw right now? Or was she the meek woman who’d flinched when he’d dropped a pile of papers on her desk this morning? Was she the woman who got uptight if there were more than a couple people in a room? Or was she the woman he saw yesterday, giving him a tour of the property with pride and confidence?

He’d checked her employee file—a perk of his job title. The information was pretty thin. She’d been here only a few months. She’d managed an insurance office in Milwaukee for a while but had been unemployed for over a year before moving here six months ago. Not exactly a red flag. She could have been going to school or job hunting or whatever. She’d clearly won Blake Randall’s confidence, but she didn’t give off a sense of having a lot of confidence in herself. Instead, Cassie seemed all twisted up with anxiety. Unless she was busy. Then she was cool and...controlled. It was as if being productive was her comfort zone.

She hung up the phone, then immediately dialed someone else. Her back was to him, ramrod straight. Her auburn hair was gathered in a knot at the base of her slender neck. He wondered what she’d look like if she ever let that hair loose. She was dressed in dark trousers and a pale blue sweater. Sensible. Practical. Almost calculatedly so. He grimaced. This was what happened when you spent eight years as a detective—you started profiling everyone you met.

“Margo? It’s Cassandra Smith, Mr. Randall’s assistant. Did you see the email I sent you last week? I didn’t receive a reply and thought perhaps you missed it...”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. There was an edge to Cassie’s voice he hadn’t heard until now. She was a whole new person. Again. He picked up his foam basketball and started bouncing it off the wall by the doorway. He smirked when Cassie stiffened—the fact that she hated his throwing the ball around was half the fun of doing it.

“Yes... Well, if Mr. Randall saw these numbers, he’d definitely be concerned... Right. And if Mr. Randall is concerned, he might be on the next flight to Miami for a conversation... Exactly. The restaurant is consistently selling less alcohol than they’re ordering every week. That inventory has to be going somewhere... What’s that?... Oh, I see. The bartender had his own family restaurant and was ordering a little extra for himself? I’m assuming he’s no longer employed with us?” She was scribbling furiously on a notepad on her desk. “You know, Margo, you have access to the same reports I do, so you may want to start reading them more closely... I’m sure you will. I’m glad we had a chance to talk... Yes, you, too. Have a great weekend.”