by Aurora Rey
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what she has in mind.” She knew where this was going and she didn’t like it.
“You should suggest your father,” Mum said.
Cam closed her eyes. She should have known this was coming. Her father had taken up handiwork after retiring, and since there were no contractors based in town, he’d taken to doing odd jobs for people. He was quite good, actually, but the idea of entwining her life with Lauren’s even more than it already was sent a ripple of discomfort through her.
“That’s a great idea.” Sophie offered a smile laced with mischief.
“Like I said, I don’t know what she has in mind.”
Her father waved his hand. “You know what I can do. Don’t get me roped into anything above my weight class and I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She sighed. She might grouse from time to time, but she had a great family. Even Sophie, with all her instigating. She could count on them for anything, including unwavering support.
That support included the launch of Carriage House. As much as she wanted it to do well for herself, she wanted to make her family proud. And give the company a financial boost. Whether she liked it or not, working with Lauren gave her a good shot of doing exactly that. She wasn’t going to waste it.
* * *
After spending the day with Cam at the distillery, Lauren set aside an afternoon to start working on the marketing campaign she promised to deliver, starting with some heavy-duty research. She made herself a pot of coffee, booted up her laptop, and got to it. Recent marketing campaigns, industry statistics, any sales figures that were public—she went for it all. She scribbled notes, copied and pasted things into spreadsheets. She absorbed information until her head swam with it.
She sat back in her chair and tipped her head from side to side, trying to work out some of the tension that had settled at the base of her neck and between her shoulders. She glanced at the clock. More than three hours hunched over the computer. She shook her head. Some habits, it seemed, stayed with a person.
Still, it had been a productive three hours. She knew more about the premium spirit industry than she probably cared to, but couldn’t bring herself to be bothered. In truth, she liked the research, almost as much for learning something new as for getting a business edge. It had served her well with clients, even if her colleagues thought it overkill. It showed she cared, was invested. A clever idea might win a client, but that investment was what earned their trust.
Cam was no different. Maybe she wanted to impress her, but it was mostly about doing a good job. And since gin was not in her wheelhouse, she needed to study up. Fortunately, she’d learned high-end alcohol was a distant cousin to the hospitality industry. Customers tied brand to lifestyle and, by extension, identity. That set the stage for building brand loyalty, and that was one hundred percent in her wheelhouse.
Her biggest challenge, aside from Cam’s skepticism, might be the brand itself. Or, perhaps more accurately, the lack thereof. She’d tried to free-associate ten words with it and had only come up with three. And they weren’t even a good three. She might be wrong, but she had a feeling Cam wouldn’t do much better.
A challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Some days, she preferred starting with a blank slate. It meant less mess to undo and overcome. All she’d need to overcome was Cam.
Lauren sat up straight, a second wave of energy zipping through her. She regretted not installing a white board first thing, or ordering any oversize sketch pads. Undeterred, she grabbed a notebook and a set of colored pencils. She closed her eyes for a count of ten. When the time was up, she went to work, jotting words and doodles as fast as her hand would go.
Her ideas wound themselves into concepts, and she settled on four distinct themes—not entirely different, but each unique. She ripped the pages from the notebook and started fresh, refining each one into a draft she could show Cam. She nodded as she worked. She already had a favorite, but really, any of them could work.
She missed this. Work in general, but especially the burst of creative energy in the beginning, when possibilities stretched out in front of her like an endless horizon. The only thing better was presenting the finished product, watching the client’s face and knowing she’d completely nailed it. She imagined that moment with Cam—satisfaction and excitement mixed with just a hint of awe. God, did she want to see that look on Cam’s face. If she and Cam never made it into bed, that would be the next best thing.
The knock on the door jolted her back to the present. “Come in.”
Mrs. Lucas popped her head in. “Are you all right, dear?”
Lauren dropped the pencil, distracted enough to notice how badly her hand had begun to cramp. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s eight, dear. You always come in for dinner by seven or so.”
She looked at the clock, more instinct than not believing the assertion. “Wow. I completely lost track of time.”
Mrs. Lucas shook her head. “You work so hard. I don’t know if it’s your age or your big city ways.”
Lauren chuckled. In New York, calling it quits by eight was a good day. On more than one occasion, she’d spent the night in her office, taking a shower in the company gym and sending her assistant to her apartment for a fresh change of clothes. She might miss the work, but she didn’t miss the hours. Should that worry her?
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, yes. Thank you for checking on me. I’m coming now.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Lucas she’d probably put in another two or three hours after dinner.
“I did beef for the Sunday roast and there’s a bit left. Shall I do you a plate of that?”
“That sounds lovely.” It did, but she’d eaten more meat in the last three weeks than the three months prior. She mentally bumped menu overhaul to the top of her personal to-do list.
Mrs. Lucas turned, not waiting to see if Lauren agreed or followed her. “You go relax. I’ll bring it out to you.”
Lauren’s heart softened at the maternal tone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been clucked over like that. Mrs. Lucas bustled into the kitchen, and Lauren headed for the dining room. The pub had all of seven people in it, counting Charlotte. She didn’t even bother suppressing a sigh. Tilly loped over to say hello. She’d proved herself to be affectionate but not overeager—exactly the type of dog Lauren would choose were she inclined to get one.
She caught Charlotte’s eye. “What are you still doing here?”
“Jack was feeling a bit under the weather, so I offered to cover for him.”
The explanation, delivered casually like it was the most obvious answer in the world, made her smile. She’d been here a few weeks, but the easygoing, almost familial way, everyone seemed to go about things still caught her off guard. It was so far removed from her own experiences—at work or with her family. “That’s nice of you.”
Charlotte shrugged off the compliment. “I haven’t seen you all day. What have you been up to?”
“Learning about gin.”
Her brow lifted. “A day at Barrister’s?”
Lauren’s mind went to her afternoon at the distillery. And to Cam. “I wish. No, I was doing research. Much less fun.”
Charlotte folded her arms and leaned forward on the bar. “What kind of research?”
She wouldn’t show her ideas to Charlotte. First look was something always reserved for the client. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t pick her brain a bit. “What do you think about Carriage House?”
Charlotte gave her a curious look. “What do you mean? Like the taste? It’s hands-down my favorite gin.”
Lauren smiled. “Can’t disagree with you there. I’m thinking more about its image, the brand.”
Charlotte pointed at her. “Ah. You’re working on the marketing thing.”
“I am. But I can’t build a marketing plan unless I know what I’m marketing.”
“And reall
y fucking good gin isn’t enough to go on?”
Lauren laughed. “No, it’s not. Because, technically, Barrister’s is really fucking good gin, too.”
“A close second in my book, but I know what you mean.”
“Right. Okay. So, when you think of Barrister’s, what do you think? Not the taste, but the brand, what it stands for.”
“Oh, I see.” Charlotte nodded. “Um, classic. Traditional, but not in a bad way. Classy but not pretentious.”
“Exactly. That’s the brand. And, for Barrister’s, it works perfectly.” Lauren tapped on the bar with her finger. “But what about Carriage House?”
“More modern. What’s the word Americans use? Hip.”
Lauren nodded. “Do you get that from the brand or just by comparing it to Barrister’s?”
Charlotte frowned. “Just by comparison, I guess.”
“Don’t feel bad. That’s important for me to know. The whole point is giving Carriage House an identity of its own.” Again she thought of a blank canvas.
“What did Cam say when you asked her?”
Lauren lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t asked her yet.”
“But you’re going to?”
She thought about so many clients she’d worked with in the past—well-intentioned but way too close to the products they’d created. She really hoped Cam wasn’t like that. “Yes. In the end, she’s the one making the decisions. But I want to give her something to respond to. I want that something to come from more than my own impressions.”
Charlotte nodded slowly. “You’re really good at this, aren’t you?”
Lauren angled her head. “Marketing?”
“Yeah. I mean, I understand it’s your career and all, but you don’t just do it. You kill it. I can tell.”
Something about the compliment made Lauren feel sentimental. Like she’d lost track of how much she loved her work in the train wreck of the last few weeks. She had this urge to give Charlotte a hug, but thought better of it. “I have my moments.”
“I’m glad you’re here. The pub needs someone like you. And even if she’s not quick to admit it, Cam does, too.”
Lauren let Charlotte’s words sink it. She’d been so focused on what she needed—to pull herself together, get a win, get back on her feet—she’d not really given a lot of thought to being what anyone else might need. A little knot in her chest loosened, and she smiled. “Thanks.”
Chapter Eleven
After being cooped up in her office, the prospect of a day out brought even more excitement than usual to Lauren’s morning. Even better was the goal of scouting new things for the inn. Charlotte offered to be her guide, and she readily accepted. Not only was shopping more fun with a friend, she really wanted to get to know Charlotte better. And doing so outside of their working relationship seemed like the perfect way to do it.
Lauren made a wish list of things she wanted and tried to keep her expectations low. She liked to think she had a good eye for design. She’d decorated her apartment on her own and considered the result stylish and modern, clean but not impersonal. Designing twelve rooms, though, felt more than a little daunting. On a shoestring budget. And a tight timeline. And with little more than the internet at her disposal.
She’d just have to tackle it like any new project—commit to a concept and then break each component down to its essential function. That’s how she landed accounts, how she won over clients, and the way she accomplished pretty much everything in life. And it had always worked. Well, almost always.
She finished getting dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She squared her shoulders and checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Out of nowhere, Cam’s face came into her mind. Okay, maybe not out of nowhere. She’d been thinking about Cam a lot. They’d spent, not a ton of time together, but some. And each time they did, she found herself liking Cam more and more.
Given the strength of her attraction to Cam, liking her on top of it felt like the slippery slope to a full-blown crush. Not that there was anything wrong with a crush in principle. The problem was that Cam seemed so far on the other side of things. Still, spending time at the distillery had helped on that front. Maybe it was feeling in her element, having something she loved to focus on. She’d let her guard down for sure. It had been nice. It had been sexy, too.
Lauren sighed. No time for daydreaming. She had rooms to decorate and a deadline on the horizon.
She headed downstairs and let Tilly out. They’d established quite the routine, and Lauren found it soothing, charming even. Once Tilly was fed and set for the day, Lauren let herself out the back door. As if on cue, Charlotte turned the corner. Her hatchback was bright blue and had to be at least ten years newer than the car she’d inherited from Albert. Bigger, too. It wouldn’t hold furniture, but they’d be able to fit lots of odds and ends into it. And the best part—Charlotte would be driving. After her misadventures on the way to the sheep farm, she’d been hesitant to venture out behind the wheel.
“Morning, lovely,” Charlotte said when Lauren climbed into the passenger seat.
“Good morning. I’m so excited for today. Thank you again for coming with me.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I enjoy a nice poke around a shop.”
“A woman after my own heart. Which is why I’m doubly glad we’re going together. You can show me all the good spots.”
“Don’t get too excited. There aren’t that many spots to be had, at least not close by.”
“I’ll take what I can get. And anything I can find locally should make Cam happy. I’ll need that to balance everything I buy online.”
Charlotte turned at the corner, taking them in a direction Lauren had yet to explore, and laughed. “You seem to have her figured out pretty quick.”
“On some fronts, at least.” Too bad she’d yet to figure out the one at the forefront of her mind—why she was so damned attracted to a woman who seemed to barely tolerate her.
“She’s a total cream puff underneath, but her exterior can be a bit tough.”
Lauren thought back to the first real conversation she had with Charlotte, the one where Charlotte owned her and Cam had been in a relationship. What was the phrase she’d used? Ages ago. “Does that come from personal experience?”
Charlotte gave her a bit of a sideways glance. “How much do you want to know?”
Well, the answer could nip her crush in the bud or it could fan the flames. Either way, she preferred working with more information rather than less. “As much as you’re interested in sharing.”
“Right, then. Well, we were an item for a little while. We were much younger. Early twenties.”
“How did it end?” The question was out of Lauren’s mouth before she had a chance to filter herself. Charlotte didn’t seem bothered, fortunately.
“Cam is pretty traditional. I am not, at least when it comes to relationships.”
Lauren smiled. “No desire to be tied down?”
“Oh, I love being tied down, or up.” Charlotte glanced her way long enough to offer a wink. “I also think it makes no sense to say you’re only going to have sex with one person for the rest of your life.”
“Oh.” Anja was poly, a fact that Lauren found infinitely fascinating. Even if it wasn’t for her, she could see the appeal.
“Too much?”
Lauren smiled. “Not at all. I was just thinking of my best friend, who has a similar approach to things.”
“That’s a relief. I’m not closeted about it, but there are still plenty of people who think I’m a slut.” Charlotte crinkled her nose. “Presuming, of course, that being a slut is a bad thing.”
Lauren laughed then. She knew she’d liked Charlotte, but something about this exchange took things to a whole different level. Like they were sharing intimacies. “I am not one of those people.”
Charlotte lifted her shoulders and let them fall. It seemed to Lauren like a gesture of relaxation, which made her glad. “Do you think you and Cam will—?”
/>
She cut herself off, as though realizing she shouldn’t ask, or maybe more accurately, didn’t want to know the answer. Lauren chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Cam hates me.”
“Stop. She does not.” Charlotte’s words were emphatic, but her body language said something different.
“You don’t need to sugarcoat it. She’s been quite clear.” Lauren flashed back to the day at the distillery. “I’m winning her over, though.”
Charlotte glanced at her sideways. “I might be overstepping, but I think part of the reason she’s resistant is because she finds you attractive.”
It would be fun to take that at face value, assume all she had to do was wear down Cam’s initial defenses and then they could—what? Sleep together? Date? That was the problem. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she couldn’t seem to get Cam out of her head, a fact that proved especially difficult at night, when she was tucked in all alone thinking about how long it had been since she’d shared her bed with a woman.
“Was that too far? I’m sorry.”
Lauren snapped out of her thoughts to find Charlotte regarding her with concern. She shook her head. “Not at all. I was just trying to decide if you were right and, if so, what I wanted to do about it.”
At that, Charlotte offered her a smile that was full of mischief and reminded her so much of Anja it gave her a pang of missing her. Maybe she could get Anja to visit sooner. She’d angle for that. In the meantime, she had a delightful new friend and shopping to do.
* * *
It didn’t surprise Cam that Lauren had already worked up some ideas for a marketing campaign. From what she’d seen so far, Lauren went about everything like a tornado—unbridled energy that seemed to sweep up everything in its path. But she’d not expected a formal business meeting, set up via email and with all the professional courtesies. Nor had she expected Lauren to walk in like she was taking a meeting on Fifth Avenue.
But that’s exactly what she got. Cam got to the pub a little early to see Charlotte and Lauren stride in from her office with an oversize portfolio. Not that she had a lot of experience with such things, but all Cam could think was that she looked like a power femme on a mission. She’d been so obvious in staring that Charlotte had to elbow her in the ribs. There’d be teasing about that later for sure. Lauren even shook her hand and thanked her for coming in before gesturing to a table near the window.
