by A. C. Arthur
Adam leaned back in his chair and sent a smirk Max’s way. “Ha ha. Yes, I’m back. I just took her to the airport.”
Max looked at his watch. “And how far away is the airport again?”
“The house. That’s what you and I should be discussing, the Davis house,” Adam said in no uncertain terms. Whatever was going on between him and Camille, which was nothing because he wasn’t looking for a romantic entanglement with a person who he was doing business with, he wasn’t about to discuss it with Max.
Max nodded knowingly. “Good, because that’s exactly what I came in here to talk about. We can have an inspector in L.A. by the end of the week. Preliminarily I think the house is structurally sound. But the renovations I’ve got in mind are going to call for some demolition so I just want to make sure we’re okay in that area. What do you want to do about interior work? How involved do you think Camille will want to be?”
For a moment Adam looked at Max strangely. Had he just called Camille by her first name? He didn’t like the sound of her name on another man’s lips, even if it was his cousin. It just sounded too intimate. But before he could make a foolish remark about it he took a deep steadying breath. “I’d like to keep her as involved as possible,” he said slowly then looked around his desk for the magazines he’d been looking at earlier this morning.
“You’d like to keep her involved? I’m afraid to ask what that involvement would entail. But since I know you—” Max paused.
Adam ceased his search to glare at Max. “Let’s keep our mind on business, shall we?”
Max chuckled. “If you can, I can.”
“Here it is,” Adam said and tossed the magazine in Max’s direction. “I think contemporary Asian is a good way to go. With the large windows and open space it’ll be a good contrast to the dated look it has now.” That brought his thoughts back to something Camille had said to him. She’d once thought of the house as a castle. “The house has an old elegant feel. I’d like to keep that elegance but modernize it a bit.”
Max flipped through the magazine.
“What do you think?” Adam asked.
“I think it’s a good start. Antique on the outside and clean modern lines on the inside. It’s good. I’ll have Chanel call Camille in the morning to get her thoughts.”
“I’ll call her,” Adam said quickly.
Max arched a brow. “Why?”
“Why what?”
Max set the magazine back onto the desk and relaxed in his chair. “Chanel is my assistant. She gets paid a tidy sum to make phone calls. Why can’t she call Camille?”
“Because we agreed to keep her informed and to take her suggestions on this project. Chanel is used to making mundane calls. This will be detailed and in depth. Discussing decorating options isn’t something your assistant should be handling.”
“Adam,” Max warned in a low tone.
Adam threw up his hands. “What?”
“This is business, remember.”
“And I’m treating it as business,” Adam argued.
“You personally took her to the airport today. You had dinner with her last night. Don’t try to play innocent with me. I know you.”
For a moment Adam was quiet, then he smiled. “You taught me most of what I know.”
Max nodded his agreement. “And that’s why I’m reminding you that this is business. Besides, she’s not what you’re used to. Leave her alone.”
Adam didn’t like Max’s words but wasn’t going to spend more time arguing the facts with him. “My dealings with Camille Davis are strictly business. I don’t need you to remind me of that.” He said the words and knew as he did that they were a lie.
“Excuse me, Adam?” Cindy, Adam’s assistant buzzed through the intercom into his office.
“Yes?” Adam answered tersely.
“There’s a call for you on line three.”
“Take a message. I’m in a meeting.”
Cindy cleared her throat. “Um, it’s Kim Alvarez.”
Silence filled the office. Max stared at Adam. Adam stared at the phone. Cindy had worked for Adam since the company’s inception, and she’d known him all his life since they’d grown up as neighbors. So when she said his name again, this time very slowly, Adam realized this was serious.
“I’ll take it.”
The second Max left his office and closed the door Adam picked up the receiver and pressed the red blinking light to the line Kim was holding on.
“Adam Donovan,” he said as if introductions were necessary.
“Hi, Adam.”
Her voice was still smoky. Still as smooth as that drop of honey in a steamy cup of tea. Adam closed his eyes to the memory. “Hello, Kim.”
They hadn’t spoken in years, nine to be exact, and yet she affected him, in a way that he couldn’t explain.
“How are you?”
Because he couldn’t explain the effect she still had on him and because his mind was now crisscrossing between two women he didn’t possess a lot of patience. “You call me after walking out of my life nine years ago to ask how I’m doing?” To his own ears he sounded wounded and if truth be told he still was. Kim had walked out of his life without a goodbye or explanation. He’d awakened one morning and she was gone, just like that. So while her voice still warmed him, he wouldn’t act excited to hear from her.
“I’m calling because I needed to talk to you.” She took a deep breath. “I know how long it’s been just like I know you’re probably still very angry with me. I’m asking for the chance to explain.”
“Explanation time has expired. If you have something else you’d like to say I wish you’d make it quick. I was in a meeting.”
“Don’t be rude, Adam, it doesn’t fit you.”
“You have no idea what fits me. You don’t know me.” And he didn’t know her. He’d never known her. For four years they’d dated, slept together, shared meals together, planned their future together and he didn’t know her. About three months after she’d left he realized that and accepted it as his first major mistake.
Kim expelled a breath. “Adam, I’m just asking for a chance. We can go to lunch or dinner or something.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m back in Vegas.”
With his free hand Adam rubbed his eyes. “Why?”
“My family’s here. You know that,” she said with a hint of agitation.
“They were here when you left so don’t fake the family values trip for me. How long will you be in town?”
“I think I’m staying.”
Adam was quiet, not sure what to say or how to react to that announcement. He didn’t care if Kim was back in Vegas or not and he damn sure didn’t care if she was staying. She was a part of his past and she would never be considered anything else.
“That’s fine if that’s what you want, Kim. But as I said before, I don’t need an explanation and I choose who I’ll share my meals with.” With bitter clarity he remembered the pain of those three months after she’d left and balled one hand into a fist. “I don’t want to have lunch or dinner with you. I don’t want to see you.”
“You’re being childish, Adam. What happened was a long time ago. Let me explain so we can move on.”
“I’ve already moved on. Goodbye, Kim.” He hung up the phone before she could speak another word.
Chapter 5
Camille scraped the bottom of the cup, licking the last portion of strawberry yogurt from the plastic spoon as she sat in her home office. Her stomach was far from full but she didn’t have time for a debate. It was almost ten o’clock. In less than six hours the CK Davis Design fall line would be on display. She’d booked the Gold Room of the Millennium Hotel for this production. The total price tag including staff, lighting, sound and the after party was almost a million dollars.
But it was worth it.
The line was fabulous, if she could say so herself. Five evening gowns, six business suits, six casual ensembles and the twelve-outfit launch
to her young adult line. It was risky she knew, combining a young adult line with her other ones, but she’d decided to take a chance. All of her regular buyers would be there as well as the ones in the young adult arena that had been sent special invitations. The prereviews raved, boasting about Teka Simmons’s—the head of the young adult line— fresh, new designs.
All of this was great news, so why were her hands shaking and her head spinning with worst-case scenarios?
She reached for her glass of water and took a gulp. “Everything will be okay,” she whispered to herself. She emptied the glass of water and waited for sweet relief. It did not come.
The shaking intensified until she felt as if she would fall out of her chair. Her heart hammered against her chest and she slapped her palms down on the blotter on her desk. With vicious determination Camille tried to get a hold of this situation. She did not have time for a breakdown. In one hour she was expected at the hotel. She needed to be dressed, have her hair and makeup done professionally and troubleshoot any and everything that could possibly go wrong with the show. She did not need to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown.
Her cell phone rang and she cursed the loud chirping. Snatching it from where it sat on the corner of the desk she flipped the top open and put it to her ear. “Ca…mille Davis,” she attempted to say calmly.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked immediately.
Camille closed her eyes and groaned. In the last two weeks she’d spoken to Adam a couple of times, always pertaining to the house in some way. Not once in that time had Adam said anything alluding to the personal connection they’d shared when she was in Vegas, or that scorching kiss in the conference room at his office. After berating herself over the issue Camille had decided his business-only attitude was for the best.
But the last thing she needed right now was to have to talk to him.
“Nothing. You just caught me at a bad time,” she said praying she sounded sane.
“Are you sitting down?”
“Yes,” she said with confusion. “What do you want, Adam?”
“Sit back in your chair and close your eyes,” he directed.
Camille swore then switched the phone to her other ear, her hands still shaking as she did. “I don’t have time for this. The show is in a couple of hours and there are a million things I need to do.”
“Sit back and close your eyes, Camille,” Adam said sternly. “Take a few deep breaths.”
She took a deep breath, then realized that as stubborn as Adam was he wasn’t going to let her off the phone until she did what he said. Not in the mood for a tug-of-war with him she sat back in the chair and reluctantly closed her eyes.
“Breathe, Camille. Slowly, deeply. Just breathe,” he chanted.
The first time she did what he said in an effort to speed up this conversation. The second time it was because it was easier. The third time was because she was beginning to feel a lot better.
“I was calling because one of the rooms on the second level is being demolished this weekend. The blueprints say it’s a bedroom, a little girl’s bedroom. I wanted to know before I got there if there was anything you wanted me to save for you. Maybe some old love letters, dirty magazines you once hid from your father, anything along those lines.”
Despite her immense discomfort Camille gave a slight chuckle. “I’ve already been to the house and packed up the things that I want to keep. I left instructions with the moving company to pack everything else and put it into storage. So your demolition plans are okay.”
“And the fashion show will be perfect,” he said seriously.
She expelled a breath. Why, of all the people in the world, could Adam Donovan so effortlessly ease her fears?
“The designs are great,” she said wistfully.
He chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
“No, I’m not. But then that’s just my opinion.” Camille cleared her throat. “Some of the prereviews said the same thing.”
“I know. I’ve read them.”
She sat straight up in her chair. “You did? Why? I mean, I didn’t know you were interested in fashion.” This was too comfortable. Talking to him as if they’d been friends for years, sharing things that she hadn’t even fully acknowledged for herself.
“Why? Because I’m a man?” Adam laughed again. “I assure you I like to look good just like you do.”
“Okay, I’m sure you don’t need me to entertain you. And since I’ve answered your questions can I go now?” This easy rapport concerned her. The last thing she needed on today of all days was to have her mind muddled by thoughts of Adam and how much she wished she could see him instead of talk to him on the phone.
“Stay calm,” he said slowly. “You’ve been preparing for this day for months. You’ve taken care of every detail right down to the font on the programs.”
She smiled because she’d probably mentioned that to him in one of their many conversations over the last two weeks. And apparently he’d remembered.
Adam continued to speak. “I know this day is very important to you but it doesn’t define you, Camille. You are a good person with or without a successful fashion line.”
Her fingers were still shaking although her breathing was regulated now. She wasn’t focusing so much on what could go wrong at the show this evening but on the sound of his voice. The deep timbre that filtered calm and acceptance through her soul. Her heart swelled and she almost sighed. Almost.
He was still Adam Donovan, her business partner until this deal was done. He lived in Las Vegas, hundreds of miles away from her. They were not involved and they were not friends. And this longing she had to get to know him better would have to stop.
“Thank you for saying that,” she said finally. “I really need to get going if there’s nothing else you need.”
He was silent for a minute or so then said, “No, Camille. There’s nothing else I need. Have a great day.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled and hurriedly disconnected the line. Dropping the phone on her desk she buried her face in her hands.
The walls of the Gold Room were draped in dark chocolate satin and columns lined the walkway separating the first rows of seats from where the models would be on display. Gold chandeliers sparkled while a fantastic light show glittered throughout the room. Music blared through the overhead speakers casting a partylike mood on everyone in the room.
From what Camille had been told the early arrivers were enjoying themselves, indulging in the unlimited wine and cheese displays strategically placed throughout the ballroom.
Backstage was a different story entirely. There were at least a hundred people crammed into the small space. Vanities lined one wall where models sat and make-up artists stood. Racks carrying clothes were pushed up and down while half-naked models struggled to find the right outfit, the perfect wig or corresponding shoes. Including herself, Dana and Sofari they had ten other assistants, the choreographer and the site supervisor so they should have been rolling easy. And they probably were, but Camille was again a nervous wreck.
However, she wasn’t in danger of fainting this time. Not that anyone would notice what with all the people backstage. Her mind kept drifting back to the phone call this morning, to the man that had surprised her with his kind words.
“Okay, I don’t want you to panic,” Dana began when she approached Camille.
Camille, who had been loving her little daydream, was thrust back to reality with Dana’s excited voice. From the way her eyes were dancing Camille presumed that whatever she had to say was a good thing. “Okay, what am I not panicking about?”
Dana stepped to the side revealing a line of four mouthwateringly handsome men and one beautiful woman.
“I know their names weren’t on the guest list but I didn’t think you’d want me to turn them away,” Dana said with a smile that a blind man could see.
Camille knew exactly what her friend was thinking but couldn’t focus on that. Her gaze had been captured and held firm
ly by the man with warm brown eyes and caramel toned skin.
She couldn’t believe he was here, in L.A., at her fashion show. She smiled then felt her legs about to give way and remembered to breathe. “Ah, no. Of course we wouldn’t turn them away,” she said with a shaky voice.
He took a step closer and reached for her hand. “I didn’t want you to be alone today.”
“Adam.” His name came out in a whisper and she tried to contain the tears forming in her eyes.
He squeezed her hand then turned towards the other people with him. “Let me introduce you,” he began. “This is my brother, Trent, and this is my oldest brother, Linc, and his wife Jade. And of course, you remember Max.”
Camille felt a bit overwhelmed. These were four of the best-looking men she’d ever seen in her life. From their well-built frames to their totally masculine aura they were the epitome of fine black men. She swallowed hard and focused on the woman who had the privilege of being married to one of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” She prayed she didn’t sound goofy but couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“The pleasure is ours,” Jade said. “Now since we’re the intruders we’ll just go grab a seat and get out of your hair. You’ve definitely got your hands full back here.”
“Yes, it is a madhouse,” Camille responded, pleased with the down-to-earth way Jade had spoken. Camille was always uncomfortable meeting new people and meetings with beautiful women were definitely difficult situations. You would think that she’d be used to it by now but she tended to consider the models, both men and women, as employees and never really worried about whether or not they liked her.
Jade Donovan was giving her a brilliant smile through kind eyes and Camille appreciated it, immensely.
“I agree with Jade. I’m going to find a seat,” Max said then gave Camille a nod. “Knock ’em dead.”
Linc grabbed his wife’s hand and said, “I expect you’re about to give my wife a lot of reasons to dig into my pocket. But if it’ll make her happy, I appreciate it.”