Page 14 of In Good Company

Charlotte quickly jumps up and claps her hands. “Up!”

I stay sitting. “Why?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand andpulling me off the bench herself. “It’s time for you to go find Cal and tell him you accept!”

“How do you know he’s still here?”

“Because where else would he be?” she counters, making it seem like my question was dumb in the first place. She might have a point. Most members spend their entire day here in the summer. They have nothing better to do with their time. Their work is play, and their play is work. And it’s all done here at Pembroke.

Before I can respond, the door to the locker room flies open. Charlotte and I both look in that direction, finding a woman in a black pantsuit leaning against the door.

“Don’t mind me,” the woman says, her palms flat against the wood door as she takes a couple of deep breaths.

I take a step forward in concern. “Are you okay?”

She gives me a tight smile. “I’m fine. Just babysitting and at the end of my rope.”

Charlotte and I share a look. Charlotte’s the one to speak up. “I love kids, but they can be a handful sometimes.”

The woman laughs, pushing pieces of neatly curled, dark hair from her face. “Oh, I wish my problem was a child. Unfortunately, I’m tasked with babysitting a grown man who’s currently making me contemplate committing murder.”

“Men will do that,” Charlotte pipes up.

This time, when the woman smiles, it actually reaches her eyes. “Yes, they will. Especially this one.”

“Ditch his ass,” Charlotte offers.

I shake my head at her, not bothering to hide my smile at her words. You never know what’s going to come out of her mouth. It’s one of my favorite things about her. “You can’t say that to people you don’t know,” I scold. This woman clearly isn’t a Pembroke employee, but something about her alreadymentioning wanting to commit murder tells me she won’t rat on Charlotte for cursing in front of a member.

“It’s fine,” the woman gets out with a sigh. “I’m Camille. Andtrust me, I wish I could ditch him. I dream about it every night, but tragically, my job depends on babysitting a self-absorbed asshole who wants to make my life miserable any chance he gets.”

“That sounds awful,” I remark, feeling bad for her. She looks about my age, maybe a little older. Her stress is evident in the rigid set of her shoulders and the slight wrinkle on her forehead.

“Is he hot, at least?” Charlotte asks, letting out a yelp when I smack her shoulder with the back of my hand.

Camille tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear as she lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Unfortunately, yes. And he knows it.”

Charlotte lets out a low whistle. “The worst combination.”

“You’re telling me,” Camille responds, pushing herself off the door with a groan. “I’ve got to get going. I snuck away for a moment while my client talked business with Beckham Sinclair, but I’ve got to get back to the table before he runs away and I get fired.”

“Good luck. If all else fails, give him a nice kick in the balls to keep him in line!” Charlotte says sweetly, twisting a blonde strand of her hair around her finger.

“Nice meeting you, Camille,” I say, trying to keep a straight face after Charlotte’s comment.

Camille opens the door before tossing one last smile over her shoulder. “I’ll be dreaming about giving him a good kick in the balls.”

“Are you in there gossiping about my balls?” a deep voice croons from the other side of the door.

Both Charlotte and I lean forward to sneak a peek.Unfortunately for us, the door slams shut before we can see the culprit behind Camille’s annoyance.

It’s quiet for a moment before Charlotte turns back to me, her eyes roaming over my face and hair. “Back to business. Let’s get you cleaned up a little from your shift, and then you’re going to go find Callahan and tell him you accept the job.”

I nod, anxious butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Is that my final decision? Am I going to accept? Charlotte fusses with smoothing out my hair as I try to convince myself it still isn’t a good idea to accept it.

But I can’t convince myself it’s the wrong decision. I think down the road, I’d be upset with myself if I turned down this opportunity.

“Purse your lips,” Charlotte demands, holding up a tube of lip gloss.

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