Page 39 of Things We Tell Ourselves

Wade raises his hand, silencing her. “Let me finish.”

Camille’s mouth snaps shut, eyeing him suspiciously. Is this the point in the meeting where he offers me six hundred thousand and acts like it’s the best deal ever?

He takes another step, slowly making his way around the table. “Since it’s up to me to get this deal done, I have the authority to take you out to wherever I see fit for dinner.”

Camille’s eyes narrow further, facing him as he takes another step closer to her. “And what does that mean?”

He stops a few feet from her, giving the table a hard tap with his middle finger. He smiles broadly at her. “That means I get to take you to one of the best restaurants in all of California.”

His smile is contagious. She gives in, smiling back at him as she cheers internally. “That’s great,” she says, surprising herself with the control in her voice, “but…” She looks over the conference table again, wondering how talking money, licensing, and contract stipulations will work inside of a busy restaurant. “You don’t just wanna get the contract signing over with here, and then we can go to the restaurant to celebrate?”

“We’ll have plenty of time for that on the jet,” he says, walking past her to the door.

“The jet?” Camille repeats, turning to stare after him.

He opens the door, grinning at her. “That’s right.”

Camille stares out the door. When he said the best restaurant in California, she assumed he meant a location in L.A., but a jet? She steps out into the hall. “I’ve never been on a jet before.”

Wade walks out behind her. “You’ll have to tell me if it’s to your liking.”

Waiting outside of the main house, Buck is leaning against the back bumper of a black four-door sedan, arms crossed over his chest.

“What do you think?” Wade asks, walking Camille up to the car.

Buck moves from the rear of the car so Camille can look the car over. The contrasting white license plate holder against the black of the car is the first thing that gets her attention. Easton Sucks is written in large slender letters along the top of the license plate. Camille lets out a laugh.

“I know it’s not the Rolls or my brother’s Lamborghini, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Wade huffs. “She’s still a great car.”

“I’m not laughing at your….” Camille has to look at the logo on the back of the car, “A7 Audi. I’m laughing at that.” She points at the license plate holder. Wade grins.

“That’s a funny story, actually.” Buck opens the rear passenger door for them. Wade waves her toward the door. “After you.”

Camille slides into the backseat. It’s much smaller in the back compared to Rolls Royce that picked her up from the airport.

“This is nice,” she says, scooting over.

Wade climbs in behind her. The backseat might not be wide, but it’s comfortable, and more importantly, she gets to be the closest to Wade she’s been since nearly beating him over the head with that bat.

Wade sits back, looking around the backseat. “Thanks. I think so.”

“So what’s that funny story you promised me?”

He glances over at her, his grin growing.

“It all started when I got my first car in high school. My mom thought she was doing something responsible by getting me a Toyota Camry when I asked her and Dad for a BMW i8. I’m not like my brother, sure a BMW would’ve been nice, but I understand that beggars can’t be choosers—an ideology that my brother has tested since he was a kid. My poor mother did not understand at the time how popular Camry’s were until she bought me one. She may or may not have seen me driving around town in the middle of a school day. After that, she insisted that my car have something that would distinguish it from the others on the road. Her wish was my command.” Wade displays his one-sided grin. “And that’s when the first one was made. It was a sticker that I put on the back glass of the Camry.”

Camille dips her chin. “What happened when Easton and your mom saw it?”

“My parents were tickled. Mom laughed about it for days. Easton…he was less impressed, but it grew on him enough that he put his own sticker on his first car when he turned sixteen. Thus, the tradition began.”

As Wade leans over to open the briefcase, she inhales the fresh scent of his hair. He smells so good. He pulls out a stapled packet.

“This is the offer Bloom and Bloom is ready to make Integrity Heights.” He hands her the papers. “The cover sheet is the synopsis of the offer.”

Camille holds back a gasp, reading the top sheet over and over.

Five million dollars … they are offering her five million dollars for exclusive rights to market and sell Oxygen Recycler and the first review of any future Integrity Heights inventions.

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