by Vivian Wood
She closed the door behind herself, and eyed the towering file cabinets that dominated the room. Tucking a strand of fiery hair behind her ear, she looked at the closest one.
Financial Disclosures, April 2013. The next was Financial Disclosures, March 2013.
She frowned and moved to the right.
The cabinet to her right was labeled: Financial Disclosures — Terrence Culley. Now she was getting somewhere.
Financial Disclosures — Spencer Calloway ended up being tucked in the farthest corner, way in the back, but she found it well enough. She pulled open the main drawer and saw paperwork organized by date.
She pulled the most recent one, dated last week. To her surprise, the sheaf of paper was uncreased, perfectly smooth. Her brow furrowed. She put that back and looked at the weeks before.
All uncreased. She realized that perhaps this room was filled with copies of documents, which would therefore look untouched. She flipped to the end of the document and saw that it had been signed by Spencer Calloway. She ran her fingertips over the signature, feeling the way the pen had bit into the paper.
She closed the drawer and moved to the next cabinet over. Financial Disclosures — Smith Calloway, it said. She opened the most obvious drawer, and pulled the most recent sheaf of papers.
Smith’s copy of the financial paperwork was the opposite of his father’s. The papers were dogeared and notes filled the margins, spilling over into the printed words. When she pulled the prior week’s report, she found it in the same condition, plus marked with coffee cup rings.
She put the files back and checked another employee’s files, an accountant named Dinah Troy. She found the same thing in Dinah’s paperwork, lots of hand-scrawled notes in the margins.
She put Dinah’s files away, her forehead creasing. Spencer’s reports not seeming read was awfully little evidence of wrongdoing, but it was the first hint of impropriety she’d witnessed.
Did that mean she should take it and run with it? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she’d talk to Erika about it.
Deciding that was enough snooping for now, she let herself out of the room, hurrying down the hall. She put her head down and turned a corner, barreling right into Spencer Calloway.
“Oh!” she gasped as she righted herself. “Sorry, sorry.”
She turned beet red as she came face to face with the man she had reason to believe was hiding money.
“Miss Turner,” he said, brushing off his immaculate dark suit. “What are you doing down here?”
She could ask him the same question. “Err… looking for a file.”
“Executive assistants have no reason to be down here,” Spencer said. “Anything you need can be brought up to you. You just email Stacey, who’s in charge down here. Unless you wanted a file but you didn’t want to send an email asking for it, that is.”
Her brows shot up. He wasn’t wrong, but he was paranoid.
“I—”
Smith came around the corner just then, saving her from having to justify herself.
“Hey,” Smith said to Cameron and his father. “Is this the hip new spot for workplace meetings?”
“I found your girl down here. She says she was trying to find a file,” Spencer said, looking disdainfully at Cameron.
An awkward moment passed before Smith jumped in.
“Oh, yeah. She’s doing some digging for me,” Smith said. “Figuring out who’s who in the corporate ladder. I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know any of the middle managers’ names.”
Spencer’s brows rose, but he said nothing more about it.
“I’m on my way to copy some documents,” Spencer said. “I’ll see you later.”
His reason for being on this floor was just as bad as anything Cam would have come up with, but she stayed silent. Smith waited until they’d moved well out of his father’s hearing before he said anything to Cameron.
“Well?” he demanded. “I’m on this floor for a meeting. What’s your excuse?”
“I’m just trying to learn more about the business,” she said as they continued down the hall. “Not that much different than what you told your father.”
They passed a small office on the way to the elevators. Cam only got a brief look, but the woman in the office had enormous silicone breasts and perfect, skinny thighs. The outfit she wore looked like something a porn star would wear in an office sex scene.
“Who was that?” she asked, pointing back toward the office. “Since I’m trying to learn everyone’s names, you know.”
“That’s Stacey,” Smith said. “She’s one of my father’s personal favorites.”
The elevator door opened, and they got in.
“Ah. Got it,” she said.
Smith looked at his watch. “I’ve got another meeting on the fourth floor. Do you mind riding the elevator down there first, then taking it up to the twenty-first?”
She smiled, pressing the button for the fourth floor. “No problem.”
He straightened his tie, seemingly lost in thought. His dark hair and dark suit looked impressive on his large frame, perfectly in sync. He was sexy as hell like this, yet Cam could easily see the man underneath, the one dressed in punk rock gear.
Somehow, he was both. He struggled with it, if you looked closely, but still managed to pull it off.
They reached the fourth floor, the elevator dinging as the doors opened. Smith gave her a distracted nod and left. The doors closed on him.
She reached out and pressed the button, sighing. She pulled out her phone and started typing. Getting off the elevators, she walked back to her desk and wrote a long text message to Erika, updating her on the questionable evidence she’d found.
Cam made it back to her desk and sat down, reading her text again. She bit her lip, her thumb hovering over the send button.
She thought of Smith in the elevator, how handsome he’d been. If she really found something here, something newsworthy, would she still be able to see Smith?
She thought of the look on his face if he found out she’d been lying all along. It was heartbreaking.
On the other hand, she’d already been lying to him for a month. If she backed out now, she wouldn’t get the scoop. Plus she had no idea if she and Smith were even a thing. More than likely, the tension between them would fizzle and she’d be left with nothing.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the send button. Career came before relationships, especially when she didn’t know if the relationship was real.
Exhaling, she turned to look out the window, wishing she could see the future the way she could see the skyline.
12
“You still haven’t told me where we're going,” Cam said, eyeing Smith as he drove north. They were driving through mountainous terrain now, the road a definite incline.
“No, I haven’t,” he said, looking in the Range Rover’s rearview mirror.
“Are you going to?”
“No.” His lips curved upward.
She saw him glance at her clothing, and she ran her hands nervously over her short red wrap dress. “What?”
“Nothing. Did you bring the clothes I told you to bring?”
“Yep,” she said.
She frowned and pulled her backpack out of the back seat. She pulled out a pair of running shoes, along with a black t-shirt, black leggings, a pink hoodie, and socks. He’d refused to specify what they were doing, other than the fact that it would be athletic and the gear would be provided.
Of course, she showed up today and he was wearing his usual black hoodie and black jeans. He was, however, wearing a pair of black sneakers and black socks instead of his usual Doc Martens.
“You might want to change before we get there. Everyone else will already be dressed and ready to go.”
“Everyone else?” she asked.
He smirked, flashing that killer dimple, but kept his eyes on the road.
“So I’m supposed to change in the car?” she asked.
“Unless you can think
of somewhere else that’s between here and our destination, which is about ten miles away.”
She sighed and laid the passenger seat back, changing clothes as quickly as possible. She pulled the leggings on first, then pulled the t-shirt on, taking her dress off under the shirt.
“I love how women do that,” he said, amused.
“What?”
“Change without showing any skin. It’s not something men are taught, I suppose.”
“We’ve had to learn to adapt.”
He just smiled and kept driving. She shoved everything in her backpack and put it in the back seat.
They came around a curve and turned off the two-lane road at a spot marked with red balloons. They drove down a gravel road until it simply ended at a spot with a dozen other fancy cars there. Mostly Range Rovers, but a few yellow Maseratis and red Porsches were scattered in the mix.
Cameron spotted James closing the back of his Range Rover as they parked. She waved as they pulled in, and James trotted over.
“Oi! You finally arrived, eh?” he said as Cameron and Smith climbed from the SUV.
“Good to see you again, James,” she said, grinning at him.
James was dressed in an all-black warm-up suit and tennis shoes, looking like he was about to run a race. Well, that or he was a mobster.
She hadn’t even considered that they might be running a race. She bit her lip, hoping Smith hadn’t invited her to a competitive activity.
“Hey,” Smith said, bumping fists with James. “Is everything ready?”
“Just waiting for you to start.”
“Alright. Let’s go introduce Cameron to today’s challenge,” he said, giving Cameron a wink.
“I really need to start asking more questions,” she muttered as James led them to the group.
They came to a broad clearing, with a ton of people hanging out. Thomas and Charlie were there, greeting her with enthusiastic hugs.
“I can’t believe Smith got you to do this,” Charlie said.
“Actually, he refused to say what exactly this is,” Cam said.
“Ah. Smart man, that one is.”
“I can’t believe Mr. Bachelor invited a girl along,” Thomas said, shaking his head.
Cam scanned the crowd. “There are a couple of girls here.”
“Yes, but they were foolish enough to marry into this stupidity,” Smith said, coming up behind them.
Everyone started moving toward a poorly-marked trail leading from the clearing.
“You’re killing me!” she protested. “Tell me what we’re doing.”
“Well… we’re going for a hike,” Smith said. “Here, put this on.”
He held a black backpack, motioning to her to put it on. It was surprisingly heavy. He helped her in it, cinching the straps once she put it on. She realized everyone else was wearing the same backpack. Not similar, the same.
What the hell was up with that?
“Good?” Smith asked. He was wearing the same backpack, too.
“I guess.”
“Let’s go!” James said, hurrying to the trail.
Cam moved quickly, not wanting to slow the whole hike down. The ground beneath her feet was rocky, so if she wasn’t careful, she could easily twist an ankle. Smith was right behind her, the last member of the hiking party, but his presence was comforting.
Charlie and Thomas had already disappeared up the trail before them, so Cam, Smith, and James moved quickly to catch up. At first, Cam enjoyed the laughter of those people in front of her, but then the trail incline steepened and everyone concentrated on their footing.
They hiked for nearly an hour. Cam started sweating ten minutes in; thirty minutes into the hike she was angry that Smith knew people who hiked in their free time, and worse, liked it. The last twenty minutes were a really hard climb, though she could see the tree line fall away around them.
They finally came to the ridgeline of the mountain, where it was nice and flat for several thousand yards before dropping off into nothingness. Everyone spread out to rest, taking their packs off and passing around bottles of water.
Cam put her hands on her knees and spent a full minute trying to catch her breath. Smith patted her on the back, moving around her and going over to talk to Charlie.
She realized that she hadn’t really looked down the other side. There was literally no point to being here if she didn’t at least admire the scenery. She went over to the side and found it to be a sheer drop, falling away to a bright blue lake below.
She gasped and took several steps back. No one else really seemed too concerned with the fact that a strong breeze could carry them over the edge.
She hurried over to Smith, who passed her an unopened bottle of water.
“Thanks,” she said, frowning as she drank from it.
“Thanks for coming with me. Well, with us, I suppose.”
He smiled at her, several strands of his dark hair falling in his eyes. He looked like he was about say more, but one of the women in the group distracted him instead. Cam’s eyes narrowed as the svelte brunette walked over to Smith.
“I’m so nervous!” she giggled, smiling up at Smith. “Have you done this before?”
“Done what?” Cam asked, more to Smith than the woman, who, she noted, was wearing a pair of yoga pants tight enough to have been painted on.
“BASE jumping,” Smith replied.
“WHAT?!” Cam exclaimed.
The brunette giggled again. “You didn’t know this was a jumping group?” Cam and Smith both glared at her.
“Could you give us a moment?” Smith asked. Yoga Pants sidled off.
“BASE jumping was one of the bonding activities we did in the SAS,” he continued, “and it’s an incredible thrill, just about the best you can get outside of...” he trailed off.
Cam felt the familiar electric jolt as Smith traced a delicate circle on her palm.
“A bonding activity?” she asked.
James had wandered over in pursuit of Yoga Pants.
“Oh, I love a good bonding activity, don’t you, mate? Very professional!” he called out to Smith and Cam with a wink.
“Go. Away. James,” Smith growled.
Cam laughed, then remembered the purpose of her backpack.
“Base jumping? Hell no. I am not doing that! Hiking is one thing, but jumping off a cliff with nothing but this?” She gestured at her backpack. “No way!”
One of the group leaders had begun calling out instructions. Smith grabbed her hand.
“Trust me, please?”
Cam’s reluctance melted as she looked into his blue eyes. Besides, she thought, maybe after she could probe a little more about the company’s finances.
“Okay,” she replied.
Smith grinned boyishly. An instructor walked over and began checking their equipment.
“Spot on,” the instructor nodded approvingly at Smith. “You’ve done this before, eh?”
“Yeah, loads,” he replied, not looking away from Cam, “but this time is different.”
13
A few minutes later, Cam was rethinking her trust in Smith. She tried to open her mouth to scream this at him, but realized it was already open and filled with a nonstop flow of oxygen; the rush of air as she fell through the sky was filling her lungs without any effort on her part.
The thing was, she didn’t regret it. The rush was incredible.
So was the view. They had jumped into free fall off of the cliff holding hands, and were now rushing toward a cerulean lake in the valley. It was beautiful.
Smith had somehow maneuvered in the air so that Cam was underneath him as they fell. He wrapped his legs around her and motioned for her to grab on. She held on for dear life as he deployed his parachute, her stomach dropping as their free fall suddenly stopped.
They splashed gently into the lake. Smith detached the parachute and grinned at Cam.
“Well, how was your first time?” he asked.
“God, that was incredibl
e! You were right, it was a huge rush!”
“No regrets?”
“None,” she said, and impulsively kissed him.
What am I doing? Sex is one thing, but I literally just jumped off a cliff for this man, and now I’m kissing him? Is this for the story, or for me?
Smith groaned and deepened the kiss, pulling away reluctantly as other BASE jumpers began to land in the lake.
Cam had felt him getting hard. Sometimes it was nice to have the upper hand.
“I guess that’s the end of your bonding activity,” she said sweetly to Smith, and with that, she began to swim toward the lake shore.
14
Smith stared through the windshield to the road ahead, which had dwindled over the two-hour car ride from an interstate with four lanes to a two-lane highway, to the bumpy country road that he was currently driving on. The family estate was severely isolated compared to his penthouse in the city, tucked away near a sleepy little town that they’d just passed through five minutes ago.
The journey up here wasn’t Smith’s favorite, but the board was meeting at the estate this time. At least if he had to be here, he wouldn’t be alone.
He cast a glance at Cameron, in the passenger seat. She was absorbed in looking out the window.
“We’re almost there,” he said.
She turned to him with a smile. “I’m not going to be the only assistant coming along, right?”
Truthfully, he had no idea. He cleared his throat.
“Definitely not.”
“Well, I think having a weekend away from the city will be good for both of us,” she said, her attention soon drawn back to the passing scenery.
Both of us.
Smith pondered that as he made their final turn onto the well-maintained gravel drive that led up to his family’s estate, passing beneath a stone archway that proudly bore the Calloway name in shiny black metal letters.
Does that mean both of us together, or both of us individually? he thought, frustrated and confused and entirely unsure of what to do about it.
Five days had come and gone since the night they’d had drinks at Haro. And over the course of those five days, he and Cameron had gone on pretending as if nothing had happened between, just as they had before.
