Page 33 of Bad for Business
I nod, not knowing what to do in this situation. Maybe she has a thing against boats? Surely, if she did, she would’ve passed on this entire afternoon excursion.
Or maybe she wouldn’t. She’s stubborn. It wouldn’t shock me at all if she insisted on monitoring me today despite being someone who fears boats. Or at least doesn’t like them.
“Well,” I begin, watching Harrison O’Neill and his wife walk down the boat ramp to the yacht. “Should we go, then?”
“It’s just…when he mentioned he was taking his yacht out for the day, I imagined something bigger. Yacht means massive, right? Can his boat, I don’t know, blow over if it gets too windy?”
I can’t help but laugh. Her question catches me so off guard that for a few moments, I forget that I’ve been begging my father to get rid of her every time we talk on the phone. “Sorry this yacht isn’t big enough for you, princess.” I laugh again and shake my head. “What kind of yachts are you used to?”
The Vaughns have a lot of connections. They’ve worked with—and are friends with—a lot of high-profile people. It wouldn’t shock me if Camille’s been on bigger yachts, but that doesn’t mean that Mitchell’s is small by any means.
“I’m more of a staying-on-land kind of girl,” Camille mutters. The words are said so low I’m wondering if she actually intended for me to hear them.
I nervously look at the boat before looking back at her. A glance down at my watch tells me we’re two minutes away frombeing late. For a moment, the thought occurs to me that I could rub her obvious fear of boats in her face. She’s gotten on my nerves enough that it might even feel good to get in a little quip about it. But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to make a snide comment. Which is ironic because snide comments are her favorite ones to make.
“How about I spend the afternoon on the boat, and you go to the club? I think there are a few members who aren’t coming today. You can eavesdrop and fill me in on how I’m doing.”
Camille watches me closely for a moment. I swear I see the slightest drop in her shoulders, as if she’s letting out the smallest hint of a sigh of relief.
“I promise to be on my best behavior,” I add, my lips twitching with the start of a grin. It actually hasn’t been that hard to do. I’ll admit, things got a little out of hand back in Manhattan. I let myself get in a deep, dark place after my mother passed. I was trying to fill the void with drinking and parties, hoping that if I pretended to be happy, one day, I actually would be.
But being here in the Hamptons has made me feel different. I still miss her with a deep ache in my bones, but being in the home she loved so much has opened my eyes some. She wouldn’t be proud of the man I was turning into after her death, and that’s not something I can live with.
Camille takes a few quick breaths as her eyes dart over the yacht. I know it’s not the right time, but I want to ask more about this fear of boats. “I’m fine. I was just worried about the wind.”
I smile, looking around at the boats docked at Pembroke Hills’ marina. The wind today is almost nonexistent. There’s no way she’s actually worried about the wind. “I think the water will be calm. The boat just travels along the shoreline and into some coves. There’s not much to worry about.”
Camille lets out a high-pitched laugh before running a hand through the ends of her curled hair. “Not much to worry about.” She snorts. “Just being on a floating object in the middle of the water. It’s totally fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about.” The sarcasm in her voice is clear as day.
I nod in understanding. So sheisscared of boats…or maybe it’s a fear of open water. Either way, she’s let it slip that getting on this boat is not something she wants to do.
“So, how about you go to the club and see if you can find out any new information, and I’ll do this afternoon with Mitchell and the rest of the members in attendance? We can do one of those debriefings you love so much this evening when we’re both back.”
I don’t know why, but my entire body feels tight as I wait for Camille to answer me. We’ve found somewhat of a common ground recently as we continued our mission of impressing my board. I do what she asks and listen to her insight, but I also don’t miss any opportunity to be a pain in her ass.
“Are you going to answer, or are you just going to scowl at me?”
Camille’s frown deepens. “I don’t scowl. That causes wrinkles.”
I laugh, the sound coming from deep in my chest. “You’re joking, right? You’re always scowling.”
Her lips part. “No, I’m not,” she responds, her tone defensive. In fact, her entire posture is defensive, with her straight spine, lifted chin, and arms folded across her chest.
I shake my head. Judging by the look in her eyes, I don’t think she actually realizes that her face is set in an almost permanent frown. “Whatever you say.” I could argue with her on it, but we do plenty of that already. Right now, I’m more worried about getting her to agree to skip the boat. I don’t know how productive I’ll be at bonding with the board members if shedecides to attend. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I don’t know how much I can focus on conversations while knowing she’s afraid of being on the water.
We stare at each other for a moment. There’s still a defiant glint in her eyes as she stares back at me, but there’s something else too. “You go to Pembroke, and I’ll do this. I’ll meet you at the club after, and we can compare notes.”
Camille’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and for a moment, I really believe she’s going to agree to it. Relief floods my chest as I realize just how much I needed her to say yes. Despite how much she annoys me and how much I’d love to get rid of her, it’d feel good to have her trust because it’d mean I’m on the right track to impressing my future board. If Camille trusts me enough to do it on my own, it means, at least for today, she’s not seeing me as some spoiled, rich heir who hasn’t earned what’s being passed down to him. And I’m just now admitting to myself that confidence is something I really want from her.
A smile forms on my lips. “I’ll catch you later.” I start to back up and head to the dock. We should be leaving soon, and it’d look bad if I were late. I meet Camille’s gaze for a moment, wondering what’s going through her head.
“I promise to be on my best behavior,” I assure her again, tucking my hands into my pockets and grinning.
I don’t wait for her to say anything else. I turn toward the dock and close the distance to the yacht. I don’t look back. I don’t want her to see the wide grin I wear. I can’t give her the satisfaction of knowing the pride I feel at her handing the reins over to me for the afternoon.
I can’t wipe the satisfied grin from my face, even as I step onto the main deck. My eyes scan the partygoers until I find Mitchell. Before closing the distance to him and thanking him for the invite, I toss one more look over my shoulder.
I expect to see Camille walking up the path that leads to the Pembroke clubhouse.
