by Vivian Wood
“Are we talking about a rumpy-pumpy sort of colleague here?” Thomas asked as the waiter brought over a fresh round of drinks for them.
“No,” Smith said, too quickly to be believable.
Smith ignored the second unconvinced look they all traded as he reached for his new drink, thinking he would have to consume far more alcohol than this if they were hellbent on having this particular conversation with him right now.
Luckily, he was saved from further interrogation when something behind him caught their attention.
Or someone, rather.
James let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Gents, I think my future wife just walked through the door.”
Charlie smirked. “Why would a girl like that look twice at your ugly mug, when there are far more attractive options at this table?”
“Yeah, like me,” Thomas chimed in, his eyes also riveted on whoever they were ogling.
Curiosity piqued, Smith half turned in his seat to see who they were talking about, and his heart stilled in his chest.
Only to start beating again, twice as hard as it had been moments before.
Because there stood Cameron, her neck slightly craned as she searched for him amongst the tables, looking positively breathtaking.
She wore a dark navy cocktail dress made of lace that clung to every inch of her, forming to her body like a second skin. The blue of her dress complemented her fair complexion and red hair wonderfully, making her look positively radiant in the soft lighting of the dining room. And of course she’d rounded out the entire ensemble with her now signature stockings and matching black fuck-me pumps. Smith couldn’t look away from her, even if he wanted to.
He and his friends weren’t the only ones whose attention she’d garnered either. Smith noted that nearly every male head in her vicinity was turned her way, like moths drawn to an irresistible flame. The realization made Smith feel instantly possessive over her. He had to fight the irrational urge to go full-on neanderthal by stomping over there and staking his claim on her with an inappropriate display of affection.
Smith’s struggles with his jealousy were forgotten when Cameron suddenly turned her head in his direction and their eyes locked from across the room. A tightness eased in his chest that Smith hadn’t even realized was there until it was already gone, and, for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people on the Earth, let alone in this restaurant.
“Shit, she’s headed this way,” someone--Charlie maybe--said. “If she asks, I’m not married.”
“I doubt it comes up,” James replied. “Red is only coming over here to ask me where I’ve been all her life.”
“I’m afraid you’re both wrong,” Smith said without turning around, his eyes only for Cameron.
He stood as she approached their table, taking her hand in his as he lifted it to his mouth so he could kiss the back of it. Her familiar vanilla scent enveloped him fully, and it was all Smith could do to not just stand there and breathe it in.
“Hi,” he murmured against her skin, so softly that only she could hear him. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
Cameron gave a barely perceptible shiver as he lowered her hand, but didn’t release it. Their eyes met again, and, when a slight blush bloomed across her cheeks, Smith had to repress his own shiver of excitement as he recalled once again what had happened between them the last time he’d seen her.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Cameron said, keeping her voice as low as he had. She gave a small shrug and a sheepish half-smile. “I wasn’t sure what to wear to this thing.”
“You look perfect,” Smith reassured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as his eyes traveled over her body again, unable to resist the temptation when she was standing here before him looking like this. “Absolutely exquisite.”
The sound of a throat being pointedly cleared from behind them made Smith remember that they were not alone here. He released Cameron’s hand as they both turned to face the table where his friends were sitting, their expressions quizzically amused.
“Guys, this is Cameron. Cameron, this is Charlie, James, and Thomas,” Smith said, indicating each of the men as he introduced them.
“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Cameron said politely as she seated herself at the table in the chair that Smith pulled out for her.
“And what a pleasure it is,” James replied, giving her a cheeky smile. “Smith failed to mention how beautiful his colleague was when he told us you’d be joining us.”
Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but Smith cut her off.
“Ignore him,” he said to her as he reclaimed his seat to her left. He glared at James from across the table. “He thinks he’s far wittier than he actually is.”
“One doesn’t require wit to proclaim such truths,” James quipped, his gaze still on Cameron. “Only eyes.”
Cameron giggled at James’ unsubtle attempts at flirting with her, while Smith just rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright, enough of that,” Charlie interjected impatiently, waving a hand at James. “Keep talking, and you’ll scare the poor girl off.”
“I’m just making conversation,” James said innocently, throwing a wink at Cameron as he faced her again. “Isn’t that right, love?”
Cameron laughed once more. Smith just shook his head exasperatedly at James, who gave Smith a wide, unapologetic grin in return.
“Would you like a drink?” Smith asked Cameron, opting for a change in subject, rather than give James the satisfaction of arguing further.
“A whiskey, neat. Or maybe a scotch,” she said, smiling wryly up at him.
“A whiskey girl, huh?” Thomas said from where he was sitting at Cameron’s right. He nodded his head in approval. “I like a girl that knows how to drink properly.”
“Yeah, you and every other Brit at this table,” Charlie grumbled as Thomas stopped a passing waiter to put in Cameron’s drink order before he bustled off to the bar.
“Don’t mind Charlie, here,” Thomas whispered conspiratorially to Cameron as he turned back to the table. “He’s just put out because he’s married and has nothing left to look forward to in life.”
Charlie scoffed as Thomas and James both laughed.
“I’ll have you know that I love my wife very much,” Charlie said, crossing his arms defiantly.
“That’s not what it sounded like five minutes ago,” James said, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
Charlie scowled, but didn’t say anything else to his defense.
To her credit, Cameron just smiled along patiently as she observed their squabbling, as if men vying for her attention was something she’d learned to endure long before now.
“So, how do you all know each other?” Cameron asked conversationally as the waiter returned and placed her drink down before her.
“We met at Cambridge. We all went to university there together,” Smith said, taking up his scotch again.
“I didn’t know you went to Cambridge,” Cameron said, sounding intrigued as she looked over at him.
“I did,” Smith said with a nod, smiling at her expression. “Why? Are you surprised?”
Cameron shook her head, but returned his smile. “No, just... impressed, I guess.”
“Smithy here was always good at impressing the ladies, weren’t ya?” Charlie teased, eagerly picking on the new topic.
Smith would have liked to throttle him for that, but Cameron just laughed.
“Oh, I’m sure he was,” she said coyly, taking a sip of her drink as she gave Smith a taunting smile that made the other three men chuckle.
Smith rolled his eyes, but he was quietly pleased that Cameron seemed to be comfortable with his friends, bloody asshats that they were.
“That was before I enlisted in the SAS,” he said, for Cameron’s benefit, more so than anyone else's.
“Yeah. And then we didn’t see his ass for four years after that,” Thomas added. “By that time, we’d all already relocated to the States for business reasons.
”
“What do you guys all do for a living?” Cameron asked curiously, looking around the table at each of them.
They each went on to explain their separate realms of work, but Smith lost track of the conversation soon after that, too preoccupied with watching Cameron to follow along.
She was just so fucking gorgeous, he was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than how close they were sitting together. Everything about her made his body come alive in response, from her revealing dress, to her intoxicating smell, to the way she tipped her head back slightly when she laughed.
He wanted so badly to touch her right now. He could easily reach over, his hand hidden by the tablecloth as he slid it up her thigh to the hem of her dress, and up further still, without anyone the wiser.
Save for Cameron, that is. But Smith didn’t think she would take too kindly to being fondled under the table in such a public place while his oblivious friends chatted away at her.
Smith watched as Cameron lifted her drink to her lips to take a sip. Her red hair was swept up into a complicated looking twist on the back of her head, leaving her shoulders and the slender column of her neck exposed. He knew he was staring, but he was too transfixed by the action of her swallowing to look away.
Smith didn’t register the uncharacteristic silence that had fallen around the table until Cameron set her glass back down, releasing him from whatever spell he’d been under.
Smith could feel the other men’s eyes on him as he finally looked away from her, and he made the regrettable mistake of meeting James’ gaze from across the table. The bastard just smirked knowingly at him, eyebrows raised.
Maybe bringing her to meet them was a bad idea, Smith thought belatedly, quashing the urge to shift around in his seat, made suddenly uncomfortable by James’ evident scrutiny of the situation.
Whatever he had--or didn’t have--going on with Cameron was just so fresh and raw, he didn’t even know how to validate it to himself, let alone other people.
And it didn’t help that his so-called friends were shameless shit-starters, either.
“So tell us, Cameron,” James said, breaking the silence as his eyes flicked between her and Smith. “How do you two know each other? Smith was devastatingly vague while divulging the... nature of your relationship with him.” James gave her a smile that was nothing short of feline as he cocked his head to the side. “I was hoping you could shed some light for us.”
Smith felt, more than saw, Cameron stiffen in her seat at James’ enquiry. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she formulated a response, busying himself with draining the last of his scotch from his glass.
“Smith and I work together,” Cameron said carefully, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “I’m his--”
“Environmental consultant,” Smith finished for her, setting his glass back on the table. He could practically feel the waves of relief rolling off of her as he came to her aid. “You know, save the Earth and all that.”
“Is that so?” James said, clearly unconvinced.
“Yep. Calloway Corp called my firm because they were looking for ways to go green,” Cameron said with a shrug, playing right along with Smith’s unplanned deception as if she had thought of the lie herself. “Studies show that younger generations are more sustainability-conscious than their predecessors were. Becoming eco-friendly is a must if you want to ensure your business’ relevance in the consumer market of tomorrow.”
There was a beat of stunned silence from the men at the table, Smith included, as Cameron finished up her fake sales pitch by taking a heavy gulp of her drink.
You cunning little fox! Smith thought, completely taken aback by Cameron’s acting skill. Hell, even I halfway believe her after that.
Smith looked around the table, having to suppress a laugh as he took in his friends’ astonished expressions. However, he couldn’t hold back his smug smile when he met James’ eyes once more.
James was positively gaping, obviously not having expected such a sound explanation any more than Smith had.
James recovered quicker than Smith would have preferred, though.
“Sounds interesting,” James said, leaning forward as he eyed her up. Smith didn’t fail to notice the way his gaze lingered on her cleavage as he spoke. “What, exactly, does a man have to do to get a private consultation with you?”
And just like that, Smith had reached his limit for humoring James’ questions about her any further. He’d been happy to avoid the whole dipping into the company ink conversation, but he really hadn’t wanted to give James the impression that Cameron was free for the taking, either.
Smith was just about to answer on her behalf, when Cameron surprised him again with her own quick reply.
“Unfortunately, I’ll be working exclusively with Calloway Corp for the foreseeable future,” she said, giving James an apologetic smile. “But if you’re really interested, I’d be more than happy to give you the contact information for one of my fellow consultants. His name is Dave, and I’m sure he could accommodate your needs as well as I can.”
James sat back in his chair, dejected by her counteroffer.
“Yeah, I doubt that somehow,” he muttered, looking down at his glass as he swirled its contents around before taking a swig.
Cameron just kept on smiling. “Well, let Smith know if you change your mind. I’m sure he’d be happy to forward you my company’s info.”
Yeah, not likely.
Seeing as how now was as good a time as ever to make an exit, Smith made a show of checking his watch for the time.
“Well, will you look at that,” he exclaimed as he looked down at his Blancpain. “It’s getting late. I should probably see Cameron home now.”
His excuse to get her away wasn’t nearly as convincing as Cameron’s performance had been if the eyerolls he was getting from around the table were any indication, but he didn’t care. He was done sharing her with them for the time being. He wanted her all to himself now.
Smith pushed back from the table and stood, helping Cameron from her own chair.
“It was lovely meeting all of you,” she said, giving them all one last smile.
“Likewise,” Thomas said, while Charlie nodded along.
James seemed to rally himself a little then.
“You’ll let me know when you’re a free agent again, won’t you Ms. Cameron?” James asked, giving her a wink.
Cameron laughed. “Sure,” she said, turning to leave.
Smith said his own hasty farewells, before following after her.
“An environmental consultant, huh?” Cameron teased as they strolled down the sidewalk, side by side.
“Yeah, sorry about that. It was all I could come up with on the spot.”
Smith had offered to call a car to take her home since she lived a bit of a ways away from Haro, but Cameron had declined, saying that it was such a nice night, she’d rather walk home instead.
So, being the gentleman that he usually wasn’t, Smith chivalrously decided to see her safely there.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Smith shook his head, but he chuckled anyway. “If you call them panting after you like lovestruck schoolboys nice, then yeah, I guess they are.”
Cameron looked up at him. “Did that bother you?”
Smith just shrugged, unsure how to answer that without revealing his feelings for her.
My feelings for her?
Before he could investigate that unbidden thought any further, Cameron spoke again.
“Or is it just that you don’t really like them in general?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Smith sighed, feeling suddenly tired. “It’s not that I don’t like them, per se. It’s just... they remind me of why I decided to join the SAS, so that I could avoid becoming a moneyed asshole who gets what I want, when I want it, just because I’m wealthy.” He shook his head. “I feel like I’m slowly becoming like that, despite all my efforts otherwise. I feel like
I’m becoming my father.”
They were both silent for a few moments as they continued walking, their shoulders brushing together every few steps or so.
“Is it because of me?” Cameron asked, somewhat hesitantly.
Smith squinted at her in the darkness. “What do you mean?”
“You feeling like you’re your father; is it because of your involvement with me?”
Smith thought about that for a second, before nodding.
“For the most part, yeah,” Smith admitted reluctantly.
“Oh,” Cameron said, her voice sounding suddenly small.
Smith groaned, running his hands through his hair as they both stopped walking. He wasn’t saying any of this right, but he needed her to know that he wasn’t blaming her.
“You have to understand,” he said as he faced her, his voice almost pleading as he explained. “My mother committed suicide when I was ten, leaving me and my father behind to cope with her loss.”
“Oh, Smith. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said, reaching out to take his hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.
He returned the squeeze with one of his own. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said with a sad smile.
“Still, it sucks anyway,” she said, her eyes earnest as she looked up at him.
Smith couldn’t argue with that logic.
“That it does,” he said, nodding his agreement. “I struggled to get over her death for a long time. But my father…” Smith blew out a big breath as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “My father seemed to skip the mourning process entirely. After she was gone, it was almost like she never even existed in the first place, at least for him. All he cared about was using his wealth and power to fuck any woman he fancied, most of them under his personal employ, and I hated him for that.”
Smith took a moment to rein in his emotions. He was surprised by how hard he was breathing. Talking about this was not something he’d ever done before, and it made everything feel so raw and festered.
“I vowed I’d do anything to avoid becoming like him,” Smith said more calmly than he felt. He finally opened his eyes again so he could see her face. “But then you just showed up out of nowhere and…”
