Page 114 of Enthrall
“So, how did you leave Richard?”
“He was playing Tomb Raider,” I said. “While wearing that ridiculous scuba mask.”
Cameron’s mug hit the counter and coffee splashed.
Tara reappeared. “Can I come out of hiding now?”
I ignored her and turned to Cameron. “What’s wrong?”
He headed off across the room. “I’ll get dressed. I’m taking you back.” He stopped by the door. “Did you happen to see an oxygen tank?”
“No.” I swapped a wary glance with Tara. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Cameron disappeared.
Tara sat beside me.
I thought back to my housewarming party and couldn’t remember seeing anything unusual about the interaction between these two that night. Though to be honest I’d not been looking for it.
“I’ll speak to Bailey,” said Tara. “Please don’t say anything to her.”
I gave a reluctant nod.
“Your eye make-up is really heavy,” she said.
Having not had the chance to remove it, I probably looked like a panda. How embarrassing. Having cried all the way here, I’d made it worse. Cameron didn’t need his psychological skills to work out I was a mess.
“Did you go to the party last night?” said Tara.
“Yes.”
“Really? How was it?”
My face blanched with embarrassment.
“Apparently they serve great food,” she said. “Did you check out the spanking room?”
I frowned at her, wondering how she knew there was even such a thing.
“Did you see anything?” she said. “Anyone doing it?”
I took a sip of coffee.
Cameron reappeared wearing jeans and a white shirt. He grabbed his car keys and threw me a smile. “Let’s go visit our friend.” He waved at Tara. “See you later.”
“Later,” she called after him and threw me a wave goodbye.
I waved back and trotted behind Cameron. “He’s not likely to try something dangerous is he?” I couldn’t work out why I felt like it had been me that pushed him away. “Should I have stayed?”
“Don’t ever second guess yourself,” said Cameron, as he led me out on the street.
He opened his Porches’ passenger car door.
I climbed in, sinking into the leather seat, the irony not lost that we were leaving behind the Rubicon. Cameron drove fast, dodging pedestrians and other cars that were driving too slow for a Sunday morning. We sped along the Pacific Coast Highway and he made small talk, gesturing to points of interest and doing anything, it seemed, to not bring up why we were heading back to Richard’s so fast.
In less than twenty minutes we’d arrived.
Cameron turned off the engine and twisted in his seat to face me. “Let me talk to him.”
