by Emma Hart
Why couldn’t they have popped into the office where I could have escaped?
“Hey.” Cameron stopped with his hand on the door. “You’ll be fine. I promise I won’t leave you alone all night.”
I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, either. “I don’t know enough about real estate to be of any use here at all.”
“Look.” He released the door and stepped toward me. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll refer to you as my new assistant all night, and nobody will ask you a thing except how you like working for me.”
“And I should probably refrain from mentioning my current list of mishaps.”
His eyes glinted with humor. “Not that your affinity for mischief isn’t adorable, but yes.”
“You think the fact I’m a total klutz is adorable?”
“Yeah, but I also think babies are cute, and they shit and scream, so take that as you will.”
“I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that,” I said, eyeing the door right before it opened.
I knew instantly the woman in the frame was Cameron’s mother. Not only did she have the same, bright blue eyes that he had, but she just looked like she would match the voice on the phone.
I know. It was a weird thing, but that was how I felt about it.
She was tall and slim and looked ten years younger than she had to be. She had dark brown hair that was pulled back into what seemed like an elegant chignon at the base of her neck with a few wisps framing her face.
She pursed dark red lips and turned her attention to Cameron, sliding her hands over her black dress as she did so. “Why are you standing here on the steps? Don’t you know I have things for you to do inside?”
“You look beautiful, Mom,” he replied, stepping forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “We were just talking about tonight, not delaying anything.”
Shrewd blue eyes darted my way. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding introducing me to your assistant, especially since the poor woman is still standing there while we talk.”
Good God, the woman was intimidating.
Cameron took a deep breath and smiled. “Good thing you know better, huh?” He tossed me a wink and touched a hand to the small of my back, forcing me to take a step toward the woman who, I was almost sure, was of the devil. “Mom, this is my new assistant, Mallory Harper. Mallory, this is my mother, Cordelia Reid.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Reid,” I said, extending my hand to her.
She took it, her lips twitching as we shook. “The feeling is mutual, Miss Harper. As I said on the phone, I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”
“Oh, please call me Mallory. Miss Harper is my aunt, and, well…” I shot Cameron a look.
“She’s an interesting woman,” he said dryly. “Wants to know what’s wrong with me because, to quote her loosely, I’m young, rich, and handsome, yet single.”
“Yes, well, we’re all wondering that, dear,” Cordelia said simply and turned to me. “In that case, Mallory, please call me Cordelia.”
“Coincidentally,” Cameron added, “The conversation with Mallory’s aunt was quite uncomfortable. Not unlike this one. Shall we go inside before the neighbors pry?”
Cordelia sniffed. “Yes. That Louise Mayfair across the street is desperate to find out how I keep my roses so alive. I wouldn’t put it past her to start a rumor that you’re dating.”
“It would stop your friends trying to set me up with their daughters,” Cameron muttered, touching my back to guide me inside. “And trust me, I’ve been out with women far worse than Mallory.”
Although probably not as much of a hot mess as me, but whatever.
“I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way, darling.” Cordelia reached back and checked her chignon without looking at us. She led the way like an army captain leading his men to battle. “But I do so hate rumors. Anyway. How is work? Are you keeping busy? Mallory, how are you settling in?”
Wow. So many questions.
I glanced at Cameron.
He half-grinned at me, directing me into the kitchen after his mom. It was freaking huge—the white cupboards all gleamed, and the island housed both a wine rack and some seating for four people. The other end of the kitchen held a huge television on the wall and a large, U-shaped sofa in cream leather. Through a large archway I could see a dining room with a long, rectangular table, and another arch led to what I presumed was the living room.
“Work is good,” Cameron said, taking the lead on the conversation. “We booked several viewings today, and Mallory has four new properties to list on the website on Monday. I also think I’ve decided on the new permanent agent, so downstairs is expanding nicely, too.”
She nodded.
Cameron nudged me, and I realized it was my turn to answer the question she’d directed at me.
“Oh—I think it’s going well. I’ve done a lot of admin work before, starting for my dad when I was a teen, so it’s more a change of setting than anything. I haven’t spent a lot of time with the others, but Cameron’s made me feel very welcome.”
“As he should. That’s his job.” She nodded and turned around. “I’m glad you’re settling in, darling. It’s a gratifying job. That’s how I met Cameron’s father, you know. I was his assistant.”
“No, you didn’t.” Cameron took a bottle of white wine from an ice bucket. “You knew each other before you worked for him. You only tell the story this way because you think it’s more romantic.”
She batted her long eyelashes. “Is that a problem?”
“No, but I keep telling you—if you want to fictionalize your love story, write a damn book.” He turned his attention to me. “Is Sauvignon Blanc okay?”
I took a deep breath and nodded. I wasn’t going to lie, I was incredibly intimidated by Cordelia, but at the same time, I kind of really wanted to be her friend.
She was very prim and proper, almost stereotypical British-like in her mannerisms despite being American, but I could see that she had a good heart beneath her somewhat cold exterior.
She struck me as the kind of woman who liked things done, but only if they were done her way.
I could relate. I was also partial to having things done my way.
Although that was probably more of a female thing than it is an individual trait…
“Thank you,” I managed to eke out when Cameron handed me the glass.
He gave me a smile that made my heart thud. You know the kind—slow and lazy but stupidly sexy.
Or maybe that was the suit. Or both. I didn’t know. I did, however, know that I was developing a crush on my boss that I needed to get over pronto.
“Fine, I’ll write a book,” Cordelia said, accepting her own glass from Cameron. “But I’m still going to tell Mallory all about it.”
“I have no doubt,” Cameron said dryly.
***
There were a lot of people here.
A lot of wealthy people. As in, they wore earrings that cost more than my entire outfit, and this red dress was one I’d splurged on for special occasions.
I’d spent the last ninety minutes attached to Cameron’s side. In fact, he’d had one hand on me almost the entire evening, and I hated to admit that his hand on my back or my arm had made me feel a lot better.
He was obviously familiar with these people, and quite honestly, it was just about enough to make me have a good think about this weird little crush I was developing on him.
This was a whole different world.
All I had going for me at this point was the fact I hadn’t yet tripped over my own feet, spilled a drink, or walked into anyone.
Mind you, the drink thing was probably because Cameron was firmly in control of pouring wine, and he was only filling my glass halfway. That probably had something to do with the fact that it was the ‘proper’ way to drink wine, but I’d never taken much stock with that.
In fact, wine was about the only liquid I’d never spilled. Alcohol in general, actually
.
Coffee? Sure. Water? Always. Juice? Quite regularly.
Alcohol? The nectar of the Gods? Hell to the no.
I smiled as a couple whose names I’d already forgotten left us in peace. Cameron melted us back into the corner of the living room and once again pressed his hand to my back, leaning down.
His mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his breath skitter across my skin. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m not really a fancy mixer type of person,” I said slowly. “I’d go for Chex Mix over hors-d’oeuvres.”
“Me, too. Chex Mix, popcorn, chips and salsa…” He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t go for these parties either, but my mother loves them.”
It was true enough. Cordelia had been holding court all evening so far, the absolute epitome of a perfect hostess. She’d hired servers who mingled with champagne on trays and those fucky little snacks I’d been avoiding.
I’d heard there was dessert, and I was holding out.
“How does she do it?” I asked Cameron, leaning into him a little. “She actually enjoys being around people, doesn’t she?”
He chuckled, dropping his chin. “She does. She’s extremely sociable. She thrives on being around other people, especially when they’re as driven and formidable as she is.”
“Formidable. That’s one word for her.”
“I feel like she and your aunt would get along.”
I shuddered. “Don’t. Did she really ask you what was wrong with you?”
He nodded, shoulders shaking with laughter. “She did. She asked me why I was single, and when I said I didn’t understand, she said that I was young, rich, and handsome, then asked what was wrong with me. Luckily, your mom saved me at that point.”
“And proceeded to tell you she’d accept you as a son-in-law.”
“Yeah, but only because I approved of her drinking.”
“That will do it,” I mused. “It’s kind of tense right now. We don’t all get along often because we all have quite strong personalities. At least on my mom’s side. My dad pretty much just sits there and lets us all get on with it.”
“Like mine?” He laughed, nodding toward where his dad was standing to the side of his mom, nursing a whiskey, watching the world go by.
I giggled behind my hand. His dad was everything his mom wasn’t—quiet, sweet, and wrapped me in a big bear hug the second he’d laid eyes on me. But I sensed he had a tough interior that meant he would slaughter anyone who dared cross him or his family.
In a weird way, they were like yin and yang, fitting perfectly together.
It was apparent now as we watched them. She held everyone’s attention, telling an exciting story that included hand movements and raucous laughter from her group. He stood beside her, smiling and watching her with what could only be described as pure love.
It reminded me a lot of my parents.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I looked toward Cameron. He’d been watching me watch them, and I cocked my head as if to ask what he was looking at, but all he did was smile, shrug, and turn toward the young woman walking toward us.
She was beelining for him.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
“What?”
I swear, his hand crept an inch closer to my hip, almost as if he was gripping tighter to me.
“Cameron!” She stepped up and air-kissed him, despite his reluctance to return the gesture.
I wasn’t shocked that she was tall and blonde and incredibly pretty.
Weren’t all the thorns in your side tall, blonde, and beautiful?
She touched a hand to his arm, leaning in flirtatiously. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, Rachel. Have you met my new assistant, Mallory?”
She flicked a baby-blue gaze my way. “No.”
Charming.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said, stepping a little closer.
Cameron responded by taking a step back. I wanted to tell him that wasn’t a good idea because we were in a corner, and there was a big-ass wall behind us that would stop his escape.
“I couldn’t get through,” Rachel continued, flicking her hair. “Did you get a new number?”
I glanced up at Cameron. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in that corner with her, and an idea flashed through my mind.
I held my small clutch against my body. “Excuse me, my phone is ringing. Cameron, could you hold this while I take this call?” I shoved my wine glass at him, barely giving him time to answer.
I walked away, making a big show of diving into my purse for my phone. It caught the attention of Cordelia who looked at Cameron and Rachel and then me, frowning. I waved my phone at her, making sure to show her the back, and smiled.
As soon as she turned her attention back to them, I slipped into the spacious back yard and away from a large group of expensively-dressed people to fake my call.
Plastering concern on my face, I nodded, making several ‘mm-ing’ noises and acting as though there was an emergency on the end of the line.
I could feel eyes on me from inside, so I held the phone to my collarbone as if I were protecting the call and slipped back inside. Cordelia’s eyes followed me the entire way as I sidled up to Cameron.
Rachel was even closer to him than she had been when I’d left, and I had to stifle a smile as I touched his arm.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” I said, looking between them both, absolutely not sorry at all. “Cameron, Amanda just called about a problem with a listing she needs to put up on Monday. Do you have a minute to speak to her?”
“Now?” He checked his watch. “Isn’t it a little late?”
“She said earlier she was taking some work home to get ahead. She’s on the line.” I pointed at my phone and grimaced.
He stared at me for a second. “Sure. Rachel—sorry. Have to handle this.”
He touched my upper back and guided me out into the hallway, then into another room and shut the door. Bookcases lined the wall to my left, and a desk with an expensive-looking computer was at the far end, framed by windows that looked out onto beautifully manicured gardens.
“Mom’s study,” he said, obviously seeing my confusion. “Pass the phone.”
I was still holding it to my collarbone. “Oh.” I pulled it away and looked at it before showing him the screen. “No, it’s fine. She didn’t call.” I shrugged.
“What?” He froze, staring at me, a frown creasing his brow. “What do you mean, she didn’t call?”
I shrugged again. “You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but with Rachel, so I faked the call to get you away.”
Cameron stared at me for a long moment. “You’re a genius.”
“Please, I’m a woman. Do you know how many phone calls I’ve faked to get Jade away from a guy who was hitting on her?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s literally part of the playbook. Also, you’re welcome.”
He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Thank you. Seriously. She’s been trying to get me on a date for two years now, but I’m not interested.”
“Well, we just have to wait long enough to make it believable.” I sank into one of the stylish, cream leather chairs that sat close to the desk. “Five minutes or so. Your mom saw me on the phone, so she won’t be suspicious.”
“Were you a spy in another life?”
“No. Like I said: I’m a woman. I’m used to being the wingman who gets rid of unwanted advances.” I smirked. “Also, thanks for bringing my wine.”
He laughed and handed it to me before sitting in the chair opposite me. “You’re welcome. Consider that my thank you.”
“A raise would work.”
“You’ve worked there a week. Settle down.”
“It was worth a shot.” I grinned. “Well, I’m here for you. Appointments, phone calls, house listings, and unwanted advances.”
He barked a laugh, flattening his hand against his stomach. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I winked, probably looking like a sloth with a twitch, and sipped my wine. We sat together in silence for a good couple of minutes, and that allowed me to look around the room.
And at Cameron.
All right, mostly at Cameron.
His suit fit him to perfection. I should have expected it, of course. I was used to him wearing one, but his choice was usually gray. Gray pants, gray jacket, white shirt, black tie. He’d changed it up tonight, wearing a black suit that was closer to a tuxedo than your everyday suit.
His deep blue tie was the only thing that stopped him looking like he was headed to a wedding.
It suited him. Almost more than the gray. Maybe it was the lines the black jacket gave his upper body, the complete illusion of the shape of his torso. I knew without seeing them that his body was packed with muscle. You didn’t have to have X-ray vision to see that the man was blessed in every way possible.
Well. Not every way. I hadn’t—yeah. I wasn’t going down that route.
I broke my stare of him, a spark of fear rocketing through me that he’d notice. The last thing I wanted was for him to realize I’d been checking him out.
Ugh.
But it was so unfair.
I wanted to check him out like a library book.
His dark hair, his hot stubble, his perfect lips, his beautiful blue eyes…
Well, even library books had a time limit. I guessed this was mine, and I wasn’t willing to take on any kind of fine for my staring.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the study opened. Both of us shot up to sit bolt upright, our gazes darting toward it.
It was Cordelia.
She stepped inside, pursing her lips.
“It’s my fault,” I said quickly, standing up.
She held up one hand. “Cameron, your father is sharing a tipple with Leonard Fortune. He’d like you to be there to discuss the potential for a Denver office.”
I swallowed. Hard. That sounded like I was in trouble.
Cameron flashed me a glance before he stood, finishing his wine and putting the empty glass on the desk. “Of course, Mom. Are they in his office?”
She nodded. “Take a decanter of scotch, won’t you? They’re both in an excellent mood, and I daresay a little more of that won’t hurt.”
