Going Down Hard(47)

“Something smells good.”

She placed a plate on the table, then turned to face him, wearing a long tee shirt, her bare legs peeking out, and a bright smile on her face. “Morning.” She settled into the chair at her small table.

“Morning.”

“Have a seat and dig in.” She gestured to the pancakes and orange juice at his place setting.

He happily complied, inhaling the warm scent. “I can’t remember the last home-cooked breakfast I had.”

“You’ve been deprived. I’ll have to make it up to you.” She winked and began cutting into her breakfast. “I’m starving.”

“Because you worked up an appetite last night.”

Her gaze shot to his, her cheeks flushing, her eyes darkening at the memory. “Yes, I did.”

They paused to eat, him smothering his with maple syrup. The food was as fantastic as the aroma. “You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you.” She placed her fork down and met his gaze. “So I need to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead.”

She shook her head. “It’s a touchy subject for you.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Okay…”

“I’ve been collecting a lot of good information for the kind of article I want to run. I can delve deep into your college years, the creation of Blink, and how you run the company. I’ve even got your charitable contributions down too. But…” She paused to lift her glass and take a sip of juice. “Something’s missing,” she said, placing the cup on the table.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “And what would that be?”

“Your childhood,” she said bluntly. “I’d like your permission for me to call some of your old teachers, and I’d like to meet with your mother and sister,” she said on a long breath.

She was right. It was touchy. His initial, gut instinct screamed a loud no. Of course, she could call teachers without asking him, so he appreciated the fact that she’d asked him first. But that wasn’t the sensitive part of her request.

His mother.

His sister could handle a conversation with Cassie. Brenda was married and had a two-year-old daughter. She’d always been a straight shooter, and Derek didn’t have an issue there.

“Derek?” Cassie broke into his thoughts. “I’m not going to upset her. I won’t ask about the circumstances of her leaving my parents’ employ. I just want to know about you as a kid.”

He understood why she needed to do it, and he understood that if he said no, he was ruining any further chances between them. She’d forgiven him each time he’d been an outright asshole because she’d mentioned his parents or the status differences between their families had come up. But she’d flat out told him to get over it or walk away.

Which meant it all came down to trust. Did he trust Cassie not to bring up the touchy parts of his mother’s past? Yes. He did. Was he ready for her to talk to his mother, to have those two parts of his life come together?

“Okay,” he said, surprising even himself at how quickly he’d answered those internal questions.

Her eyes opened wide. She obviously hadn’t expected such a fast or simple answer. “Thank you.” She jumped up, coming around to his side of the table to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a hug. “I know how difficult it was for you to agree to. And I appreciate your faith in me. I really do.”

He breathed in her scent, allowing her nearness to calm his rapidly beating heart. Because no matter how much he trusted Cassie, allowing anyone to ask questions and dig into the most personal parts of his life just wasn’t comfortable.

“I’ll need to talk to my mother, give her a heads-up, and set it up,” he said as Cassie untangled herself from him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she assured him.

He blew out a shaky breath. Though he knew his mother would be happy to meet with Cassie, Derek still needed time to prepare himself. Because allowing the two women he was closest to to meet spoke more about his feelings for Cassie than he was ready or willing to admit.

Chapter Ten

Later in the week, Cassie waited at her mother’s favorite restaurant in Manhattan. In between going to her own office, writing some catch-up articles, and shadowing Derek when he had different things on his agenda for her to see—meetings with developers and investors he didn’t mind her sitting in on as long as she signed a confidentiality agreement on the details—she called her mother and asked her to meet for lunch.