Chapter 10

T he view was beautiful, but somehow, as we leaned on the railing at the end of the tour, the city sprawling below us where it rolled into the water's edge, I couldn't take my eyes off Cameron.

She was so free here, so… open. So herself. And I cared on a more personal level than I should have.

"I hope I didn't hype up the rooftop too much," I said. "Maybe it couldn't live up to the expectations I set."

She laughed, glancing over at me, crisp blue eyes shining in the clear sunlight. "What do you expect me to say? Yes, definitely underwhelming, I hate it? "

"Enjoyed the tour, then?"

She flicked her gaze down to my waist, and I felt tension coiling there before she met my eyes again, a smile on her lips. "Very, very much. Thank you, London."

I swallowed. I was not giving in.

More importantly, she was so… open. I could read her body language—when she was like this, just the two of us in a beautiful luxury home like this and she let herself be awestruck and delighted in all those human ways, I could read her clearly, and I knew how to tell when a client was ready to make a decision. With sixty million on the line, she wouldn't buy just like that, but I just needed to take her into the closing sequence and it would be cinched, minus another week or so of delaying and consideration. Set the seeds in her mind.

A smile quirked over her lips. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," I said immediately. She leaned against the railing with one arm, her eyes sparkling.

"Are we talking about the property, or are we flirting, London?"

I looked away. "Just… it's nice to see you get a chance to open up. I'm excited to see which property you pick. Or if you pick any of them at all."

She paused. "I thought you were supposed to be selling me on this one."

I'd thought so, too. "I take my job seriously. And my job isn't to close the client as soon as possible and for as much as possible. It's… to make sure the client is happy with where she ends up."

It wasn't true, and she knew that. But she didn't call me out, just turning back to the horizon with me, settling into the silence as the wind murmured around us.

Finally, she spoke softly. "It's been nice for me to get a chance to open up, too. You're quite charming, London."

"I have to be. I'm an attendant to the Earl of Westlake himself."

"Yeah, yeah. Blame the cat for everything." She pushed away from the railing, beaming as she headed back for the door. "I have a meeting to get to soon, so… shall we head back?"

The window had closed. My golden opportunity to grasp this and close her for Queen Pearl—for me—had come and gone. I'd get another, of course—we still had three more properties on our radar—but I didn't know why I'd let it slip. Why I'd seen the opportunity right there and blinked.

I walked her back through, taking one more chance to show her the living room on the way out, and we took the elevator back down. Cameron glanced at me once the doors shut and we started down.

"Back to good-girl life?"

It sent a rush through my body, and a whiny, needy part of me regretted that we hadn't had sex. I tried not to let it show on my face. "I have a conference soon I'm going to be speaking at, so… finding a chance to squeeze in some research."

"Shame I won't be there. I bet you give a good speech. What's it about?"

I scratched the back of my head. "I try, anyway… it's nothing exciting. Market trends. Representing Queen Pearl just so we can say we presented at the conference."

"Try not to sound so enthusiastic about it."

"I probably should get more enthusiastic about it… this level of blasé will definitely come across in the speech. I'll practice to the cat."

She laughed, and she settled into a fond look. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I think you know."

I didn't, but I didn't really care at that point, because she stepped in and kissed me again, and I let out a muffled grunt, my hands going to her sides. I ached with the sensation—Cameron's hands on my sides, her lips against me, the smell of her perfume carrying me away to a different world. It was a delirious kiss, fast and furious, one that sent heat shooting through my body, but… something about it felt softer, and it made my heart stutter in a way that didn't feel like just physical attraction at all.

She pulled away once we got to the garage floor and the elevator chimed, and she brushed her thumb over her lip, a light in her eyes. "Keep wearing that today," she whispered, and suddenly we were very much back to the raw physical attraction. My whole body reacted, and all I could do was nod numbly as the doors opened.

"I… will."

"I'll be doing the same," she whispered. "Meetings where I'll be dressed like this… thinking of you…"

"Cameron…" Her name came out as a weak plea—an attempted rebuke that turned into a breathy gasp. She licked her lips as the doors opened, and she stepped out into the parking garage, towards her car.

"I'll see you next time, London."

I knew damn well why I hadn't taken the chance to close her. I just didn't want to think about it.

I kept wearing it, like she'd said, and it had heat buzzing through my body the whole way back to the office, where the coffee machine broke as I walked past and Ruth's packet of sugar exploded as she pulled it open. Sitting in my office, feeling the keen awareness of every inch of my skin, my mind caught on the thought of Cameron, out there in her meeting right now, wearing that unbelievable red set.

She would be back in full serious work mode. I'd checked videos online and seen her giving interviews, and she was intense when she was in work mode. The image of her standing at the head of a table, leading a meeting, using that stern voice and that steady, intense gaze—and underneath it, dressed like that, thinking about me. Ready to melt for my touch.

Dammit.

I'd never had my work derailed by being horny before, but it was hard to focus. Studying the numbers María had sent me for the conference presentation was dizzying, overwhelmed by it all and hard to make sense of it, and I tried a few times to write my script and got nowhere. I was still in the middle of the spiraling when the door knocked, and I put on a polite smile that vanished when Miguel came into the room.

"London," he said, looking a little breathless—putting on a show like he'd run to get here, a display to make it look like whatever he was saying was really important—but thank god for my curse, because he got interrupted by his belt loop catching on the doorhandle. He jerked back and banged his hand on the door, and he fumbled trying to unhook his pants.

"I understand your struggle," I said drily. "Doors are a pretty recent innovation. It's not easy to catch up with the times."

"Listen—shut up. Why do things like this only ever happen in your office?"

Maybe because karma was real and wanted to fuck him over. I wouldn't complain. "Tell me what you want, Miguel."

He freed himself from the doorhandle and stepped inside, shutting the door, before he leaned over my desk, trying to look powerful. " Cameron Mercier? "

"London Sinclair, actually." I pointed to the plaque on my desk. "Says it right there."

"A sixty-million-dollar budget?"

"Plaques aren't cheap, but that's a bit steep…"

He sighed sharply. "Stop playing games with me. María seriously put you and you alone on a case like this?"

"What?" I snorted. "Upset you can't steal this one out from under me, too?"

He glowered. "If you're whining about Garcia, you just walked in and took it from Ruth, to begin with."

"She fucking asked. And I actually did shit, not just walk in and throw down some forms. And then lying to María?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Forget it. Did you look at the—" He gestured a folding paper, and I sighed.

"I set it aside to deal with it later. I'm busy. I have a conference to prepare for."

He paused. "The… conference? You're going? Not María?"

I bristled, and it took all my willpower not to fly off the handle at him. " I'm going, Miguel. I can handle a little presentation."

"A little presen—" He threw his hands up. "Fuck's sake, London, this is the second biggest conference in our field, and you're describing the headline speech as a little presentation? "

"The headline…" I blanked. "What?"

"Are you fucking with me? Queen Pearl is slated to deliver the headliner event this year."

I felt my face burn. "If you're going to try making shit up, make it believable? María would have told me."

"That's what I'm wondering, is why the fuck she didn't tell you."

I swallowed, hard, and I snatched my phone off the desk, calling María. She didn't pick up, and I called again, and she picked up on the second ring.

"Dios mio, London, is someone dying?" she said.

"The headline? "

It was all I had to say. María sighed. "I thought if I led with that, you'd say no."

"Jesus Christ, María. When were you planning on telling me?"

"Tomorrow morning. I've been working on a script for your presentation, and I'm trying to schedule us some time to practice, you and me. I know you don't like having information like that and nothing to do with it immediately, so…"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "This isn't like you, María. You're not normally slippery." And admittedly, the smug look Miguel was giving me didn't help my mood.

"This whole situation isn't normal. Just relax, okay? I don't want you to panic. Just because it's the headline act doesn't mean you need to fret about it. It'll go well if you relax and handle it normally."

"Right." I raked my hand over my face, letting out a sigh through my teeth. "Right. Of course. All right. I'm getting a little annoyed, but I know taking that out on you isn't going to help anything, so I'm hanging up now."

"London, wait," she said, catching me before I hung up. "I'm sorry. And thank you. You have to understand, I'm… well, we're desperate right now. Doing things we wouldn't otherwise."

"Yeah." An undercurrent of guilt upset the sting of irritation, but I didn't want to acknowledge either. "Yeah, I know. That's why I'm going to fume in silence here instead of marching into your office to yell at you."

"Gracias. You're our star, London. Take care of yourself, that you don't fizzle out."

I hung up, going back to Miguel with a heavy sigh, a hand in my hair. "You win, Miguel. Yeah, it's weird. But I guess María has faith in me."

He grimaced. "Not to question María's favorite, but really? Both Cameron Mercier and this conference?"

"Desperate times and all that. Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?"

He sighed. "Just… make sure you handle the thing with your apartment. I know we've never gotten along, but I still don't want to see you kicked out of your home. Queen Pearl will be screwed without you."

"Mm-hm. You never said if it's allowed or not to go behind María's back to be on their advisory board."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. Just make sure you do something about it. After all," he said with a sour look, turning back to the door, "we can't have anything happen to our little star, can we?"

As if he was one to talk about María doting on me. I didn't give him the dignity of an answer, watching him leave, and I turned with a heavy sigh back to the window.

The pigeon smear was still there.

This city was so alive, but at the same time, it was so brutal. Poor Earl of Westlake didn't deserve to get kicked out with me.

I was going to close Cameron and handle this damn conference. I'd missed my opportunity earlier today, but I wouldn't next time.

When I turned back, there was a text on my phone, and my heart lurched at the number—Cameron's.

Amelie is going to LIV tonight. She hopes you'll join her?