Chapter 22

M aría's house was lit up with the windows open at one end and music playing from inside, and I stopped the car in her driveway, just about tripping over myself getting out of the car and up to her front door. I could have called, but… this felt right.

I rapped hard against the wood door, and when nobody came to the door, I knocked again, calling her name. "María! It's me."

"London?" I heard her set something down inside, and then quick footsteps hurrying over to the door before she pulled it open. She looked like a completely different person in jeans and a t-shirt. "Madres, London, what are you doing here?"

I leaned on the doorframe. "Getting you to help. Leon Realty. I want the information—exactly who I should be contacting to take on Cameron's case with their agency."

She paused, looking me over, before she dropped her arms by her sides. "Then… you changed your mind."

"Giving it one last try."

María sighed with a tired smile, a hand to her forehead. "And… please elucidate me why you couldn't just have called?"

"Would have been easier to shake me over the phone."

She laughed. "Suppose I need to reckon with the sales monster that I helped create. The manager in charge of that division, her name's Allison Craig. I'll pass you her information and let her know you're Cameron Mercier's agent from Queen Pearl looking to do a seamless transfer. Well—bit of a seam by now, but from what I've heard, Mercier's been a difficult client for them."

"Been paying attention?"

María put her hands up. "I put a lot of myself into that case, London. I can't just forget about it that easily."

Finally, I let myself relax, just a little, leaning against the doorframe. "Thanks, María. Have you… you know, found out what you're doing next?"

"Aside from watching soap operas and eating far too many teque?os?"

"I'm taking that part as a given, yes."

"I'm not sure. A friend of mine was interested in having me on for a sales tech job, and who knows?" She sighed, slumping into herself. "Maybe just earning a nice, steady salary will be good for me. Not stress myself to the point of shriveling like a raisin."

María working under somebody else for a steady, reliable 9-to-5 without her own stakes in ownership sounded like something I'd see right after pigs flew, and it looked like she felt the same way about herself. There was no point in me saying anything—she and I both already knew it full well—but I didn't want to just sit on it. "You're not thrilled about work like that."

"Not exactly. But it's better than being out of work."

I took a long breath, drawing myself up higher. "You'll be there again. Running something… a part of something you've made your own. I know you."

She shrugged, looking away. "We'll see about that… might be getting too old to start something like Queen Pearl. She was a long time in the making."

"Hey, what's the saying about planting a tree? The best time was twenty years ago…"

She gave me an odd smile, and after a second, she laughed. "You've really gone off the deep end."

"Hey, look who's talking."

"That stings, hija."

Turned out María wasn't wasting any time. I stopped in for lunch with a former client I'd reached out to, just checking in on how things were going for her, and María's email was already in my inbox by the time I was home, scrolling through it as Earl jumped onto my lap yowling plaintively as if he'd die if I went another minute without petting him.

I scanned the internet for Allison Craig, pulling up everything else I could, and once I was satisfied with my report, I sat on it while I sent a message off to Fitri, the woman from the conference who'd asked me for my contact, just curious. Asking her how things were going. When she not-so-subtly implied she could really use some sense of career coaching, I told her to meet me for coffee later in the week so we could review her professional goals.

It was only that evening that Allison called me, a bright smile in her voice. "London Sinclair?"

"The one and only. What can I do for you?"

"María Gonzalez put your name forward for Leon Realty. I'm a hiring manager here, Allison Craig. Do you have fifteen minutes to chat?"

I dropped onto my sofa, relaxing far back into the cushions as Earl jumped up after me and headbutted me in the side. "All the time in the world."

I didn't touch the ground over the next few days. Maybe I was hoping keeping busy would keep me from thinking anything, but—it was probably more that I didn't want any space to second-guess myself. I bounced from one contact to the next, touching base as broadly as I could, and it was Friday morning when I met Adam Garcia for lunch at a café in South Beach, and he grinned at me, standing up to take my bag for me like the quaint gentleman he was.

"London," he said. "You seem like you've lost a little black cloud lately."

"Ah… maybe something like that. Shall we go order?"

"Medianoche for you again?"

I shrugged. "Eh, thinking of mixing it up."

And it was only Monday afternoon that I finally touched the ground, standing in the lobby of the sleek high-rise, wearing a suit again for the first time in what felt like years. The agent onboarding me, handing me over for the transfer, an older man from Switzerland named Robert with a salt-and-pepper moustache and a serious demeanor, was ordering coffee for us in the lobby kiosk, and while I waited for him to come back, I had to stand there, silent, under the weight of the past week's thoughts catching up with me.

One last try. What did that really mean? Maybe starting over in Vegas would have been smarter, more sensible.

But Cameron would have told me not to spend so much time being smart, being sensible.

"Client's going to be late," Robert grumbled, coming back towards me with my cold brew and his espresso. "Not uncommon with this one."

"Thanks, Robert." I took the coffee, sipping lightly at it. Fruity, sweet. Not bad. "You didn't mention it's me taking over her case, did you?"

"Allison said it was a strict condition of yours for taking it on, so…" He sniffed, almost disdainfully, at the air. "What, are we throwing her a surprise party?"

"Oh, you know. Something like that."

He shook his head, turning back to the entrance, sipping his espresso. Guy had no sense of fun.

After a second, he said without looking at me, "Allison mentioned your track record…"

"Mm-hm. You could think of me as something of a…" I shrugged lightly. "A professional survivor."

"A bad luck charm, more like."

"Eh. All depends on how you look at it."

He gave me a look, and it was then that the door slid open and, with heels clicking over the tile floor, Cameron Mercier strode into the building lobby, phone to her ear, everything about her pressed as she walked in and stopped suddenly at the sight of us, nearly tipping forward as she did.

I smiled lightly, giving her an impish little wave. I mouthed need a minute? while I mimed a phone to my ear, but she didn't say anything.

She was cute in stunned quiet like this. Of course, the sleek white suit with high heels didn't hurt, either. God, she was gorgeous.

When a voice chattered from her phone, she interrupted. "I'm at my appointment. I'll call you back."

The voice chittered back, sounding outraged, but Cameron didn't give them the time of day. She hung up, sliding her phone into her purse as she looked between the two of us.

"Miss Mercier—" Robert started, and Cameron waved him off.

"About time you finally listened," she said. "So I'm handed off now, yes?"

"Well—" Robert started, scrunching up his nose.

"If that's the case, then I assume your work here is done. Have a lovely day, Robert. Pleasure working with you."

Robert looked between us, brow furrowed. I took the pleasure of sipping lightly at my coffee, just enjoying the consternation on his features, before I spoke. "Thanks for the hand-off. I'll take Cameron up to the property from here."

"There's a procedure—" he started, and Cameron put a hand up.

"And this is an exception. As I said… have a lovely day."

He sighed, defeated, and finished his espresso. "I'll let the manager know. London… well. Good luck."

I wasn't sure I'd heard a good luck sound so snide, so loaded, before. And I'd heard plenty of them from Miguel. He marched away, footfalls ringing on the tile, and Cameron glanced after him, watching him go.

"Stuffy, isn't he?"

"A bit."

"And you took your time," she said, turning back to me with something flaring up in her eyes. "I told you two weeks ago I was expecting you here."

"So you did. But you know… Earl needed attention too."

She drew herself up straighter. "I'm second to a cat, then?"

"No, definitely tied. Either one of you will be very cross if I neglect you."

She laughed, something giving way as her posture relaxed, eyes sparkling. "I thought you were giving up on this city."

I flicked my gaze away, off to the tall windows running up to the vaulted ceiling. "Oh, you know… figured some things are worth trying again and again for."

She paused. "And we're talking about a city, here?"

"Oh, of course. What else would it be?" I gestured to the kiosk. "Coffee, Miss Mercier? My treat, of course."

She studied me for a while before she softened into a smile. "You are so difficult to read sometimes… London. I would love an oat milk latte."

I walked just ahead of her with the brief for the property tucked under my arm, leading her to the coffee kiosk, and I gestured to the lobby. "As you can see, it's another new construction, completed just four years ago… Leon had high hopes for selling you on this one. Seemed like a crude approach, but rather bad form of me to criticize my own employer like that to the client, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes? Do tell me about the building. That's certainly what's on my mind now."

"Well, happily, Miss Mercier. Created with the help of a sustainable development grant, it has exceptionally high efficiency grades, and the integration of vertical gardening and interior green spaces creates a luxurious living environment…"

"Are you reading from the packet right now, perhaps?"

"I may have crammed my homework the night before."

I got her the latte and led her to the elevator at the back of the lobby, swiping the keycard through the scanner and gesturing her into the elevator ahead of me. It was only once the doors closed that she rounded on me, eyes narrowed.

"So now you're staying? I can't read you, London."

"I already told you. I figured things were worth one more try."

She sighed, hard, turning away, raking her hands through her hair. My stomach twisted into a knot, looking at her.

"C'mon," I said. "I can't be that bad."

"Categorically, much worse. I'm entirely underreacting."

I folded my arms, watching as the floor numbers went by. "Hardly fair, reacting like that when you're the one who told me to come pick your case back up."

Cameron sighed, again, deeply, more… defeated this time, as she sank back against the rail along the elevator wall. "Well, I'm not a fair person, then, I suppose."

"Did something happen? With—"

"Certainly. Offered to clear up the…" She gestured airily. "The whole thing around my brand. Offered to… forget the whole thing . With some conditions."

"Smarmy rat bastard," I muttered, before I pursed my lips. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

A smile flickered over her lips, and she looked away. "Speaking of offering to forget the whole thing, I'll pretend I didn't hear a thing if you just take me on this tour as regular."

"What are the conditions?" I pushed without even thinking about it—words just tumbling out of my mouth. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Please, London."

Dammit. I couldn't get anything out of her right now. But I think I knew a way. I relaxed my posture. "Then… would you like to start at the office suite or the living room?"

She strained a smile. "Office suite. Let's save the pleasant parts for last."

The elevator came to a stop at the top floor, and I led her out into the entryway, where I took a left and showed her into the private office suite. It was a stylish place—reminded me a bit of her office, contemporary styles blended with something more Art Deco, but it might have been leaning a bit into the lavish, almost gaudy. Not Cameron's taste. Had Leon researched these things at all?

We kept going through the cycle as I led her through and then into the living room—talking about the space, trading quick remarks like playful sparring, and then it would go a bit too far—something a little too bold, a little too flirtatious, and then we'd jerk back into an awkward coldness and do it all again.

It was a long tour, a big place that I knew was more wide-open and massively in on the square footage than Cameron wanted, and I knew well before we were through that she wasn't interested. Why she was even still here, well… that was its own question.

But eventually, I led Cameron out to the rooftop space, packed with greenery and even a Zen garden, and I gestured for her to join me at the table by the sheer glass railing. She got the cue, sinking into the seat next to me with a heaviness, a loaded silence, as she stared down at the dregs of her coffee. I didn't say anything—let the silence do its work—and eventually, she cracked.

"He wants to take it back," she said, and it took me a second to work it out. My stomach sank when I did.

"The… separation?"

"Mm-hm."

I screwed up my face. "He wants to extort and blackmail you into having a marriage with him."

"He's always been a bit pushy." She spoke tartly, like she was talking around a lemon wedge in her mouth.

"Tell me you're not going to accept."

"Or what?" she said idly, casting her gaze out to the horizon. "You're going to rush in and shout that you object? Carry me out in your arms?"

"If you give me half a chance, I would."

She laughed drily. I shifted closer.

"Don't laugh. I'm serious."

She arched her eyebrows at me, a distant smile on her lips. "A bit more dramatic than your style normally is, London."

"So maybe I've had a change of heart." I put a hand on her arm, my heart beating faster. My mouth felt dry—I wasn't used to this, and it left me feeling stranded, but at the same time, it was exhilarating. "I don't care about him. I want you."

She pursed her lips, giving me a look of quiet surprise—scanning me, like she was making sure it was still me. "London—"

"I know what you said. And you're right. Maybe we've been in a dreamland chasing fantasy versions of each other. But you're wrong that I haven't been me. You're the person I've been able to be real around, the person who makes me speak my mind. So if we've been some fantasy and nothing more, then I want to try something more. Date you. I… want a chance with you."

She sighed, hard, turning away, a hand to her forehead. "Christ, London. What am I supposed to do with that?"

I wasn't being deterred at this point. I shifted closer still, slipping a hand to her back. "Well… if it were up to me, maybe say yes and go out for dinner with me?"

She laughed suddenly, and she had a soft pink tinge to her cheeks when she looked back at me. "It's very… charming. To see you so forward. Again, that preternatural charm of yours."

"There's nothing preternatural about it. I just…" I dropped my gaze back to the table, my insides twisting up in knots. "I've loved… every second I've gotten with you. I want as many as I can get. If that's wrong, then I'll be wrong."

"The problem," Cameron said, her voice gentle as she cupped her coffee in both hands, staring down into it. "The problem is that I figured I had to say yes. To him. And that it would be worth it to make sure my brand wasn't destroyed, and all the people who work for me with it. And I'd been spending the past two weeks justifying it to myself. Finding ways to believe that I'd be okay in it, that I'd be happy living that life." She gestured in my direction. "And then you come along saying all the things I was hoping you'd say before he tried to bring me back. And now what am I supposed to do?"

I took a long breath, shuddering just a little in my chest. I couldn't just ask her to pick me. Not when it was me against her entire business, the thing she'd built her entire life around, the thing that made her who she was today. Not when it was me against her future.

But at the same time, maybe I could.

"Give me a chance," I said, quietly. "Just… some time. He doesn't need an answer right away. Even if he's acting like he does, he's not giving away his bargaining power by refusing you some time. Just a little time, with me."

She gave me a smile streaked with so many things at once—strained, sad, but impossibly fond at the same time. "And you'll win me over?"

"Or die trying."

She laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. The stiffness around that area said she hadn't done that much lately. "Really… you've had me wrapped around your finger since day one, London. Who else would give me the sass that you do?"

"Maybe Earl of Westlake? He's got quite some attitude."

She shook her head, smiling. "Again with this cat…"

"I like you… quite a lot, Cameron. Despite everything, you're the one who makes me feel the most like myself. And I'm not ready to let that go just yet."

She looked down, swirling the last of her coffee in her cup. "Ah… I did quite miss you."

"Me too." I slipped a hand to her back, leaning into her. "So… dinner. You haven't gotten a chance to go out for food much lately, have you?"

She gave me a dazzling smile. "And how on earth would you know that?"

"You're stressed. Surrounded by those reminders of a time where you had to push down what you actually wanted, and… made to feel like it's your wants that are causing problems. I just feel like… from what I know about you… you're probably not doing those things you like."

"You've always been impossible to say no to," she laughed, breathless, shaking her head. "Salesperson's job?"

"Maybe just the job of a hopeless woman who wants to be your…" I paused, scrunching up my face, but—hell, at this point I guess there was no use beating around the bush. "Who wants to be your girlfriend."

"Not even trying the salesperson angle," she laughed, eyes sparkling. "What exactly happened to you while we've been apart, London?"

I shrugged, my heart racing so fast it felt like it would burst. "Just… coin came up the other side than usual, I guess. Peruvian seafood. Tonight. I know a place I think you'll like."

She leaned into me, meeting me in the middle with our faces coming so close I felt like we'd kiss, and embarrassingly my hands shook, just a little. Finally, she breathed out a sigh, closing her eyes. "I should say no…"

"And as for what you will say?"

"What I will say is… that I can be free after seven."

It took all my resolve not to jump. I slipped my hand to her shoulder and squeezed. "I'll get us a reservation and text you the address. Don't look it up, though. I want it to be a surprise."

She laughed, finishing her coffee before she stood up. "You're so much more romantic than I gave you credit for," she said lightly. "So then… shall we finish the tour?"

"Do you want to?" I stood with her, stretching my arms out. "I know this place isn't your style."

She shot me that smile I'd been quickly getting addicted to—one I never saw her give anyone but me, no matter how many of her interviews and event appearances I'd watched. And I wasn't going to admit to how many I'd watched. "And you're going to politely get on Leon's case so they have better selections for me?"

I probably would. I had a few places in mind I thought she'd like.