Claire and the Lady Billionaire_Book 8

by Giselle Fox

Camille wandered out again behind me. I heard the click of her heels as she took another cruise around the lounge area. “I can’t believe no one has been using this space.”

  “I know,” I called as I dried my hands on a new hand towel. “It was just sitting here. Mina told me it’s been empty for months. They’ve been using it to store old furniture.”

  “I hope no one’s planning to take it,” Camille said.

  “Don’t worry. That’s all been taken care of. It’s yours for as long as you want it.” It was between Mina and me now. Mina loved being in the secret loop. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it! When did you do all of this?”

  “This has pretty much been the project for the last three days. Sabrina helped me. John knows about it too.”

  “I love how you spoil me,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “Thank you.”

  “You need to be spoiled right now. You’ve been working non-stop. You need a break. I figured this was the easiest way for you to take some time for yourself without having to go far. All you need is a little alone time every day to regroup, have a kombucha, sit back and watch a nice beach video.”

  “There’s kombucha too?”

  “In the fridge. I wanted to get it on tap, but… maybe the pool table should come first.”

  “Oh my gosh, you’re hilarious. I’ll never want to leave.”

  “So, how about that massage?”

  Camille’s eyes sparkled. “Alright.”

  A few minutes later she was lying face-down on the table wearing nothing but a white cotton sheet. “I feel so much better already,” she said through the little space in the face cushion. I crouched down and tried to kiss her through the little hole.

  “I have to be honest,” I said as I squirted some massage oil into my hands. “When I first saw this place, I imagined us using it for conjugal visits.”

  Camille chuckled and then turned her head to the side so she could talk. “You built this place for us to have sex in while I’m at work?”

  “Pretty much.” I rubbed my hands together to warm them and then placed them on her back. “Take a deep breath and relax.”

  I felt her lungs fill with air and then empty. “Good, now take one more big breath.” I rocked her body gently from side to side to help wiggle out the remaining tension. I felt her body relax even more.

  “But then I realized that having sex at work is probably completely inappropriate,” I continued, “even though this place is really quite private. We don’t share walls with any of the other offices. There’s a server room with lots of cooling units and loud fans right beside us. The elevators are on the other side. It’s really tucked away. But, still… probably not appropriate.” I started to dig my fingers gently into the muscles around her shoulders and neck. She was super tight and moaned immediately at my touch.

  “So,” I went on, “I decided that, at the very least, you should have a place where you could relax, maybe even meditate. Find your center-”

  “That’s all very nice,” Camille said, lifting her head again, “but you know I like it better when you find my center for me.”

  She’d said it with a straight face so it took a second for it to register. Then she began to smile. “Does this massage come with a happy ending?”

  I snorted with laughter. “If the lady wishes.”

  Camille rolled over. She was smiling from ear to ear. “I love that you think of these things; that you even checked what’s on either side of this room. You’re always thinking, aren’t you?”

  “About you, yes, I’m pretty much obsessed.”

  “You miss me so much that you built a space where I could walk downstairs and be alone with you.”

  “Yes, I miss you that much,” I said.

  “You’re my dream girl, do you know that?” she whispered. “I always wanted a woman that wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about me. I never actually thought I would get one, but here you are.”

  “Here I am,” I said.

  “Except… you’re still dressed.”

  I looked down at my clothes. “This is true.”

  “This is a serious problem,” she said.

  “I don’t think this table will hold the two of us.”

  “We have a sofa, a rug, a sheet, and a beanbag chair; let’s see what we can come up with,” Camile said, smiling.

  I went out to the lounge and hauled one of the beanbags into the massage room. Camille laid the sheet over it. “Voila.” She smiled at me and reached for the button on my pants. “Remove, now. I’m done with being the only naked woman in the Boss Cave.”

  “Do you have time for sex right now?” I asked.

  She gave me a look and then proceeded to undo my zipper with a little more haste.

  “I assume that means no, but we’re going to do it anyway.” I helped her strip me to save some time.

  “Hot,” she said when I was bare.

  If someone had asked me a few weeks before whether I would ever be naked inside the Vermillion tower, I probably would have said no. Life was so unpredictable.

  Camille trailed her fingers down my abdomen. “Look at these abs. Maybe we should get some toys in here,” she whispered.

  And a safe to put them in just in case anyone else ever wanders in, I thought. “That can be arranged.”

  She pushed me until I fell back into the beanbag chair. I landed on it with a whoosh of vinyl, the white bed sheet fluttered up around me. I wiggled myself deeper into the beans, evening them out until I was reclined. “Come here, baby,” I said, laughing and holding out my arms. Camille pretended to take a flying leap onto me but thankfully caught herself before landing too hard. We laid there with our naked bodies splatted together awkwardly, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of our impromptu date.

  Camille looked down at me, her eyes were sparkling and she was smiling. Her eyes dipped lower, to my lips. She licked her own first and then bent her beautiful head down and kissed me. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re so welcome, my love.”

  She kissed me again. Her mouth was sweet and warm. Her kiss, despite the ticking clock, was languid and unhurried. She rolled her body against me and suddenly things didn’t feel quite so silly anymore.

  Her kiss deepened while her hand drifted lazily up and down my thigh. There was so much tenderness in that small movement; the gentle brushes of her fingertips against my rushing skin. She looked down into my eyes and smiled inside the breaths we took together—inhale for exhale, exhale for inhale—combining the ethers that kept us alive.

  We moved slowly, her thigh between my legs and mine between hers, hands and fingers roaming through and beyond, quietly teasing. The push and pull were gentle; slow and winding, like switchbacks up a mountain pass. There was no tower and no offices. There was no server room on the other side of the wall. There were no floors above us and none below. Those things were as imagined as the construct that had been keeping us apart.

  For a short time that felt, in the end, like just long enough, we came together without worrying about what came next. Higher and higher we climbed until we reached the top together, side by side, breath for breath. And then, laughing, we held each other’s hands and jumped.

  We lay coiled together on the beanbag for another few unhurried moments. Camille kissed my jaw and my chin gently. I lay with my eyes closed, simply reveling in her warmth wrapped around me.

  “This was such a good idea,” she whispered.

  I let out a happy sigh. “Would you like to book another appointment?”

  “I’m busy all day tomorrow but how about the next day?”

  “Done,” I said. She propped herself up on one elbow and kissed me before lifting off of me. “And so brilliant that there’s a bathroom. No walk of shame.”

  “You could bring some spare clothes down here, too,” I said, watching her as she began to collect her things.

  “That’s a good idea,” she said as she walked out into the lounge toward the was
hroom.

  I stretched out on the beanbag for a few more seconds before swinging myself up. My pants had been tossed to one side of the room. My t-shirt was hanging off of the massage table headrest. My underwear was… nowhere. “Uh, oh,” I said.

  “What?” Camille called.

  “Oh, just my undies. Can’t find ‘em.”

  “Check under the beanbag,” Camille called back.

  I pulled the beanbag up and sure enough, there they were, flat as a pressed flower. “Smart thinking.”

  A few minutes later, we were both dressed and the place was tidy. The white bed sheet was folded neatly and tucked into my bag for laundering. I’d already made a mental note of a few other provisions I wanted to add to the Boss Cave and planned to do a little online shopping later that night.

  Camille pulled a bottle of kombucha from the fridge, opened it and took a long drink before passing it to me. “I feel like I’ve just been to the spa,” she said.

  “You’re glowing like you have been.” I gave her a final kiss before opening the door and checking the hallway. “All clear.”

  She walked out ahead of me. We separated at the main corridor; Camille went for the stairs while I pressed the button for the elevator.

  “See you tonight,” she called before giving me a little wave.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Camille didn’t get home until after 11 pm that night, and when she arrived, she looked shattered. I could see it in her face the second she stepped off the elevator. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’ve had it. I can’t do it anymore,” she whispered. She was on the verge of tears. She walked into the condo and dropped her bags on the floor, then went to her chair by the window and practically fell into it. She hung her head in her hands and wept.

  “Oh, my love,” I whispered. I sat on the arm of the chair and held her.

  “It’s just one thing after another,” she moaned. “I’m trying to stay strong, I am. But fuck.” She began to sob again.

  My heart ached for her. I’d never seen her in that much agony about work before. So much had gone on in such a short period of time and so little of it had been good. I had wondered how much Camille could handle and there I was witnessing her at the end of her rope. The trouble was, there was no easy fix, no one that could be called to swoop in and save the day. It was all up to her. “It’s so not fair,” I said, holding her tighter.

  She didn’t eat anything. She barely managed a glass of water. On top of all the inter-personal problems she’d been having with the other executives, she was thoroughly and completely exhausted. When I laid her down in bed, she clung to me. I’d convinced her to take a sleeping pill to calm her nerves enough to let her sleep, and soon, she was.

  I spent most of the night awake and worrying for her. Every time she stirred, I woke. Her sleep was fitful, almost feverish. Whatever was happening inside her dreams seemed like a replay of her day at work. When the alarm went off at five, we both still look exhausted.

  Camille went out to her chair in the living room and sat with her cup of coffee. I’d rarely seen her skip a workout; that was my first clue that that day wasn’t going to be like other days. She stared out the window without saying anything for the longest time. Finally, she turned and reached out her hand. I went and sat at her feet. “Can I do anything?” I asked, looking up at her.

  “No, baby. You’ve been amazing. This is up to me.” She stroked her hand down my face and smiled sadly.

  “Did something happen yesterday after I left?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wanted to come home and do something nice for you for once.” Tears welled in her eyes again.

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said softly. I sat up on my knees and wrapped my arms around her.

  “But I do,” she said.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked. “Maybe talking it over will help.”

  “I don’t want to burden you with it,” she moaned.

  I stroked my thumb over her hand. “Baby, talk. I’m already worried sick about you.”

  Camille sat back in her chair and stared out the window again. “Before my father got sick, I was on the same management level as at least twenty other executives, including my brother. Now that I’m acting unofficially in my father’s role, some of them have been willing to follow me, and some of them haven’t. The ones that haven’t, manage big teams. So the fact that they don’t agree with me, means there’s been no cohesion. I went in to an important meeting yesterday assuming that things had been prepped and positioned a certain way and then found out that everything had changed. I looked like a complete fool. The clients got confused and demanded to see my father. When I told them he was still recovering from his injury, they demanded to see Bryce. I’d been set up.”

  “I can’t believe they would do that.”

  “They did something like it before; they went behind my back and met with a partner company on their own, blatantly disregarding what I’d asked. Two days ago, I found out that they’d met with Bryce’s old team and didn’t tell me. When I confronted them about it, they lied to my face. When I confronted them about lying, they told me they weren’t under any obligation to discuss matters that didn’t have to do with my own team and then walked out of my office like that was completely okay. They simply refuse to recognize that I have any authority. They just refuse.”

  “Can you talk to John about it? A little?”

  Camille looked up at me and shook her head. “This pressure doesn’t belong on him right now. He’s just starting to improve. This could set him back.”

  “Okay but, say he did know, what do you think he would do?”

  “They wouldn’t dare do something like this with him. He would fire all of them,” Camille replied.

  “Maybe that’s the only way to go. If they don’t respect you now, they never will. You’re their leader. They don’t have to like you, but they do have to listen to you.”

  “It’s more complicated than that. These people have been working there for years, a lot longer than I have. They have history, they have connections. Vermillion is under the microscope right now after that ridiculous Fox news piece and the tape. If I start firing people, especially these people, there’ll be more backlash.”

  “But this isn’t a democracy; there’s a chain of command. John isn’t coming back any time soon; that means you’re it. They either get used to it or go somewhere else.”

  “I know what has to be done. It’s just that… this company has been around for three generations. I can’t be the one to sink it… now. There’s a huge divide between teams right now and both sides believe they are acting within their rights. The problem is they think my father’s absence is temporary. Maybe if they knew that this is just the way things are going to be for the next, who knows how long, they might just shut up and deal with it. Or leave peacefully.” Camille sighed.

  “Hey… you’re doing your best,” I said softly.

  She looked into my eyes. “My best isn’t good enough.”

  “Baby, nobody else could do what you’ve been doing. Imagine if your brother was in your shoes.”

  “No, thank you,” Camille muttered. She took a deep breath. “We can’t afford to go on like this. I have to make the call.” She stood up and reached for her phone. A few seconds later, she spoke. “Hi, Jamie, please cancel my meetings this morning when you get in. I’ll be working remotely for a few hours. You can reach me on my mobile.” She hung up and placed her phone back on the counter.

  “Bravo. The home office could use a little more air time,” I said with a grin.

  “I need a quiet place to think. There’s too much chaos upstairs right now. I have so much to prepare. I’m going to spend a few hours in my cave.”

  As much as I hated the reasons why Camille had to go down there, I was happy, at least, that it was waiting for her. “I’ll make breakfast and then get out of your way,” I said and kissed her hand.

  Camille rested her
head on my shoulder. “Thank you, baby.”

  ***

  “I have to figure out a way to ask John something kinda… sensitive,” I said to Sabrina when we were driving to John’s place.

  She turned to me. “What is it?”

  “Camille has basically banned him from anything resembling work right now. But I think he’s under the impression that things are going okay at the office.”

  Sabrina groaned. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him…”

  “We know he’s not going back to work for awhile but we can’t keep blaming his ankle. I was thinking of using the book angle.”

  Sabrina gave me a puzzled look.

  “He told me a couple of weeks ago that he wants to write a book. I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Me too. I would read that,” she said.

  “I was thinking that if he announced he was taking a long leave of absence to write and then handed the reins to Camille officially, maybe there wouldn’t be as much resistance from the ranks. He could write his book in peace.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Sabrina said.

  “I thought so too. I’d like to make a stop.”

  “Where at?”

  “I want to pick up a notebook for John so he can start getting his book ideas down. It’ll give me a way to segue into the conversation.”

  We stopped at a stationary store along the way. I picked out a cardboard-backed book and a handful of thin-tipped colored markers for him to mind map with. I had no idea how John liked to work but keeping ideas organized with color was one method that I used. He was sitting out on the lower patio when I arrived.

  “Hey, John,” I called once I was sure he was awake.

  He held up his hand and gave it a wave. “Hey, Claire.”

  “I got you something.” I handed him the bag.

  He smiled and pulled out the notebook. “Is this for what I think it’s for?”

  “I was hoping it would inspire you.” I took a seat in the lawn chair next to his. “I don’t know about you but I like color-coding stuff; that’s why the markers.”

  “If nothing else, I can doodle,” he said happily. “Thanks.”