Cassie's Grand Plan

Her career with Country Style since then, on the other hand, was likely to have been an open book to Ronan McGuire, especially the last four years she’d spent as operations manager and second in charge to Graham. He probably knew what she had for breakfast, Cassie thought grimly. The answer of course was nothing, and remembering that, she took a bite of her sandwich.

“That’s a long time to be with one organization,” he commented, one eyebrow raised in a way that caused a corresponding spike in Cassie’s blood pressure—much as she tried to ignore it. “Especially these days.”

Cassie chewed and swallowed. “How long have you been with the Conroy Corporation?” she asked, keen to dodge the spotlight while she considered how to respond. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to gauge her passion for the business or hinting that she had limited herself by not broadening her experience. Cassie had the strong feeling that every question he asked had an ulterior motive, no matter how innocent it might seem on the surface.

One side of his mouth cocked up in a crooked smile. “Ah, you have me there. I joined the company right after college and I’m about to become a partner.” His eyes grew harder with something Cassie couldn’t quite identify and she wondered why. Shouldn’t he be proud? The emotion, whatever it was, was gone again in a flash.

“Where are you based?” she asked.

“San Francisco,” he replied in clipped tones, letting her know that the subject was effectively closed. “So, what’s kept you at Country Style for eleven years?”

He was persistent, she’d give him that. “I love it here,” she said simply. It was far, far more than that, but there was no way she was going into it all with a stranger.

Besides, it was none of his business.

“You’ve arranged a site tour?” he asked, pointing at the documents Mel had left behind, and Cassie was thankful he changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

He took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed without breaking their shared gaze. For some reason, watching his jaw move was incredibly distracting. It started Cassie thinking about his mouth, his lips and then his tongue; she hurriedly looked down and took another bite of her own sandwich before he could read the blush she knew was stealing across her face.

What on earth was wrong with her? Thinking about this man as anything other than her judge and jury—her potential executioner—was a recipe for disaster. Developing a crush on him was the stupidest idea from Stupidtown. Cassie had to stay on guard. Besides, anything like those belonged to Part Three of the Plan, and she was a long way from that.

The Plan-with-a-capital-P was simple enough. She’d come up with it when she’d found herself at home, alone, on New Year’s Eve. Sitting there by herself had felt as if the rest of the world had learned some lesson that she’d somehow skipped. How could she have got to twenty-eight years old and have such a narrow life? All she did was work, eat and sleep. She was friendly with people from work, but rarely socialized. And when everyone else was occupied with their family, or away with their real friends, Cassie was by herself. Suddenly feeling very alone.

Clearly, something needed to be done, and for that she needed a plan.

Part One—secure her future with Country Style. That was most important. It was her life, her home, her family. Her foundation in the world. It came first. That’s why she’d spent two weeks researching and writing a report for Graham—analyzing the marketplace, proposing expansion options, showing him how much she cared for this company and what she could do for it—if he’d just give her the chance. It was exciting—Cassie felt a thrill of anticipation whenever she thought about the business’s future with her leading it—but it was only Part One. When Ronan’s analysis ratified her proposal to become CEO, and Graham adopted it, she’d be able to relax. She’d be able to take her eye off the ball just for a moment, and get some other areas of her life sorted out.

Part Two was to do something about herself—address her admittedly plain appearance. She’d planned to call on Mel’s help for that. Some new clothes, maybe a new haircut. Perhaps learn how to use eyeliner so she didn’t end up looking like a panda. Nothing too dramatic—this wasn’t Pygmalion—but just make the best of what she had. She knew she was okay looking, and if she could learn to tame her unruly locks, her hair could become an asset instead of a nuisance. Her hourglass figure wasn’t what most fashion designers had in mind when they made clothes, it seemed, but she’d put a little money aside and that could be used to buy some new clothes that flattered—instead of swamped—her curves.

Part Three was to get herself a love life—see if she could meet a guy who would finally be The One. She wasn’t entirely sure how to go about that as yet, but she did have a reasonably good picture of what The One looked like for her. Not in terms of looks—that wasn’t so important. But he’d be the kind of guy who’d support her career. The kind of guy who took out the rubbish without being asked. Most important, the kind of guy who’d make her feel safe.

Part Four—well, Part Four of the plan was still murky. But basically it was take Parts One, Two and Three, mix well, and hopefully create a family. A nice, neat little family of her own—they would always be there for her, and she’d always be there for them.

A nice home, a caring partner, a rewarding job and a couple of kids.

Was it really too much to ask?

Cassie didn’t think so.

But right now, Part One had to be her focus. She shouldn’t be sitting here dreaming about Part Three, let alone Part Four.

Not to mention the fact that Ronan McGuire was absolutely the last person for her, regardless of how arousing she found his sandwich eating. She needed someone soft and gentle. Someone who made her feel secure in herself, not poised on a knife-edge the way she’d felt ever since he’d turned up.

Suddenly the tour of stores she’d arranged seemed like a special kind of torture. Cassie was signing herself up to spend almost a week in close quarters with a man who made her all kinds of hot and bothered. A man who reminded her of physical reactions she had gone a long time without. A man who at the same time threatened the very foundations of her life’s work.

“So, are you going to share the details with me or is it a surprise? A magical mystery tour?”

His mocking tone made Cassie wonder if he had somehow read her mind.

What had they been talking about again? Oh, yeah, the site tour. She took a deep breath to lend strength to her voice. “I thought the best way for you to get a handle on the scope of the business would be to visit some of our stores. You can meet our staff, look at the merchandising and the layout and get a better understanding of our customer base.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Melanie returned and placed a small pile of documents in front of Cassie. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned low over the table. Subtle as a brick. Cassie could just imagine the view Ronan had down Melanie’s silk blouse.

“If you’d like, Cassie,” Melanie purred, “I can take you and Ronan through this, explain how I’ve organized the flights and—”

“Thanks, Mel, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got it,” Cassie interrupted, giving Melanie a firm smile that clearly communicated “go away.” Melanie’s foolish and obvious flirting was just the push Cassie needed to get serious.

All the thoughts that had kept her awake the night before flooded back as Mel gave another flirty smile and flounced from the room.

Despite the loyalty Cassie had shown, Graham was a businessman and his decisions were always impersonal when it came to making money. Cassie knew she’d worked hard, she knew that Conroy Corporation would find no evidence of mismanagement or incompetence in her record. But Ronan was right—she’d never been employed anywhere else. What if putting her in charge cost Country Style the opportunity to grow? What if that was more important to Graham than the loyalty she’d shown him for eleven years?

What if Graham decided it was in her best interests to move on? What if he asked her to leave?

Cassie could have sworn the ground shifted underfoot at the very thought. In reality she knew it wasn’t an earthquake, just her own hard-earned sense of security being shaken, but her stomach swooped anyway.

It would be the end of her dreams of becoming CEO and Part One of her plan would come crashing down around her head.

Really, it meant the end of everything—because, quite frankly, what else did she have?

“Flights? So we’ll be going further afield than Melbourne?” Ronan asked, bringing Cassie back to the issue at hand. Site visits.

She willed her voice to come out steady. “Yes. Although our headquarters is based here, we actually have more stores in New South Wales right now. And Fremantle is one of our newest stores—we’ve been able to benefit from the real estate peak in Western Australia, and business there is booming,” Cassie explained.

“Western Australia,” he mused, “isn’t that on the other side of the country?”

“Yes, but it only takes four hours to fly there.” Cassie pointed at the documents, where their flight schedules were detailed. “Graham said you’d be here for a week, so I thought this would be the best approach. You’ll get to see our stores in operation, and still be back here for the opening next Monday. Traveling will take up quite a bit of time, but you can read the reports and go over our financials during the flights. I think it will be worth the investment—there’s no better way to understand the business.”

“And what if I have questions I need to ask you?”

Cassie was confused by the question for a moment, but then she realized he didn’t understand. “Then you can ask them. I’m coming with you.”

He straightened in his chair and another of those hard, emotionless looks that Cassie couldn’t quite identify came into his eyes.

“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” In contrast to the pleasant, if occasionally condescending, manner he’d been using all morning, his tone was cold. “I don’t need to talk to you in detail again until next week. I prefer to work alone.”

No, sir, Cassie thought. No way was she letting the man who’d be deciding her future out of her sight for a minute.

Except for maybe when he slept.

And then her brain supplied an image of Ronan McGuire lying in bed, a crisp white sheet gathered at his waist, his chest bare and those dark eyelashes fanned on his cheeks.

Was the air conditioning working?

Get a grip! Cassie scolded herself. What happened to getting serious?

She straightened her shoulders and screwed up her courage. Her entire life was riding on these next few days and she was going to do everything in her power to get the outcome she wanted.