Page 46 of Casita Casanova
This is going to be a very long day.
Chapter Fifteen
Ridge
The small office above the brewery is cramped, but it’s amusing to be forced into such close proximity with a woman who is so desperate to ignore me.
Greg, the guy who hired Maryn—and one of our new bosses—settles into a chair across the desk from us. “We have a little welcome video for you, and while you watch that, I’ll get everything updated in the system.” He waves our IDs in the air, turning his attention to me. “New York, huh? What part?”
Tension snakes its way across my shoulders. I breathe deeply through my nose without glancing at Maryn because I can feel her watching me intently. She’s been trying to get information out of me and I’ve been a hold out.
“The best part.”
Greg frowns. “Your name is interesting; where is it from?”
This fucking guy. “It’s an Irish name.”
“But you said you just go by Cas, right?”
My hands flex on my thighs. “Yep. Just Cas.”
I flick my gaze to Maryn, who watches me thoughtfully.
Maybe if Beth wanted me to trulyblend inandbe normal, she should have sent me with a fake ID. Something that doesn’t read like I might betheCassius Ridgeway Westcott, heir to the Westcott throne and reigning King of New York.
“All right, as soon as HR is done on their end, they’ll send me an email and you two can get to work—barring any tax or payroll issues, of course.” He stands and walks to this side of the desk, leaning over Maryn to place a large laptop in front of us, then clicks a few keys to pull up the video. “It’s interesting that neither of you have resumés or… work experience.”
Maryn glances at me, a question in her eyes.
Hey now, I couldn’t very well putFinance MogulorHead of a Fortune 500on the application, could I? Pretty sureKing of a Billion-Dollar Empirewould raise some red flags.
I shrug. “I’ve been travelling.”
Greg’s eyebrows rise. “Wow. That’s great. Where have you been?”
Where haven’t I been?I give the guy a shrug. “Here and there.”
He glowers, then turns to Maryn, pasting a smile to his face. “And you said you’ve been a stay-at-home mom, correct?”
Maryn nods. “Yes.”
Greg flashes a grin that makes me wonder about his intentions with my landlord, then leans on the desk, looking down at her. “Sounds like you’re probably over-qualified.”
I roll my eyes.
Maryn laughs softly, that self-depreciating laugh that sparks something protective in me. “That’s kind. Thank you.”
I cross my arms over my chest.
“Your daughter’s how old?”
“Nineteen.”
“Wow.” He shakes his head, holding her gaze. “I just can’t believe that. You don’t look old enough to have a nineteen-year-old.”
Okay, settle down, Greg.
“I bet she’s beautiful, just like her mom.”
