“You’re going to love it here, and you’ll make new friends.” I can hear his eyes rolling across the phone lines. “Trust me.”
Their impromptu call brightens my day, and by the time I hang up the phone, my attitude is brighter as well. I’ll figure out a way to get past the fiasco of Seaforth Media.
Instead of calling, Sam and Dakota, arrive in my office without warning. Judging by the muscle ticking in Sam’s cheek, he’s not pleased. He looks like my dad: implacable, relentless, and dangerous. Dakota, however, is the picture of calm. She’s wearing a blush suit, her chestnut hair piled high on her head. I extend my hand in greeting, but she draws me into a quick hug.
“We heard about Blackwood. I’m so sorry, Vanessa.” Dakota’s smile is sympathetic but not pitying. I’m growing to like her more and more every day.
“How can you know? It hasn’t even been two hours.”
“Word travels fast in the business world.” Sam raises his phone to show a picture of me storming into Cam’s office for the second time that morning. “And it helps to have a mole planted here and there.”
“Baby, your sneakiness never ceases to amaze me,” Dakota says and lifts on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He wraps an arm around her waist. Their love gives me hope for the future. They’ve survived a devastating divorce and managed to piece their relationship back together, despite the odds against them.
“Just trying to keep you on your toes.” His attention turns back to me. I feel like a naughty teenager outside the principal’s office, about to get disciplined. “I get that you and Blackwood have history, but this is going to have far-reaching consequences, Vanessa. I’ve already had a call from two of the shareholders questioning your motives. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I get it.” I want to hang my head in shame, but I’m too proud, and I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Don’t yell at her.” Dakota places both hands on her hips and squares off in front of her husband. “She’s doing the best she can. You said yourself this was going to be a nightmare. Stop bitching and help her.”
I cough to cover a chuckle.
Sam scowls and says the one word I’ve never heard him say to anyone else, “Sorry.” He draws in a breath and heads to the window. “Just tell me you have a plan.”
“Not yet, but I will.” My words are confident, but inside, I’m a mess of insecurity. The only thing I’ve got going for me is an infinite sense of positivity. Nothing is going to stop me from repairing the situation. “Did you know that he donates all of his profits from Seaforth Media to a domestic violence fund?”
“No.” Sam doesn’t seem impressed. “But I know that he blackmailed our father into becoming a partner and naming him as his replacement here. That’s the kind of guy he is.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Blackmail. Coercion. It’s when one person uses damaging information against another party as a means of manipulation.” Sam lifts an eyebrow.
“I know what it means, smart ass.” We scowl at each other. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it.” He takes a seat on the corner of my desk and exhales before continuing. “I don’t have all the details, but I guess Mom was one of his clients. Blackwood threatened to leak their affair to the press. You know how Maxwell is. He never cared if anyone knew about his affairs, but he sure as hell didn’t want it getting around that his wife was out shagging a man-whore. It would have ruined his macho image.”
The words crush my already fragile heart. “Cam wouldn’t do that. He told me it wasn’t true.”
Sam shrugs. “Don’t be naïve.”
“I know him better than you.” Despite our broken relationship, I have an irrational need to defend Cam. The denials tumble out. “He’s done some bad things, but he’s not like that.”
Sam’s lips tremble. He stands and slams a hand on the desk. “He is like that, Vanessa. That’s the kind of man you’re dealing with. An extortionist.”
“Enough bickering. This isn’t getting us anywhere.” Dakota spreads her hands between us, forming an invisible barrier. “You Seaforths are exhausting.”
My head begins to pound. This job is taking a toll on my mental and physical health. No wonder my dad had a stroke. I place my palms on the cool desktop and try to think. Sam retreats to the window again, turning his back to me. Dakota rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“There’s more to the story than I told you.” The truth about Gaston burns on my tongue. I need to tell someone before I get any deeper in this mess. “Cam is Gaston’s father.”
Dakota’s eyes grow rounder. I can’t see Sam’s face, but his shoulders lift toward his ears. He hangs his head before shoving his hands into his pockets. “My God, Vanessa. Are you kidding me?”
“Why would I kid about that? I haven’t told either one of them, but I’m going to.” A tidal wave of relief washes over me as the burden of secrecy lifts.
“Does Giles know?” Dakota asks. Her aquamarine eyes swim with sympathy. She gives my shoulder a squeeze.
“Yes. He’s always known. We haven’t told Gaston, but he’s going to figure it out sooner or later.”
“When Blackwood finds out, we’re going to be screwed.” Sam scrubs a hand over his face. “We’ll never be rid of him. Have you consulted legal counsel? What about a paternity test?”
“Would you give me a minute? I can’t think when you’re shouting.” The throbbing behind my eyes intensifies. I massage my temples and groan. “Do either of you have an aspirin?”
“I need a freaking Valium,” Sam mutters.
“No wonder you’re stressed out, Vanessa. This is too much. You need to take a break.” Dakota digs in her purse and pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen. “I’m calling Venetia. We’re having a girls’ night out.”
“I don’t have time for fun.” Not now. Not when the whole world is tumbling down around my shoulders.
“You’re not going to solve this problem overnight. And you’ve got an entire building full of people to work on the business side of things. Let them help you.” While she talks, she goes to the bathroom and fills a glass with water. When she comes back, she hands the glass to me. I open my mouth to protest, but she lifts a hand to silence me. “One of our friends is having a birthday party Saturday night, and you’re going. We’ll make it a girls’ night out. Right, Sam?”
“God help me,” he groans. “Sure. Anything you say, baby.”
“You’ll come to our house tonight for supper. And afterward, the three of us will put our heads together about your situation and figure out a way to handle it.”
“Thank you.” Dakota’s calm reassurance soothes my frayed nerves. I give her a grateful smile. I appreciate her kind spirit, but I’m not so sure there’s hope for my future.
22
Cam
Twelve Years Ago
December arrives with a vengeance, dumping a foot of snow on New York City. Winter break begins, a welcome reprieve from classes. The holidays loom around the corner. I try to pretend they don’t exist. Christmas brings back painful memories of my mom. The ache of her loss never lessens. Sometimes I wonder about my grandmother, aunts, and uncles in New Orleans. I haven’t seen them since Dad’s murder trial, although I send them money on a regular basis. I don’t fit in with them anyway, as they are always quick to point out. My skin is too light, my eyes too blue, and my accent too northern, along with a host of other criticisms.
While my classmates travel to their respective families, I spend the time working on my computer hardware project, honing the details, hoping for a second chance with NASA. They rejected my invention the first time but left the door open for any future refinements of the project. Their rebuff only fuels my drive, and I’ve been working day and night to make the needed changes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to Nantucket with me?” Tristan asks for the third time this week. “You’ve been working way too hard. Take a break. Live a little. Lots of babes up th
ere.”
“I’m good. Thanks.” Although I have plenty of invitations to leave the city, I prefer to hole up in the apartment. Kate is eager to spend a few weeks in Cancun. Audrey invites me to Miami for the holidays. And Celeste wants me to accompany her to San Francisco. I decline all the offers, especially California. Vanessa is there, and I’ll be too tempted to look her up. Even though months have passed since we met, I still think about her.
The memory of her sun-kissed skin, the wind ruffling her long blond hair, is worn and faded, but I can’t let it go. She’s the thing that gets me through dry, boring appointments with women I don’t like. Lately, I’ve begun to obsess over what it might be like to have Vanessa as a girlfriend, to be a “normal” guy.
“Alright. Suit yourself.” Before Tristan disconnects, he makes one more offer. “If you change your mind, you can always fly out. Mom will be drunk, and Trish is in Aspen. It’ll just be us guys.”
“I can’t, but thanks anyway, man. You’re a good friend.” Emotional admissions of this sort are few and far between for me, but Tristan is the closest thing to family I’ve got.
“Whatever.” I can hear his eyes rolling through the phone line. “Merry Christmas, bud.”
“You, too.” I turn my attention back to my work. No sooner do I set the phone down than it rings again. I answer without looking at the caller ID, assuming it’s Tristan again. “Still not going, Tristan.”
“Cam?” A female says my name. My mouth goes dry at the familiar voice. “Cam, it’s Vanessa.”
The world stops turning then starts again at breakneck speed. At first, I think it’s Tristan pulling a prank. A glance at the caller ID causes my heart to skip a beat. “Yes?”
“Hey, how are you?” Her tone softens, rife with uncertainty. I stare at the phone, disbelieving. “I hope it’s okay that I called.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” The hardware is instantly forgotten. A rush of adrenalin barrels through my veins. “I’m good. How are you?”
Her tone brightens at my enthusiasm. “Great, thanks. I’m in the city for winter break. I thought maybe we could catch up, if you’re not busy.”
“Well—” I eyeball the project on the desk, knowing I should work, but unable to pass up the opportunity to see her.
“If you can’t, I totally understand.”
“No. I mean, yes. I can.” A moment of silence stretches across the phone line. “I’m just surprised.”
“I know. I keep thinking about you.”
Her admission sends my pulse into overdrive. The project is forgotten. I push away from the desk. “How about dinner tonight?” My breath catches in my throat as I wait for her answer.
Later that night, I wait with sweating palms for her at the restaurant. It’s dark and quiet, tucked away from the busy streets of New York. I chose the location because it’s convenient, and the chances of running into one of my clients are slim. Vanessa arrives ten minutes late. My gaze snaps to her the moment she passes through the entrance.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I had trouble catching a cab.” Her cheeks are pink from the cold, her eyes bright. She bites her lower lip; she’s as nervous as I am. The gesture endears her to me even more.
“No problem. I just got here myself.” A total lie, but she doesn’t need to know that I arrived thirty minutes early. I stand, help her remove her coat then slide the chair out for her. She smiles at me over her shoulder. Is it my imagination, or has she gotten prettier since the last time we met? Her hair is longer, sun-streaked, and trails down her back in loose curls. A golden glow lights her smooth skin. I long to brush my knuckles over the curve of her cheek.
“The weather here is horrific.” A shiver shakes her shoulders. “It was eighty degrees when I left San Francisco.” I resist the urge to put an arm around her. We’re friends now, not lovers. If I cross the line, I may never be able to go back.
“You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,” I tease. An awkward silence thickens the air between us. She glances down at her plate. I toy with the silverware, realigning the knife and fork with my plate.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” The tip of her tongue slides across her lower lip, like she’s parched.
“Yeah. Me, too.” Our eyes meet. Electricity arcs between us. All the words evaporate from my brain. The various shades of emerald in her irises suck me into their depths. We manage more pleasantries over the meal, but all I can think about is how soft her lips look and how they might taste.
We both reach for the salt at the same time. Our fingers brush. She jerks like she’s been stung. I draw in a sharp breath. We stare at each other. I want to dive across the table and claim her sexy mouth. Instead, I glance toward the window and the quiet street outside where snowflakes swirl through the air. Vanessa clears her throat. I tap my fingers on my knee.
“So how are your classes?” Fog fills my brain. Time is running out. Any minute, she’s going to leave, and I’m never going to see her again. Panic swells in my chest.
“You already asked me that.” A tiny furrow deepens between her brows. Could this get any more awkward? I search for something to say, anything to keep her from walking out the door, but it’s too late. “I’m sorry.” She removes her napkin from her lap and tosses it onto her plate. “This was a bad idea.”
23
Vanessa
Twelve Years Ago
I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I hoped we could be friends, or maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that our summer interlude had been a fluke. I had built him up in my imagination to be a beautiful sex god, perfect and unattainable. Sitting next to him in the restaurant only exacerbates the problem. My thighs tremble. My panties are damp. He’s wearing a starched light blue dress shirt that brings out the color in his eyes. The material stretches over shoulders broad with muscle and a stomach I know is rippled by a six-pack. When I draw in a cleansing breath, his cologne permeates my senses.
“Wait. Where are you going? Is it something I said?” Cam stands with me.
“It’s fine. I just—I need to go.” I try to shove a shaking arm into the sleeve of my coat, but I can’t find the opening.
Cam takes the coat from me and guides my arms into it. He turns me around to face him and buttons up the front. When he’s finished, he holds the lapels, pinning me in place. “You can’t go.” The deep rumble of his voice awakens all the feelings I’ve been trying to squelch.
“Why not?” My mouth goes dry as he leans forward, brushing his lips over the shell of my ear.
“Because I’m not done with you.” He takes a long perusal of my body before returning to my eyes. “Yet.”
“What is it, exactly, that you’re going to do to me?” I’m playing with fire, but I don’t care.
“I’ve got plenty of ideas.” His gaze focuses on my mouth. “Most of them involve separating you from that dress.”
The dress is red, form-fitting, and falls just above my knees. My waist looks incredibly small, my breasts amazingly high. I agonized before wearing it. Judging by the darkness of his eyes, I made the right choice.
He pays the waiter then takes my hand and leads me out the door. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“To my place.”
The second we cross the threshold into his apartment, I’m shoved up against the wall, pinned by his hips. One of his hands grips the back of my head while the other slides from my knee to the garter belt on my upper thigh. He shoves the hem of the dress to my waist then leans back to survey the garter belt and matching lace panties.
“This is nice,” he whispers into my neck. He snaps the elastic garter against my skin. “I’m going to fuck you with these on.”
The resistance melts out of my body. We’re travelling down the road to disaster, but I can’t stop. I dig my hands into his beautiful hair, tugging on the curls until he grunts. “Do me here. Now.”
“Whatever you want. Any way you want it.” His words burn against my neck. “All you have to do is ask, princes
s.”
The zipper of my dress growls, and the material puddles at my feet. I step out of it, wearing only my lingerie. Cam’s eyelids lower as he takes in my body. I can’t think when he looks at me like that, like he’s dying to have me. I rip open the front of his shirt. The buttons ping on the hardwood floor, scattering in a dozen different directions. Our harsh breathing echoes through the quiet. While I fumble with his belt buckle, he digs for a condom in his wallet. I yank down his pants and underwear. His cock bounces forward, hard and straight, thick with veins.
“Put this on me.” He presses the condom into my hand.
I roll the condom over his shaft. When I’m done, he lifts me onto the credenza next to the door. The wood is cold; the edge bites into my buttocks. Cam spreads my legs and slides into me with one push. The delicious friction sends shockwaves into my center. His thrusts are wild, uncontrolled, and desperate. I hold onto the credenza, thighs locked around his waist. He pounds into me, banging the piece of furniture against the wall with each hammer of his hips.
“God, you’re so wet, so tight.” His praise causes my walls to flutter.
I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror on the opposite wall. His bare ass fucks into me, lean muscles contracting, pants tangled around his ankles. My lipstick is smeared, my hair a mess. The reflection turns me on. I tighten my legs around his waist. The burn of impending orgasm heightens.
“You like watching?” Cam follows my gaze to the mirror. He lifts me from the credenza, drops my feet to the floor, and spins me around to face the mirror. “Put your hands on the glass.”
I do as I’m told, too crazy for release to question his order. He smooths a hand over my bottom and gives it a smart slap. “Such a nice, round ass. Arch your back and show me that ass,” he says into my ear.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 98