Chapter 26

A scratching sound came from the door, and I rolled over towards it, stopping with a dizzy feeling when I came face-to-face with Cameron, stark naked next to me, looking at me with a drowsy just-woke-up glow about her.

"Oh—wow," I blurted. "That's not the worst thing I've woken up to."

She arched her eyebrows, stifling a yawn. "Did you take me as the type to slip out in the night?"

"No, just… maybe the type to put clothes on. I'm really glad I was wrong."

Another scratch came from the door. Cameron slumped onto her back. "That must be the famous Earl of Westlake."

I sat up, stretching. My whole body buzzed with a sort of… satisfied sensation, even if I was just a little bit sore from our marathon last night. I'd have said yes if she'd asked for another one right this instant, though. "He doesn't like being kept waiting for breakfast… he's early, though. Must be upset I didn't let him sleep on my face."

"He can get in line… someone else around here who likes to be on your face too."

I dropped my arms, startling out of a yawn. "Cameron. Oh my god."

"What?" She stretched out lazily in the bed next to me, looking at me with that playful smile and just… that look of adoration in her eyes made my heart flutter. "I'm just saying it like it is."

"I didn't say a thing." I moved without really considering it—bent over and pecked her on the forehead before I stood up, exhilaration just from that little thing, as if we hadn't gone a million times further last night. "Breakfast?"

She smiled wider, sitting up in bed. "You're cooking?"

"I mean, if you don't mind… you know, like, oatmeal, boxed things."

She slipped out of bed, alighting delicately on her feet. "Let me cook for you."

I put my hands on my hips. "I thought I was the private chef."

"I haven't gotten to cook for you. If I had to play pretty homemaker and cook meals all the time, I might as well put it to good use." She opened the door, kneeling to offer a hand for Earl to sniff as he looked bewildered between the two of us. I got a lump in my throat at the sight—Cameron Mercier, breathtaking in all the ways that she was, here in my apartment, going to make breakfast for us, playing with the cat. So… human. So real.

Unfortunately, she put clothes on before she cooked, but luckily she put on my light knit sweater that was just a little bit oversized on her, and it was a sight I could get used to. She made breakfast while I fed the cat and cleaned up the mess we'd made last night, and if there was anything better than sitting down at the table where Cameron handed me a plate piled high with breakfast, I didn't know what it was.

We made small talk through the morning, sipping coffee and eating breakfast, avoiding the real topic, and as perfect and blissful as it was, the moment was gone all too soon, Cameron looking at her phone with a tight frown.

"Your people need you?" I said idly, cupping the last of my coffee in one hand and petting Earl where he'd jumped up onto my lap with the other. Cameron sighed, shoving the phone in her bag.

"Things are rough, as I'm sure you know. But I'll make it work. Even if I have to have some very loaded conversations with people I don't want to spend a minute talking to."

I reached across the table, catching her by the wrist as she stood up. "Cameron… let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?"

She smiled politely. "You don't need to do that. This is my issue to deal with. You have your own."

I should have backed down, given her space. Wouldn't really have been true to me, though, and that had been working pretty well for me so far. "I know," I said. "But I want to. Even if it's just little things."

She held my gaze for a long time, fixed squarely on me, studying, before she relaxed, dropping her shoulders. "I'll be busy late tonight. Nine thirty at the earliest. But I hope you won't mind if I steal you again after that."

A nervous rush bubbled in my chest, but I nodded. "I don't mind it being late. Gives me plenty of time to figure out a way to up my game."

She smiled, a light flaring over her eyes as she turned to the door. "Let's not play the one-upping game. I liked La Mar."

"Oh, easy for you to say after you whipped out a custom-tailored dress and the opera…"

"Reminds me, I hope you don't mind if I take the dress back to Anya. As good as you looked in it, it will only be better with proper tailoring over longer than a few hours." She looked down at herself. "And if I steal your clothes."

"They're all yours," I said, leaving out the part that I'd happily let her take all my clothes and leave me in rags if I got to look at her in them. "I'll, uh… think of something nice for tonight."

"I look forward to it." She straightened her back. "All right. Back to good-girl life."

She said that, but this didn't feel like rebellion anymore. Felt like being where I belonged.

∞∞∞

"Oh my fucking god."

Ruth looked like she was trying to work out whether to hug me or punch me. I felt the same way, but I was polite and just slid into the seat next to her under the deep green umbrella on the News Café patio, in front of where she'd already gotten me the sandwich and cortado I always got here. It had always been one of Ruth's favorite places ever since she'd moved to Miami, and I'd always been a little hit-or-miss on it, but Ocean Drive had taken on some different feelings for me ever since I'd been… well, in Miami Beach a lot more lately. On personal matters.

"Ordered ahead for me," I said, shifting to get comfortable in my seat. The wind was driving hard today, and the sky was starting to get dense with clouds, but there wasn't supposed to be rain until later. "Thanks."

"Don't you just act like nothing happened."

Quietly, calmly, I picked up my sandwich and bit into it. Ruth folded her arms.

"Oh, now she's giving me the silent treatment. Too fancy off playing around with Cameron Mercier to give me the time of day now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, keeping my gaze across the street, fixed on the ocean. She swatted my arm.

"Okay, come off it. What was that? " she laughed, eyes sparkling. "Ma'am, I did not even know you owned a dress like that. You looked like you should have been at the opera."

I cleared my throat. "Funny you should say that…"

"No." She leaned in towards me. "She took you to the fucking opera?"

"You'll be happy to know that goofy pretentious language served me pretty well."

"You whipped out a dress like that to go to a French opera with Cameron Mercier, and you were planning on just sweeping it under the rug?"

I looked away. "I mean, if we're keeping score, she got me the dress. Took me to her old friend to have it tailored for me."

"Jesus fucking Christ, woman." She dropped her arms on the table, staring at me dumbfounded.

To be fair, I felt the same way about the whole thing. I took a bite of my sandwich.

"So, what, wedding next weekend?"

I cleared my throat. "I mean, technically, in the first place, she's still married…"

"Right." She frowned, but it vanished not long after. "Still, though… damn. You two are quite a couple."

I looked away. "So, where should I take her tonight?"

"Going out again?" She laughed, finishing off her sandwich. She'd already eaten most of it before I arrived. Ruth had always had a relentless appetite. "Wasn't two seconds ago you were saying you wouldn't get a chance with her."

"I don't know what's going on, and I'm not going to read into it too much." I put my hands up. "All I know is that I like it."

"I'd say." She beamed at me, her expression soft. "You look damn good. And not just from that bougie dress your rich girlfriend got you. Nice seeing you be… you."

I brushed my hair back, suddenly too awkward to meet her gaze. "Yeah… I guess so. Anyway, answer the question. I took her out to La Mar and she took me to the opera. I feel like I'm not keeping up."

"Don't play the keeping-up game with a mega-millionaire. Just do something nice and have a good time."

"I guess so…" I felt my face prickle. "She's more down-to-earth than I'd have thought. More… real. Human, I guess. Makes sense she likes that kind of thing. I guess net worth is just a number, especially when you're running some… highly-leveraged luxury goods brand. Something that could get wiped out in an instant."

Ruth stopped, studying me for a minute, before she said, "That's loaded. Everything okay with her?"

"Ex-husband is trying to give her shit," I said, my voice tart. "Wants her to reconcile with him. Says he misses her. I think he misses having a rich woman under his thumb."

Ruth snorted. "Because there's a recipe for a winning marriage…"

"Maybe not. Pretty sure all he cares about is if he personally wins, though." I pursed my lips. "I wish I could help. But I'm doing the exact opposite. He knows about us and… isn't happy. So Cameron didn't want to risk it by being too close to me." I held my drink up to my lips, just breathing in the scent of it, staring across the street to where people walked quickly by. "But I'm a bit selfish, I guess. And neither of us like doing what we're supposed to."

"Don't tell me she's considering going back."

"Wouldn't you?" I said, giving her a helpless look. "Even if it were to someone you didn't love and weren't sure you ever had, if it meant not losing everything?"

She pursed her lips. "I mean… what's the point of all that money if you're not happy anyway?"

"I guess. Just…" I dropped my gaze to my food, suddenly seeming miles away. I laughed, distant, hollow. "Her brand's valued at three hundred sixty million dollars. Am I worth three hundred sixty million dollars?"

Ruth shook her head, kicking back in her seat as she picked up her drink, tipping back the rest of it. "Men ruin everything."

"You're saying that to a lesbian? Preaching to the choir…"

"I'm jealous. Would be so much easier to date women."

"It's, uh, not always easy either. Besides, apparently a man can still ruin everything…"

She scoffed. "Touché. Always getting in other people's business." She set her glass down hard, giving me a loaded look. "You ask me? Girl's got to make her own decision. You just lay out everything on the table and let her decide where her priorities lie. I mean, you're putting things on the line for her, too, aren't you?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Am I?"

"Sticking around working a job you don't like when you could have gone for a fresh start in Vegas… I know you like this place, but it's loaded, isn't it? Things go wrong again, it's going to take a toll on you."

I paused. "I like the job plenty."

"Oh, bullshit to someone else. I know you. It's sucking your soul out, isn't it?"

"I mean…" I chewed my cheek, looking away. "I wouldn't go that far. Just that… I miss Queen Pearl."

"Yeah…" Her voice fell off, looking down. "Yeah, I get that."

"Felt like we were doing something that mattered. Felt like we wanted to make people's lives better. Leon isn't like that. They just want to make the numbers bigger, make the line go up. I'd forgotten how… how…" I gestured airily. "How cynical it all is."

"Didn't have a great morning there today, I'm guessing."

"Supervisor went with me to a tour, trying to show me the ropes. Straight line system. Meaning harassing a client nonstop until they either walk out the door and Leon can cross them off and move to the next one, or they sign and Leon can forget they exist. Got to pressure an old couple into a purchase they weren't ready to make." I forced a smile. "Supervisor bragged after it was done about making them feel guilty. Just dropped it casually as an effective sales move. How easy it is to make them feel guilty and sell them a little assuagement."

"Lovely," Ruth said, her voice dry.

"And sure, I could make a lot of money that way. Hell, you put me in there a year ago, I would have been dutifully making old women cry just to tick a few more boxes, sell a couple more places. But…" I shrugged, taking a bite of my sandwich, mulling the words over. "It's not really what I want to be doing."

"What do you want to be doing?"

"Hell if I know. Making things better for people."

She gave me a cautious smile. "You know… maybe you're just cut out to be an independent agent."

I paused, looking up from my sandwich. "What, telling me I don't play well with others?"

"Telling you you're on your own plane of existence. You play just fine with others, but I don't think any of us ever really helped much with your caseload at Queen Pearl. Besides," she said, sitting back and putting her hands up, "you do your own thing. Always have, right? With the way you make every client into your best friend, you'd have no problem with return clients."

I looked away. "I don't know… I'm no María."

"Think that might be for the best? María crashed and burned in the end."

I massaged my forehead. "Wasn't her fault…"

"She's the one who hired Philip. And it sure as hell isn't your fault, because I know that's what you're thinking."

I took a bite of my sandwich, looking down at my plate, thoughts swirling in my head. Finally, I set the sandwich down with a sigh, wiping my fingers. "So where do you think I should take her tonight?"

"You're never going to win one-upping her. Might as well go the other direction. Take her to karaoke or something. Ladies' night at Sweet Caroline tonight."

I laughed. "You know? I like that, actually. You're the best, Ruth."

She shook her head, grinning at me. "I'll just be careful with popping into your place. Never know what I'm going to find there."

I looked away. "Just let me know if you're going to be there until late any given night…"

"Cannot believe you went and bagged Cameron Mercier. But y'know—if anyone was going to, it was going to be you."

"Don't know about all that." I finished off my sandwich, and I wiped my fingers before I kicked back with my drink. "So. Tell me more about your new job. I know there's gossip about your new coworkers."