Page 67 of Lucky Star

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cameron

Was it wrong that when Sarah was in the shower, I went through her list of recent calls to see who had upset her back at the coffee shop? Yeah, probably. Was I going to apologize for it? Hell no.

She’d assured me the tears she’d failed to hide had nothing to do with the situation with the movie, which, I’ll admit, was a relief. When the shit hit the fan—and it was going to—I needed it needed to splatter on me. I was done with Sarah taking the brunt of things, and that included her taking the fall for me pulling the plug on the PR campaign. Since Aerin couldn’t openly disparage the star of the movie, she’d need someone to point a finger at, and I knew she’d have her sights set on Sarah.

I blew out a breath when I saw that Sarah had been telling the truth about the call, but then just as quickly my brows dropped into a deep frown. To say that my relationship with Jane Travers was would be an understatement.

Two years ago, Sarah’s parents had shown up unannounced for a two-week stay just before the holidays. While Sarah swore up and down she’d had no idea they were coming, her mom insisted she’d invited them. The problem was, Sarah had planned a big dinner and gift exchange those of us who were stuck in California on Christmas Day. She’d tried to cancel it, which I thought would have made her mom happy, but then Jane had laid a massive guilt trip on Sarah about the importance of not disappointing people. Ultimately, Sarah had gritted her teeth and decided to soldier on, despite the extra (unwanted) guests.

On the day of the party, I arrived before everyone else to help Sarah set up. Also, I’d wanted to give her my gift early, away from the prying eyes of all our friends. Okay, so I’d really arrived at eight o’clock in the morning because I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible because it was Christmas and I loved her. And since I couldn’t tell her that, I’d signed up for a full day of manual labor instead. Instead, Jane had shooed me away whenever I’d try to get Sarah alone, and I’d spent the morning talking sports with Sarah’s dad, Gerald, while her mom downed several mimosas and complained about the food.

Thankfully, once others began to arrive, Sarah was able to slip free of her mom’s shadow. Unfortunately, that left Jane unattended with a liquor cabinet full off top shelf booze at her disposal.

As I was putting Duke in his crate in Sarah’s bedroom so that he’d stop begging for scraps, I heard the door snick closed behind me. When I stood up from my crouch in front of the dog, my balls practically jumped back up into my body.

“Well, aren’t you the handsome devil,” Jane had mumbled as she’d stumbled into the room.

For every step she took, I took two steps back, eventually hitting the wall next to Duke’s crate. When I banged the back of my leg on the metal, he looked up at me with eyes that seemed to say, “Sorry man. You locked me in here; you’re on your own.”

It didn’t take long for me to understand what Jane had intended by wandering into her daughter’s room. She was drunk as a skunk and looking to score. That she’d decided to score with me curdled my stomach. I tried to reason with her—to get her to return to the party—but no matter what I said she only became more committed to her cause.

“Gerald and I haven’t had sex in five years,” she’d slurred as she’d gripped my shirt in her bony little fingers. Then she slapped her hand to my chest in what I thought was supposed to have been a seductive caress as she added, “I’m dying for a man to make me feel like a woman again … and that man is you!”

At that point, I’d plunked her down on the bed and high-tailed it out of there, hiding in the guest bathroom until I heard the unmistakable trill of her intoxicated voice telling one of Sarah’s co-workers about the wonders of Botox.

Naturally, I never mentioned a word of this to Sarah. I’d told myself it was because I didn’t want her to think less of her mother, but there’d been a small part of me that was worried if her mom claimed I’d come on to her, she might believe her version of events. Mother/daughter relationships were a funny thing, and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

That’s not to say the whole debacle remained a secret. Later that night, once all the other guests had left, Gerald took me aside to tell me he knew what had happened. Handing me a glass of expensive whiskey from a bottle he’d hidden away, he apologized for his wife’s behavior and promised it would never happen again. When I left Sarah’s later that night, he shook my hand while Jane shot me daggers from across the room.

I’d seen her a handful of times since then, and she always behaved antagonistically toward me, making snide comments about my career or trying to emasculate me in the eyes of her daughter. That was, of course, when she wasn’t busy tearing Sarah down. Jane’s scorn meant little to me, but she was toxic where her daughter was concerned.

“Hey, Sarah,” I called out loud enough for her to hear me over the sound of running water in the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“How much longer are you going to be?”

“Good Christ, man! Can’t a girl enjoy a long, hot shower?”

So a lot longer then. Good.

“I just wanted to see if I had time to go for a jog on the beach.” I hadn’t gone for my daily run yet, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll go with you.”

Tired of hollering, I went up the stairs and stepped into the steam-filled bathroom. “You want to go for a jog after just showering?”

Rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she tossed over her shoulder, “If you don’t want to get sweaty with me, I’ll understand.”

I reached out and pulled her to the edge of the tile. “I always want to get sweaty with you,” I said, tugging her forward for a quick kiss. Then I stepped out of her reach as I laughed at the shocked look on her face.

“That’s not fair,” she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. “Now I’m all hot and bothered.”

“A cold shower should do the trick,” I smirked as I backed out of the room and out of reach of any potential flying shampoo bottles.

“You’re a cruel man, Cameron Scott.”

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