Gold Shimmer (13 page)

“W
hat are you talking about?” I ask, my gaze narrowing.

Celeste smiles. “I know your dad has been trying to get the zoning approval for his development expansion for a while. I might be able to help smooth the way for him.”

My ears buzz with the jump in my heart rate. My father getting the city’s approval would mean more than Celeste could ever know. It took me a couple years after Sophie’s death to convince my dad to continue forward with his plans to expand his business.

Even though I was just as devastated to wake up the morning after my horrible experience with Jake to discover my sister had died, I knew why she’d taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills at once. Her cryptic comments the night before finally made sense. She didn’t want her illness to ruin our family financially when her prognosis of surviving was so low. It took me a year to come to terms with her decision to leave us, and another ten months to help my father turn his guilt over her death into a mission to succeed no matter what.

Once my father got moving on his plans again, he went after the approval with all he had, but he kept hitting roadblocks with the zoning commission. He never gave up. Every year he tweaked his plan and every year he sought approval, only to be turned down. It got to the point, I dreaded when the opportunity rolled around for him each year. I always called that day, no matter where I was in the world. I knew exactly where he’d be—sitting in his office chair, proposal paperwork in the trash, a framed picture of Sophie in one hand, and a highball glass of Scotch in the other.

“Can you really help him get approved?”

Celeste lifts her shoulders. “I can’t guarantee approval, but I can try.”

Celeste might suck at blackmail, but she definitely knows how to dangle a carrot. “I see you’re becoming a politician just like your father,” I say, eyeing her skeptically.

Pressing her lips together, determination settles in her expression. “I’m familiar with what he’s been trying to get approved. I will draft my support for him tonight. Tell Mr. Rockwell to set up an appointment to pitch his proposal next week if he wishes. Oh, and don’t worry about the party, you won’t be facing a
total
group of strangers at this event. Calder Blake will be there.”

Just when I think things can’t possibly get any worse than my nemesis dangling hope for my father in exchange for her help, she expects me to spend the evening—as
her
—with the only guy I’ve ever wanted?

Fuck my life.

“Calder?” I say casually, my heart racing at the mere mention of his name.

Celeste straightens and props her arm on the top of the car door. “Yeah, I guess I have you to thank for introducing me to him…well, in a roundabout sort of way.”

And now I know why I never heard from Calder. If he contacted the
real
Celeste, then that means he must’ve figured out I was an imposter. Despite the heaviness that settles on my chest, I keep my tone light. “So you two have become friends?”
Please don’t tell me you’re sleeping with him. Please. Just. Don’t.

Celeste smiles. “You know…of the few parties Calder and I have attended together, I never really
saw
him before. But when he stopped by my house to apologize for losing my contact information, we talked and just clicked. We had lunch together after that, and then…” she pauses and exhales a sigh. “He’s delicious. I just want to bite that man every time I see him.”

Shit…he lost my email?
It’s possible. Phones crash, get lost, stolen. And of course Celeste didn’t bother to tell him she
wasn’t
the one he was with that night. He has no idea he’s dating a different person. I’ll bet she orgasms with him all the time.
Ugh, stop thinking about them having sex.
The idea makes me nauseous. Turning my gaze straight ahead, I grip the steering wheel and try to sound as disinterested as possible. “How great for you.”

“It will be once I get this appointment taken care of.”

What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait a few days? Actually, the answer isn’t my concern. “Well, it seems you’re none-the-worse for my part in your past, especially now that you’ve got a new man in your life because of it.”

Celeste nods. “Calder’s the
only
good thing to walk into my life lately. And seeing how he had his face in your
crotch
at the party, I’m pretty sure you’ll have no problem hosting him (platonically, of course) when he comes to the event on Saturday night to meet my father.”

The fact she’s reminding me not to screw her boyfriend while acting like what happened between Calder and me was just a trashy tryst, makes me grind my back teeth. Blinking back the sudden moisture in my eyes, I exhale an unsteady breath. The brief encounter I had with Calder meant
everything
to me. It meant I wasn’t a fucked-up, dispassionate freak. He showed me that buried somewhere inside me, I have the capacity to be a warm, involved lover. Too bad it hasn’t happened with anyone else since. He might be
my
solution, but apparently Celeste is his.

There’s no guarantee she’ll actually be able to help my dad, but there’s a one-hundred-percent guarantee that the thought of Celeste and Calder together will torture me all night long. There is only so much I can take, and I’ve just reached my limit.

“Congrats all the way around, Celeste. Good luck with life and all.”

I lean over to tug the door closed, my action forcing Celeste back so she doesn’t get crushed. I ignore her protests, completely tuning her out, but when my gaze lands on the tattooed word running along the inside of my outstretched forearm, I freeze.

Never.

It’s in a script font with trailing ends before and after the word. I’d gotten it to remind me
never
to give in to my cravings to cut again, and to never give up on
me
.

But isn’t that what I’m doing by saying ‘no?’ Am I really going to pass up the one and only chance I might get to tell Calder the truth?

Meeting Celeste’s panicked gaze, I blow out a breath “Okay, I’ll help you.”

“Really?” Her whole face lights up and she grabs my arm. “Thank you so much, Cass. Tell your father to make that appointment.” Releasing me, she smiles and clasps her hands excitedly. “Can you meet me here on Friday morning at nine? I’ll give you all the details you’ll need to know: pictures of family, employees, names, house layout, etc. Then we’ll set a time and place for you to pick up my car.”

Memorizing faces, who’s who and how I should know them, and an entire estate’s layout twenty-four hours before the event sounds
complicated
. There are so many ways I can trip myself up. I take a deep breath.
Helping your dad and also owning up to the past with Calder will be worth it, Cass.
Whether Calder forgives me or not remains to be seen, but at least I’ll have given it my best shot. “I can meet you on Friday,” I say, giving a firm nod.

“Great. I’ll see you then.” Celeste starts to walk away, but then quickly turns back. “Oh, one more thing. I’ve asked Calder to consider becoming my personal guard. I think he needs a little more convincing. He insisted on meeting my father, so this event is the perfect time for that. My father’s a tough sell on the idea, so it’ll help loads if you talk with him about Calder before the event to prepare him to meet with Calder. I think once Father meets him, he’ll agree. Calder’s SEAL training certainly speaks for itself.”

SEAL? He’s a freaking Navy SEAL? The fact I don’t know this says just how little I really know about Calder. Not that he was forthcoming with the information that night at the party, but I can’t believe Talia didn’t mention it. Then again, I haven’t talked to her about Calder, except for when she told me he might try to get in touch, and even then I acted laidback about it. My wandering thoughts suddenly stall as the implication of Celeste having a security person finally sinks in. “You
need
a bodyguard?”

“All the Carvers have a personal guard,” Celeste says, shrugging. “But I’ll admit to feeling as if someone’s been following me for a while. That’s why I think a new security person could be a good thing. Maybe a fresh set of eyes won’t gloss over my daily life surroundings. My current guard sucks. Anyway, back to the event. I can’t stress this enough—you mustn’t tell anybody what you’re doing for me, and under no circumstances can you reveal to anyone in my circle who you really are, including Calder, or this deal is off. Too much is riding on this. Do you understand?”

My heart sinks that her last directive rips away the deciding reason I agreed to this craziness in the first place. I had a glimmer of hope that Calder might possibly be able to forgive one deception, but now that I have to keep my mouth shut, that’ll be twice I’ve lied to him. If Celeste didn’t seem genuinely stressed about something, I’d think
this
was her ultimate revenge for me embarrassing her at that party.

I
might be screwed, but for Celeste’s help with my dad, I have to keep my word. “I understand, Celeste. I’ll meet you here on Friday morning.”

As I drive away, I question my sanity. I mean…how desperate does it make me that even though Calder will never know me as Cass, I can’t wait to see him again? I refuse to think about it and instead dial my dad.

“How’s my baby girl? Have you filled up your digital card already?” Dad asks, chuckling.

“Hey, Dad. I’ve been working, but I also realized what time of year it is. Isn’t this your proposal time? I know you were thinking of skipping it this year, but I have a feeling this will be
your
year. And this time around, I’ll be here to celebrate with you.”

“Okay, I’ve locked the door. Now strip,” Celeste says as she turns away from The Grinder’s bathroom door and quickly steps out of her red-bottomed heels, then unzips her designer dove grey slacks. Lifting the bottom of her light blue cashmere sweater, she pauses and eyes me with an expectant look.

This is for Dad, I tell myself as I follow Celeste’s instructions and tug off my cable knit cream-colored sweater. While Celeste spins her hand to move me along, I step out of my moto boots and quickly follow it up with my black leggings and miniskirt.

Holding her sweater in front of her, Celeste gestures to my bra.

I groan. “Is that really necessary?”

“Do
you
shop at Belle Femme?” She tilts her head impatiently.

I scowl. “I prefer not to spend a half a month’s salary on matching underwear.”

Huffing, she points to my nude bra. “The lace on that will be bulky through the sweater. Switch with me. Oh, by the way, I bought you a set that should work with the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight. You’ll find the dress on the far left in my closet and the bra and panty set in the very top of my underwear drawer.”

I don’t even know how to respond to that. Saying “thank you” for buying me underwear just seems beyond weird—not that
this
scenario is normal at all—so I just put my back to her and unhook my bra, muttering, “At least I’ll match.” Handing my bra back to her, I say, “I draw the line at underwear.”

“Ew, me too,” she says as she replaces her bra with the one in my hand.

Once I hook her bra on, I sigh that the cups are a half size larger and slip the sweater over it. “You’re um, a bit bigger than me.”
Bet Calder loves that. Bleh.