Page 24 of Redeeming Rabbit

I wondered what we should do tonight.

The maître d’ must have halted while my thoughts were distracted because I had to stop short to keep from plowing into him. As I recovered, he pulled out my chair as if nothing had happened. Across the table sat a traditionally handsome dark-haired man with thick eyebrows and a strong, clean-shaven jawline. He wore his suit like it was an extension of his skin. Standing, he shook my hand, and we introduced ourselves. I explained that Dr. Moore had an emergency and wouldn’t be joining us. He gave no indication of disappointment.

The maître d’ flagged down a server who brought me a water glass and cleared away the extra silverware as I settled into my seat. The weight of Cameron Chamberlain’s scrutiny as I sipped my water made me uncomfortable. I’d worn my navy skirt suit today. After Rabbit’s reaction to the photo of the outfit, how could I not? How he’d sworn and shaken his head, taking a lap around my living room to get himself under control, had made me feel powerful. The inappropriate way Cameron’s gaze kept tracing the tiny glimpse of cleavage revealed by my V neckline somehow robbed me of my power. It made me feel cheapened.

Desperate to reclaim my personal sovereignty, I started a dialogue. “Please, tell me about yourself. What sparked your interest in our research, Mr. Chamberlain?”

“Cam, please. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elenore.”

I would much prefer to keep the discussion professional, but he was the one with the checkbook, and we needed investors. “You as well, Cam. Thank you for the invitation, and I look forward to answering any questions you have about the clinical trials.”

Cameron’s attention was on the approaching waiter. “I ordered a bottle of Chianti. Castello di Ama’s Vigneto Bellavista is to die for.” I opened my mouth to object, but he talked over me. “You simply must try it.”

After Cameron approved the sample, the waiter poured each of us a glass and asked if we were ready to order. I hadn’t even opened my menu yet, but it turned out I didn’t need to. Cameron ordered for me, claiming to know the restaurant’s best dishes. Some people doubtlessly found such behavior off-putting, but since I was used to having my meals selected for me, I didn’t mind. Besides, if I couldn’t eat what he’d ordered, I had a stash of prepared meals in the breakroom fridge.

When the waiter left, Cameron launched into questions about the tests we’d run and our estimated production time. Relieved to be back in familiar territory, I answered as directly as possible while trying not to get too technical. He was surprisingly well-informed and attentive. The food was excellent, and our lunch went far better than expected, especially considering how it began. More than two hours passed in a flash, and I was almost disappointed when it was time to leave.

“Did you drive?” he asked as we stood and gathered our things.

“No.” I’d ridden with Lysha.

“I’ll give you a lift then.”

I put my coat on, aware of the weight of the Taser in my pocket. “Thank you, but I don’t want to be a bother. I can take an Uber.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” When I hesitated, he added, “I insist.”

“You’re driving?” My face caught on fire as I recognized the invasive nature of my question. This was a potential sponsor. Not someone whose sobriety I should be questioning. Still, I’d had one glass of wine, and he’d consumed the rest of the bottle. “I mean, are you okay to drive? Should I call someone for you?” There. Concern was better than condemnation, right?

He chuckled. “I like the way you speak your mind, Elenore. It’s… refreshing. But there’s no need to worry. I have a driver.”

Of course, he did. “I should have realized. My apologies.”

“I forgive you, but only if you let me take you back to your office.”

It was a reasonable offer accompanied by a friendly, encouraging smile, so I relented. We climbed into a sleek black limousine with butter-soft leather seats, a mini-fridge, and more amenities than my college dorm room.

“Impressive,” I said, settling into my seat. I was doubtlessly supposed to play this cool, but I’d never ridden in a limo before, and I wasn’t an emotionless robot.

Ignoring my social faux pas, he sat beside me.

As in, right next to me.

The vehicle had more seats than our company conference room, yet he sat with his shoulder pressed against mine. I fought the urge to slide away, putting an appropriate distance between us since I worried how that might be construed. We’d had a pleasant lunch. Maybe he was this cozy with everyone?

And then, as the limo pulled away from the curb, Cameron put his hand on my knee.

Shocked, I stared at the offending appendage, willing it to move. When nothing happened, I cleared my throat.

He stared at his phone, ignoring me altogether.

My stomach dropped. The fancy meal I’d just eaten churned in my gut as the meager schmoozing skills I’d developed over lunch abandoned me. Entirely unprepared for this situation, I had no idea how to react.

My inner badass wanted to call him out on his utterly inappropriate behavior, but she was buried under a thick layer of behavioral uncertainty that had me wondering if this was somehow my fault. Had I unintentionally said or done something to indicate that I was sexually interested in Cameron? Because the man did not do it for me. He was handsome and intelligent, and before he’d grabbed my leg, I wouldn’t have been opposed to getting to know him better. Still, I felt none of the magnetic pull I’d experienced with Rabbit.

When it came down to it, this was business. I needed to let Cameron know his behavior was unacceptable and any attraction unreciprocated.

“Excuse me, Mr. Chamberlain, but—”

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