Not What It Seems (Escape to Alaska Trilogy) by Brenda Sinclair Page A

even born. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you.” Clayton appeared pleased and a tad surprised.
    “Actually, this is my mother’s favorite drink. I’ve mixed a few of these in my time.” Cassidy took another sip.
    “So, where are you from?” Clayton saluted her and then upended his glass of beer.
    “And so begins the inquisition?”
    “Just curious. You mentioned this morning that you’d recently moved to Anchorage.”
    “Like Sherry, I’m saving money for college, topping up my tuition fund.” Cassidy considered that little white lie a stroke of genius. But had Clayton noticed she’d sidestepped his question?
    “Sherry’s set on becoming a school teacher. So what are you going to be when you grow up?” Clayton’s question sounded almost challenging.
    For some reason, the bartender’s tone didn’t ring true with Cassidy. Was there a motive behind his third degree? Did he suspect something? Sherry had assured her that an outsourced accounting firm handled the bar’s payroll, and no one at the bar including Clayton was privy to anyone’s payroll records.
    Could something have triggered his suspicions? She couldn’t recall letting anything slip during their brief conversation this morning or while working with him tonight. Maybe it was the way she’d dressed. She lowered her head and grimaced. What was she thinking? Would a student, struggling financially, wear silk blouses? And she’d worn two hundred dollar designer jeans this morning. She vowed to wear cotton shirts and jeans bought at the second-hand store from now on!
    “I haven’t actually settled on a profession.” Cassidy gulped her drink and stood up to leave.
    Clayton Morrison hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words to her all evening, except to clarify a couple of her drink orders. Now he was suddenly interested in her life story? Whatever his reasons, she thought, he definitely doesn’t trust me. Does he suspect I’m lying to him? Or is he simply annoyed that Sherry refused to dismiss her from Gold Diggers’ employ?
    “Calling it a night?” Clayton glared at her.
    “Yes. Thank you for the drink. Pleasure working with you.” She forced herself to smile at the man who’d almost terminated their working relationship.
    “Good night. Great to have you join the team.” Clayton grabbed her empty glass.
    Cassidy considered it an odd comment. Fifteen minutes ago he’d headed a one man campaign to fire her. If Clayton Morrison suspected she was a fraud, to what lengths would he go to satisfy his curiosity? She shouldn’t have accepted the drink. He could test her DNA with that empty glass. He even had her fingerprints. And then she decided her imagination required serious reining in.
    “Good night,” called Cassidy over her shoulder as she bolted from the bar with the bouncer following on her heels. Cassidy almost protested, and then she remembered the company policy—all female waitresses were walked to their cars after late night shifts. She didn’t want to get Terry in hot water with Clayton.
    “Get a grip, Cassidy,” she muttered, as she fumbled the key into Fiona’s lock.
    “Did you say something?” Terry Wilson loomed over her.
    “No, nothing, Terry, I’m just talking to myself. Thank you for walking me to my car. See you tomorrow.” Cassidy smiled, yanked Fiona’s door open, and climbed into the driver’s seat. She slammed the door closed and depressed the lock.
    “Good night, Cassidy,” called Terry through the closed window before turning and retreating toward the bar.
    Cassidy took a deep breath.
    After a minute, she turned the key and Fiona roared to life. She snapped her seatbelt into place, shifted the car into gear, and drove home with the frightening certainty that Clayton Morrison represented trouble in her life.
    ****
     
     
    The next morning Cassidy awoke at loose ends. She’d settled into her new life in Anchorage while covering all her bases to protect her whereabouts from everyone back in Chicago. And