Page 4 of Fractured Rhythm

Chapter 2

Jamie:What has three legs and an asshole on top? A drummer’s stool.

Cassie:You know you’re the drummer, right?

Jamie:Just making you laugh. Miss you, Cas.

Cassie:Miss you, too.

CASSIE

As I jotteddown a few notes for a taste test we were running later that day, my phone buzzed. I swiped it on and was greeted with a picture of a decadent red velvet cake. The perfect slice sat on a plate with a generous portion of what I assumed was cream cheese icing between each layer. Because nothing else should be used to frost a red velvet cake.

Duncan:Perfectly cooled, decorated, and shot, and it has your name on it.

I laughed. One of my producers was shooting an everything red velvet video for us to post this afternoon on Scrumptious, the online food division of Socialbuzz. We posted every type of food video you could imagine, from quick tips to recipes to features on exotic foods from around the world. Six months earlier, and after three years of busting my butt, I was promoted to culinary producer—the youngest in the company, thank you very much.

Cassie:Might be a bit early for cake.

Duncan:You take that back, missy. It’s never too early for cake. Remember that a cupcake is a muffin that dared to dream, and we all know muffins are considered breakfast food, so cake obviously fits in that category.

I barked out a laugh. Duncan was my favorite recipe producer. He always saved the best pieces of whatever he made for me.

Cassie:I’ll try to get down there soon. Just working on a few video ideas from Isabel.

Duncan:I’ll save you a slice.

Cassie:That’s why you’re the best.

Duncan:Damn right. I just finished shooting, so I’ll do a quick edit and forward it to you within the next two hours.

Cassie:Perfect.

I set my phone down and turned back to my computer, trying to focus on what we were shooting later that day and for the rest of the week.

At least my attention was back where it should be, after spending the last few days in a blur due to my almost run-in with Bash.

Of all the bars I had to walk into—honestly, what were the damn odds?

When he caught my eye, I should’ve stood my ground, but I fled like I’d done something wrong. Which was ridiculous. If anyone was in the wrong, it sure as hell wasn’t me.

A part of me also couldn’t help but feel hurt that he’d been back in New York and hadn’t looked me up. The thought never should have crossed my mind but did, nonetheless. I had moved on. I swore I had moved on.

A knock on my cubicle wall startled me, and I bounced in my seat.

“Shit, Griff,” I said, the pen I’d been twirling in my fingers falling to the floor. I pushed my chair back, leaning down to grab the pen while trying to catch my breath.

“Sorry, Cassie, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a contrite smile.

“Guess I was lost in my head.” I sat up and met his eyes.

“Everything okay?” he asked, looking concerned.

I waved him off. “Yeah, just work stuff. What are you doing down here?”

Griff was an attorney for a law firm on the sixth floor. We had bumped into each other in the lobby last year, and then, after running into each other a few more times over those first six months, he had asked me out.

He was a nice guy, but I hadn’t been ready to date. I hadn’t even thought about dating in ages—since Jamie had passed I had been too busy stewing in my personal misery to think about dating. I wouldn’t have been good company for anyone back then. But Griff had persisted.

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