Page 25 of Bad for Business
FIFTEEN
RYKER
“So, how did it go?”Camille asks as the brunch ends and people begin to file out of the dining room.
“Did you have a fun morning with Jude?” I ask, completely ignoring her question.
I spent about three hours talking to different members of the Davenport Media board, and I can’t tell you what half the conversations were about because I was too focused on shooting looks in my publicist’s direction. For some reason, I hated that she spent the entire morning with Jude. I tried to push the irritation from my mind and focus on having genuine conversations with the men I was trying to impress, but it was easier said than done.
At one point, I thought about ditching Harrison O’Neill and Glen Gentry when I caught the sound of Camille laughing with Jude and Preston’s girlfriend, Emma. She hasn’t laughed like that for me at all since we got here, and for some reason, red-hot jealousy burned through me at the realization.
Camille’s hand pressing against my arm breaks me from my thoughts. “Ryker?” Her tone is cautious as her big turquoise eyes stare up at me. “How did it go?”
I shrug out of her grip. I don’t want her touching me. Quite frankly, right now, I don’t want her anywhere near me. I’m annoyed that the entire time I was supposed to be focusing on the very people who are in charge of my future, I was focused on her instead. I was jealous of her talking to Jude Kensington, and it’s a pill I’m not quite ready to swallow. It doesn’t make sense. Camille Vaughn annoys the shit out of me. I’m trying to actively find a way to get rid of her. Yet, the moment she finally gave me space and opted to spend time with someone else, I hated every second of it.
“Looked like you had more fun than I did,” I throw out. I was going to go home and relax, but now I’m wondering if it’d be better for me to hit up the gentlemen’s lounge of the club. At least there, I won’t have to watch Camille’s icy demeanor thaw for my friend. There, I can avoid her because it’s the one place at this club where she can’t follow.
“Did I do something?” Camille asks. There’s a slight change in her tone. When she first found me, there was actually a hint of softness in her line of questioning. Now, her questions are getting more and more defensive, and I know it’s because I’m being a bit of an asshole. I can’t help it. Something about her brings out this side of me.
I can’t fight looking at her any longer. I rip my eyes from the group of people in front of us and instead focus on her. “Nope. I think I’m going to go hit up the lounge. I could use a cigar.” And a drink. Something stronger than a damn mimosa.
“Okay,” she says slowly, her head tilting in confusion. She bites her lip for a moment. I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she tries to figure out my sour mood. “Does that mean things went poorly? From what I could tell, things seemed to go well.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Please. You weren’t paying attention at all. You were too busy making googly eyes at Jude.”
Camille’s mouth falls open as her eyes widen. “Is that why you’re being a total dick right now? Because I spent time withJude?” She practically spits his name, disbelief written all over her face.
All I can do is grunt as a response.
She lets out a shrill laugh. “Wow, Ryker. Seriously? You’ve tried to get rid of me every day for a week now, and the first time I actually stop hovering and trust you, you get upset?”
“I’m not upset,” I lie. Or maybe it isn’t a lie. I don’t fucking know.
“You’re something,” Camille responds, her words breaking me from my thoughts.
“I’m going to the gentlemen’s lounge,” I announce, needing space from her.
“No, you’re not.”
I laugh and lift an eyebrow. “For fuck’s sake, Cami, I just spent the morning doing what you wanted of me. Let me do something I want to do.”
Her body goes still. “It’s Camille,” she corrects me, her voice slow and controlled.
I scrub a hand over my mouth; I hadn’t even realized I called her by the name she gave me when we first met and not the one she actually goes by. “I knew that,” I respond, my words coming out harsher than I was expecting them to.
Before she can respond, I turn my back to her and take large steps toward the gentlemen’s lounge. I don’t like how I’m lashing out at her, but I also don’t know how not to. I’ve spent all my time with her for almost two weeks, and it’s getting to my head.
“Ryker!” she yells, the sound muffled by the thick wood door. “Ryker, get back here!” she continues, her voice getting angrier.
I shake my head, even if she can’t see it.
Space. I need space from her—desperately.
I don’t get jealous, and I sure as hell don’t get jealous when it comes to her. She set a boundary right away about our past. Her calling that night a mistake was enough for me to never want it to happen again. And yet, my dreams are still of her. I see her talk to Jude, and it makes me lose all sense of focus.
I was doing great at making idle conversation with my father’s board until I noticed Camille was smiling at Jude. If she hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been distracted. I want to prove her father—and anyone else who thinks I can’t get the board’s approval—wrong. But I want to do it without her.
The smell of cigar smoke hits me. I scan the dimly lit room, searching for anyone I might know. There’s a table with three of my board members, but I keep looking. I talked to them enough this morning. It might be too obvious what I’m trying to do if I seek them out now. I keep looking around, relief hitting me when I spot a group of my friends seated in the back.
