Page 103 of Conquering Oz

“What is your intention?”

Camille chuckled softly. “I’m out of practice with this. I might’ve lost my touch.”

Elodie eyed the woman, suspiciously. She had no idea what Camille was talking about. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she got sidetracked when Camille moved toward her. She’d lost a bit of her confidence from when she’d initially walked in. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Camille tucked her hands in her pockets and stared across the room.

“Did Oz send you?”

“No,” Camille blurted, and her cheeks pinkened. “Trey asked that I come by. I think he was worried.”

Trey? Elodie furrowed her brows and rounded the counter. “Why would Trey be concerned about me?”

“He’s an empath, though I’m sure he’d deny it.” Camille chuckled. “I think it stems from Oz’s concern.”

“I haven’t spoken to Oz in days.”

Camille raised her brows. “Exactly.”

What?

“Did Oz tell you about me after the night we met?” Camille asked.

“He said he’d known you a while. That you’d worked for him, but he didn’t go in to detail.”

Camille snorted, shaking her head. “Still protecting me after all these years.”

Protecting her? Elodie felt a bubble of jealousy race through her veins. Camille’s comment was making her wonder the extent of their relationship. But she wouldn’t ask.

“Your relationship with Oz is none of my business.”

“I think it is.”

Jesus Christ.Did Camille think being subjected to a background of her relationship with a man she loved was a good thing? Elodie was shutting this down right now for her own sanity.

“Camille, I think…”

“Cam.”

Elodie cleared her throat, growing increasingly annoyed by the second.

“Cam, I have no interest in your past relationship. And it is none of my business, especially since I don’t have a current relationship with him.”

Camille’s smile faltered, and she approached the counter. “I’ve been with Oz since I was twelve.”

What. The. Fuck?Elodie’s mouth fell open, and her stomach twisted.

“Excuse me?”

Camille must have read her face. She quickly held up her hand. “Not the way you’re thinking. I’ve beenworkingfor Oz since I was twelve. He took me in. In a sense, he kind of raised me.”

What?

“I was with my uncle at the time, and he set up a meeting to sell” —Camille cleared her throat— “product to Oz.”

Product?

Elodie furrowed her brows. “What was he selling?”

Camille flattened her lips and stared down at the floor. Her voice was almost too soft to hear. But Elodie heard it. “Me.”

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