"Just so you're aware Sir, I can't take anymore cash payments now. We stop taking cash payments at midnight," the barmaid said to the tall, good looking man that Cat had been admiring all evening.
"Oh, can you add it to the company tab instead?" he replied, his hand faltering around his wallet that he had just pulled out to pay for another drink.
"No, sorry Sir. The instructions are not to add alcoholic beverages."
The man laughed and Cat appreciated how the laugh lit up his face.
"Assholes. Never mind, I guess I'll call it a night. Could you call me a cab?"
Cat had found an in.
"You can charge the gentleman's drink to my room," Cat said, quickly rising from her armchair and striding to the bar to hold her room key out for the barmaid to see.
"Sure," the barmaid smiled and proceeded to pour the drink he had ordered.
The man looked at Cat with widened eyes, seeming a little surprised.
"Thanks," he said, holding cash out for Cat to take.
"There's no need to repay me," Cat said, "but I would like you to join me for a drink."
Dean gave Cat a level look and she wondered if she had overshot.
"It would be my pleasure," he eventually replied.
Cat held his look before ordering a drink for herself.
"So, what's your name?" Dean asked her and Cat gave a soft laugh.
She was one of the few women who worked for her guardian's company and she'd even been given a name badge today, as had everyone else, she thought those two things might have made her name easier to remember.
"It's Cat."
She thought about reminding him that they had both attended the same conference today and therefore also worked for the same company, but she reasoned that wouldn't help her accomplish anything.
"What's so funny?" Dean asked, frowning a little.
"Oh… just that I've made things a little awkward by buying you a drink, haven't I? It's not usually the woman that approaches the man."
Dean shrugged and smiled.
"It's the twenty-first century, sometimes women even ask other women if they can buy them a drink."
Cat gave a wry smile at his comment, she liked his sense of humour. She wanted to let him know that she already knew his name, but she had to play the game.
"Are you going to tell me your name?"
"Yes, it's Dean."
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Dean."
Cat held out her hand for Dean to take and he gripped it firmly, giving her hand a sound shake.
"Likewise," he replied.
At that moment the drinks were placed on the bar in front of them and the bill was presented for Cat to sign.
"Shall we find somewhere to sit?" Cat said after thanking the barmaid and taking her drink. She turned to head in the direction of a couple of cosy armchairs nestled in a corner, in a different location to the one she had been sitting in before, one which did not afford such a good view of the bar that Dean had been perched at.
"What brings you to a hotel that has seen better days in the middle of nowhere?" Cat asked once they had both settled themselves into the armchairs around a low coffee table.
"I'd like to say I'm here for something that would make me sound exciting and interesting, but I'm not, I'm just here for a boring work conference."
Cat had to contain another laugh, she was sure her guardian would be very amused to hear that too.
"Well, we all have to make a living somehow. What is your job?" Cat asked.
Dean took a sip from his whiskey and Cat watched his throat, which was covered in thick facial hair, bob as he did. He had a strong, yet elegant neck which she would have loved to sink her teeth into.
"I work for a private security firm," he said, after swallowing his whiskey with a contented sigh.
"That sounds pretty exciting and interesting to me," Cat said.
"At one time in my life, it was. What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to get away somewhere quiet."
It was a half truth, she had agreed to attend the conference for that reason. Cat had found that the most convincing lies were the ones that had an element of truth to them.
A slow, sexy smile grew on Dean's face. One quite different to the one she'd seen him wear a few times that evening.
"What are you running away from?"
Cat thought about her response before answering.
"Responsibility."
Dean threw his head back and laughed, the sound was low and husky.
"I hope it's the school kind of responsibility and not husband and kids responsibility... that did not mean to sound as pervy as it came out as."
"How old are you anyway? You're at least twenty-one, right? You have to be," Dean then added with a frown.
"Twenty-two."
"Oh wow. Twenty-two. You're young."
Cat maintained her cool composure, she was used to this reaction from older men, she knew that he would stop pretending it was an issue soon.
"How old are you?"
This was the one question she had asked him that she didn't know the exact answer to.
"Thirty-Three."
"You can hardly say that's old."
"Wait until you hit the big Three-Oh, then tell me how you feel about a twenty-two year old telling you that thirty isn't old."
"Should we stop talking then? Because I make you feel old?"
"I didn't say anything about not wanting to talk to you. I'd still like to know what kind of responsibility you're running away from though."
Cat smiled to herself, Dean had got her on that one.
"It is just 'school' responsibility, like you said."
Cat raised her fingers in the air to make inverted commas around her speech.
"The work will be worth it in the end, trust me. You don't want to end up like me. I was smart, I could have stuck out college but I didn't and here I am."
Cat resisted the urge to narrow her eyes at his statement, he got paid pretty handsomely for what he did, as far as she knew. Also, she wasn't enjoying the direction the conversation was going in, she was starting to sense a power imbalance and not the kind she secretly dug . But before she could change the direction of the conversation to one she preferred, Dean downed his drink. He pulled a face as the liquid seared his throat.
"I really should get home. Thanks for the drink, Cat. Best of luck with school."
Cat had to make a conscious effort to not try to make him stop, that wouldn't be smooth, but she wanted to. She felt pissed that she had blown her chances with him. She had to admit it to herself, she had got arrogant. Watching a man in a bar, listening in on what he was saying, finding out what he needed, then finding a moment to swoop had become a well-honed skill for her. But never mind, another opportunity to strike again would arise.
Cat checked William, her guardians, diary on the office computer for the week. She started to read out the calendar of events to him as a brief, their Sunday mornings always started like this. William had always said that the working week started on a Sunday, not Monday, which meant that for as long as Cat had lived with him, she had never been allowed a Sunday off. When she got to Wednesday's events she stuttered when she saw a name that she had only just been able to get out of her head.
"D-Dean Ambrose. Meeting on Wednesday 1PM."
William stopped his pacing around the room to pierce her with his withering gaze, one that Cat had never quite got used to. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I was just thinking, maybe you need someone to take the minutes of that meeting. He's important, isn't he? And I think that perhaps this will be a meeting you should make formal minutes of it."
William stroked his chin as he looked at her and for a moment Cat was scared that he was onto her.
"That would be very helpful, thank you Catherine. But will you find the time?"
"Yeah, I'm sure I can rearrange things so I have a half day."
Cat was now at a point in her education where she had finished her first degree and had gone on to further study, the course was flexible and although maintaining a routine was important to her studies, she couldn't pass up on the opportunity to engineer another meeting with Dean.
"Excellent, continue," William said, going back to pacing the room again.
Cat had to concentrate hard on the task at hand to stop herself from rehearsing how she would get a little more of Deans attention this time.
Cat waited for William and Dean in Williams office. She had hoped that William would allow her to welcome Dean into the house but he had been insistent that she stay in his office and be prepared. She had put on something similar to what she had worn to the conference, a grey two piece skirt suit with a soft pink blush blouse. The overall look was smart enough for William to approve of and sexy enough for anyone that appreciated that kind of look. She hoped Dean was of that persuasion. When Cat heard the knob of the door to Williams office turn, she immediately jumped up, knowing what was expected of her.
"Dean, this is my daughter, Catherine. She will be taking the minutes of todays meeting."
William introduced Cat before Dean had any chance to lay eyes on her. Cat saw recognition flicker in his eyes but he kept his reaction in check.
"Hi," he said shortly.
Cat held out her hand for Dean to shake.
"Hello, Mr. Ambrose."
Dean looked at her hand before accepting it, she could tell he felt a little incredulous that she could behave like this was the first time she had ever met him. He shook her hand much more briefly than he had the first time, clearly keen to get it over with, then sat down before he was offered a seat.
It was difficult for Cat to focus on her job, the details of the meeting were not particularly interesting, it sounded like more of a report on Deans latest jobs and the man himself was very distracting from the monotonous task. He was dressed conservatively in dark jeans, black boots and a dark long sleeved top but the simple look suited him and his lack of flash made him more appealing to Cat. She was attracted to older men because she preferred their more mature personalities and looks. However, she also couldn't deny that part of the attraction was money. She wanted a certain lifestyle and older lovers could help her fund it. But with Dean it was different, she wasn't entirely sure what drew her to him. It wasn't his money because although he probably had enough, he didn't earn the big bucks she looked for in a man. She couldn't even say it was his looks, she had been with more handsome men, he just had an aura…
"Cat, would you be so kind as to see Mr. Ambrose out please?"
Cat quickly looked up at William and Dean, who were both standing now, then at her laptop. She was glad to that she had managed to finalise the minutes before allowing herself to drift off into a Dean induced stupor.
"Certainly," Cat said, opening the door for Dean to walk through.
They both made their way out of the door and to the bottom of the stairs in silence. Cat waited until she found a spot at the bottom of the staircase where she knew noise wouldn't travel up to William before she spoke, but Dean beat her to it.
"So you're Regals daughter, huh?"
Cat knew a confrontation would be inevitable but she had hoped she could postpone that part. Dean looked pretty pissed and he was awfully close to her at that moment, acting all mad with a dark glower on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. It was a slight turn on but she didn't want Dean to realise that or he might stop.
"I'm Williams adopted daughter," she corrected him on two counts; what he should be called and his relationship to her.
"What difference does it make? There's no way you didn't know I was at that hotel for the conference and who I worked for."
"You're right, I did know. But you didn't even realise I was at the conference too so I think you should be more mad at yourself than me for not putting two and two together sooner."
Dean laughed and shook his head at her.
"Do you not think coming up to me, pretending you didn't know who I was, lying about who you are, was not a little bit creepy?"
"No, I thought you would respond a little better than you did. It's the first time I've been turned down."
"I have morals."
Cat smiled, he looked indignant but having listened in on the meeting she had just had with William, she knew he could not be accused of having morals. Nobody in their business could possibly have morals.
"Shame. But if you ever decide to get off your high horse..."
Cat slipped her business card into the left front pocket of Deans jeans, it read, 'Catherine Evans. Personal Assistant to William Regal. Regal Security,' and had a mobile number and email address beneath it.
"Both are personal and only checked by me," Cat said as Dean watched her hand get close to his thigh to push the card into the tight pocket of his jeans.
"I don't need to go through you to speak to your Daddy," he said with a sneer but Cat didn't mind, she noticed that as he turned to head to the door out of the house he didn't take the card out of his pocket.