Winning Alex: The Cameron Family Saga

by Shirley Larson

  “I don’t think Alex would fire me…afterward.”

  “You think he’d want you around to remind him that he’d once gone to bed with you? No way, Hosea.”

  This was why I’d ask Betsy over, to give me a strong dose of her common sense. Maybe I didn’t want the dose to be quite that strong.

  We ordered a pizza delivery and while we were biting into the wonderfully fattening food, I just realized I’d been talking about my love life and hadn’t asked her a thing about hers. “So when are you getting married?”

  “We haven’t set a date. Sam is out of town looking for work.”

  “Where is he looking?”

  “Some god-forsaken place in an Australian desert. An opal mine. The town is called Cobber Pedy. He’s been offered a fabulous amount of money for a year’s work. I’m trying to talk him out of it, but I’m afraid he’s going to take it.”

  “You can’t go half way around the world and live in a desert.”

  “I can, if that’s what Sam wants to do.”

  “When will you know for sure?”

  “I think in a couple of weeks. I’ll keep you posted.”

  I reached for her over the popcorn to give her a hug. I felt so guilty that I hadn‘t kept in better contact with her. Now she was possibly going out of my life for a year. “I’ll miss you terribly.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll be busy with your job.” She set the popcorn bowl on the table and stood up. “I have to go, Suze. Sam is going to call me around five o’clock and we’re going out to dinner. Maybe I’ll find out what he’s planning to do then.” She reached forward and hugged me. “You stay steady, Susan. You can do it.”

  “Not so sure about that. But I’ll try.”

  That night I dreamed I was trying to find Betsy who’d gone wandering off in the desert. I couldn’t find her. Then I saw Alex, and he was sinking into a sand dune. I woke up in a cold sweat. It was four o’clock in the morning. I got up and got a drink of water and then I lay there, thinking. Betsy was right. I had to keep my distance from Alex.

  Chapter 6

  I spent the whole of Monday morning being super polite and formal with Alex, discussing possible properties for purchase, current renos in progress and hiring sub-contractors in the Caribbean, all the while avoiding his eyes. At one point I had to lean over his lap top. I took extreme care not to touch him anywhere. It was so hard. I loved everything about him, his full mouth with that delicious lower lip now so familiar to me, his scent, his fine-boned hands. They all combined to put me in a state of unbearable sexual tension. My body was alive with remembering the feel of his body pressed against mine.

  As for the business at hand, they had decided to go ahead with “my” hotel, which surprised me. Alex had been so strong in his objections.

  At twelve-thirty I said to him, “I’m going out for lunch.” Then as it had always been my custom before, I added, “Would you like your usual?”

  He barely looked up from his laptop. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  He’d taken his cue from me and matched my formality with his own. I should have been grateful. I wasn’t.

  Fifteen minutes later, I laid his pastrami and Swiss cheese on whole grain bread on his desk along with his coffee. I turned to go back out of my office to eat my bagel and cream cheese when he said, “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”

  I put the bag with my lunch down on his desk. If this was going to be a sparring match, I wanted hands free and brain clear. “I thought you were busy.”

  “No, you didn’t think that at all. You thought you’d escape from me by going back in your office.”

  I faced him squarely. There was no use delaying. The longer I put off saying what I had to say, the longer the tension would build. “I’ve decided you were right.”

  “There’s a first,” he said.

  “Alex, I need to get through this without your asides.” He swept his hand out as if to say, the floor is yours. “We need to maintain a professional relationship.”

  “By that you mean no sex.”

  “You really are the most annoying man, do you know that? You‘re talking about sex, right in the office, right…in front of your father‘s books and everything.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “My father’s books will never tell on me. You think I’m annoying?” He sounded incredulous.

  “You can be, and usually are, very formal, very polite, very non personable, never say a wrong thing. Then you come out with a statement like that.”

  “I thought we’d pretty much broken the ice the other night.”

  “I’d like to put the ice back together if we could.”

  “That’s as impossible as it sounds…on all levels.”

  “I’m trying to be truthful, here, Alex.”

  “An effort which I applaud. It’s pretty much a Cameron brothers’ rule to deal in the truth. Otherwise our buildings fall down and people get hurt. The truth is, I want to have sex with you. No, make that we want to have sex with each other. Because if I’ve ever had a willing woman in my arms, you were it.”

  “Wanting doesn’t necessarily mean having. It’s too…risky.”

  “Risky for you because you might lose your job? Or risky for me because you might leave me and break my heart?”

  “I’m not certain you have a heart to break.”

  “You think I’m heartless? I don’t know what I’ve ever done to make you think that. Now if you could see Hunter in action, you might come to that conclusion. He hires and fires. I, on the other hand, stay in my little room and do the dull stuff. At least it seemed dull until you came along.”

  “I need you to be professional. Otherwise…I can’t go on working for you.”

  “I give you twenty-four hours.”

  “What?” I panicked. Did he mean he was giving me one day’s notice before he fired me?

  “I give you twenty-four hours before you break your fine new resolution to keep your distance from me.”

  My panic went straight to anger, no stops along the way. “That is just…arrogant.”

  He sat back with those laser blue eyes trained on me. “You want truth? That’s truth. And by the way, Miss Zalinski, you need to pack a bag tonight. We‘re leaving for St. John in the morning.”

  He went on watching me as if I were a mouse he could toy with. Hateful man. He knew darn well if he got me on that island again, I didn’t stand a chance of staying away from him. “Yes, Mr. Cameron. I’ll see to it, sir.” I turned out to march out indignantly.

  “Miss Zalinski?”

  Furious, I turned around. “Yes, Mr. Cameron?”

  “Your bagel and cream cheese? It’s still sitting on my desk.”

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Cameron. You‘re so kind.”

  “Just trying to save you a trip. It’s such an anticlimax to return to the scene of an argument.”

  He used the word anticlimax on purpose. I snatched up the brown bag and stalked out of the office. Not very assistant like behavior, I know. Was this how it was going to be? Double entendres at every turn? Surely he wouldn’t stoop so low. But really that man was insufferable. And dazzling. And fun. And a great sparring partner.

  Whether he was being vindictive or simply had a lot of work, he called me into his office and wordlessly, handed ten contracts for me to go over. I couldn’t get through that much material in three days, let alone one afternoon.

  I lugged my load out to my desk and sat down. I could get through three of them before five o’clock. I was working on contract number four when Betsy called.

  “Oh, my gosh. You sound terrible,” I told her.

  “I feel terrible. I’m just calling to say that I have the flu and I’ve probably exposed you.”

  “That’s really nice of you to think of me, but you needn’t worry. I have the constitution of a horse.”

  “Well, I just thought you should know. It came on really quick this morning and now I feel lousy.”

  “Go back to bed, Bets. I’ll call
you tomorrow to see how you are.”

  I felt really bad for Betsy. I was glad she called, but I wasn’t worried. I very rarely get anything and I haven’t been out sick since I started working for Alex. Now I had contracts to finish.

  Hunter and Justin came to collect Alex around eight o’clock for the evening meal. They greeted me as they went in to see Alex. I thought Justin gave me a rather pitying look when they left together. I’m sure he could estimate at a glance how long the work piled on my desk would take to complete.

  Alex

  Since this was a business meal, we Cameron brothers went to a little Italian restaurant that Hunter knew. I walked through the door, loving the smell of garlic and tomato sauce. The aroma alone would make your stomach growl. Traditional white and red table clothes covered the tables, and there were straw-wrapped wine bottles on each table to encourage diners to buy. I always found it soothing to sit here, cozy and warm on a snowy evening with a plate of spaghetti and a glass of wine.

  We didn’t need to order, Giuseppe knew what we wanted, three orders of spaghetti with meatballs and a loaf of crusty bread, no garlic. Hunter and Justin have been swearing off the garlic since they got married. Hunter took out his laptop and began scrolling through saleable properties. He gave us the overview first, two on the Greek Island of Cypress, two in upper New York State, a house on a lake in Missouri that looked so picturesque it should sell in five minutes, and a farm house in Iowa, of all places, one that had been built just at the end of the depression with oak cabinetry and French doors. I had to admit I wasn’t giving him my full attention. I kept picturing Susan here, a napkin tucked in her neck jutting out over those lovely breasts, me forking spaghetti past her beautiful lips into her mouth. I’d bring her here if I could ever break through her reconstructed iceberg. Or better yet, I’d have her stretched out on that super big island she had in her kitchen and eat spaghetti off her naked abdomen. I’d twirl a couple of strands around her breasts. I wondered if you could get a spaghetti strand to stay entwined around a nipple. I went hard instantly.

  “Alex?” Justin grabbed my arm. “You aren’t with us, brother.” He grinned as if he had almost read my thoughts. To distract him, I said, “How’s your wife?”

  “Occasionally a little green around the gills. I’m a great comfort to her. I tell her she’s so nauseated because she’s having twins.”

  “That sounds like you.” It sounded like the old Justin, the fun Justin, the Justin who’d gone missing for almost a year, in despair over his condition of leaking brain fluid, in despair over being dumped by his fiancée. But Anne had changed all that. The entire family loved Anne for bringing Justin back to us. And to top it all off, Anne was having a baby. That made her golden for our mother, Amelia. Another grandchild to love. Anne had brought another young lady into the Cameron fold, her sister Natalie. Natalie was a joy, a teenager who was completely lacking in that teenage angst, at least so far. Natalie was in remission from leukemia and would remain so, if the Cameron family had anything to say about it.

  “Alex. Which ones do you think would be viable?”

  I wanted to give him the old college standby, I agree with what’s already been said, but I’d never get that chestnut past Hunter.

  “Sorry. Wasn’t really paying attention. Do you need a decision on these tonight or can I take them to the island with me, and Susan and I can go over them together?”

  “I guess I could wait twenty four hours. I’ll email everything to you. But get back to me by tomorrow night. It’s been great but I have to get home.”

  “It wouldn’t be six weeks since Liz had the baby, would it?” Justin asked with a sly grin.

  Hunter‘s grin was genuine. “Six weeks today. See you later, bros.” He turned around and was out the door.

  Justin rose, but I grabbed his arm. “Why is it important that Liz had the baby six weeks ago?”

  “Honestly, Alex, you need to get out in the world more. Six weeks is generally the time when it’s considered safe for a woman to have sex after she’s given birth.”

  “The things I’m learning.”

  “You better learn a few more things if you’re going to keep your drop-dead gorgeous assistant dangling on your line.”

  “She’s not dangling, I am.”

  “Well, get busy, bro. You have the Cameron reputation to uphold. If all else fails, get her pregnant. It worked for me.”

  “That implies marriage.”

  “Well, hell yeah, usually. Don’t you want to marry her?”

  “No.”

  “Oh,” said Justin, holding up his hands, “I don’t even want to go there. You brought her to Madeline’s christening. Everyone thought you were showing us that you were going to make her a part of the family.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “My advice to you? If you can’t marry her, let her go, bro. From the look of her at our family party, I’d say she’s already in love with you. If you‘re not thinking marriage…you‘d better not be thinking sex. She‘s the marrying kind.”

  “I can’t marry her.”

  “It’s your party,” Justin said. “But I don’t get it. Why don’t you want to marry her? She’s a perfect candidate to be part of the Cameron menagerie.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her. I…it’s nothing. I should never have brought it up with you.”

  I gathered up my coat and thought how to distract Justin from this unfortunate conversation. “Go home to your wife and hold her head.”

  “She only throws up in the morning.”

  “Well, go home to your wife and hold her hand. And while you‘re at it, tell her you love her.” I shrugged into my coat and hurried out of the café. Outside in the cold, I clicked the button to unlock my car. Once inside, I gripped the steering wheel and then I rammed my head down on it. Hard.

  Chapter 7

  Susan

  I did not finish those contracts by twelve o’clock. It was one fifteen in the morning by the time I was done. Then, just to make things interesting, as I walked home a chilly rain pelted me all the way. Yup, it rains in Rochester in the winter. Such a nice combination, rain, then snow. Maybe if I were really lucky, I’d catch pneumonia and get a couple of days off work.

  When the morning came, I rose, knowing I had the trip to the Caribbean ahead of me. I told myself to eat something, but myself said, not a good idea. Stomach a little queasy. I put it down to the fact that I hadn’t had much sleep and that I was going to be subjected to another whole day in Alex’s company on a tropical island.

  It was a silent ride on the plane and after we transferred to a smaller plane, a bit of a choppy landing. I gathered up my things, feeling a little nauseated. I’ve never been a good flier and the jouncing around we took gave me a huge case of nerves. I kept thinking I’d heard somewhere that small planes had the most crashes.

  I gathered up my coat and my overnight bag and followed Alex out of the plane. At the bottom of the stairs, the heat hit my already queasy stomach like a blast from an oven. It had been eighteen degrees when we left Rochester. Now a sudden plunge into eighty-five degrees under brilliant sunshine was a large shock to my system. On top of it, I seemed to be disoriented. I grasped the rail, trying to fight my feeling of vertigo.

  “You don’t look well. Are you all right?” Alex asked.

  I took a couple of steps forward and had the distinct feeling I was going to pass out. I gripped his arm, I couldn’t help it, it was the only thing available. By sheer force of will I managed to stay upright. “The plane ride…I seem to be sick to my stomach.”

  My overnight bag was wrenched from my hand as well as my coat. Even burdened with my stuff and his, Alex gripped my elbow and escorted me up the four steps to the hotel where we always stayed. He checked us in and pushed me into the elevator. I remember him leading me into the bedroom, taking my shoes off and pushing me to lie down while he pulled a light cover over me to protect me from the air-conditioning. I remember him holding my head up and urging
me to drink some nasty tasting stuff that he said would make me feel better which I promptly ran to the bathroom and regurgitated.

  After the storm passed, Alex cleaned my face and hands with a cool wash cloth and told me three times how sorry he was. He carried me back to bed and said he was going to send for a doctor. I told him no. I didn’t want some strange man poking and prodding me when I knew all I had was Betsy’s flu. After that, I don’t remember anything.

  Alex

  She’s so sick. I felt so bad that I’d given her a pink concoction that the pharmacist said would make her feel better. It just made her sicker.

  She’s sleeping now. To top it all off, it’s raining, a tropical rain that plops on the wide leaves of the banana trees outside the hotel. So I’m sitting next to her bed, watching her breathe, making sure she’s still alive. I tell myself she’ll be all right. In all the time she’s worked for me, I’ve never known her to be unwell.

  Sick as she is, she is still stunningly beautiful. Her skin is so clear, her lashes about a hundred miles long, dark and lying against her cheek. After she threw up the first time, I didn’t try to undress her. I knew the best thing for her was to lie down on the bed and be absolutely still. I shot a text to Hunter, saying that Susan was ill and I doubted that we’d get the inspection done tomorrow on the hotel. I wasn’t going to leave Susan alone until she was over this whatever it was. I assumed it was the flu. I dragged a big old leather lounge chair in from the living area and put it next to Susan’s bed. Then we both slept.

  Susan stirred and looked as if she were going to wake up. I looked at my watch. Eight o’clock in the evening. I needed to take my medication.

  Inside my own suite, I swallowed the requisite four pills. A quick calculation told me that if we stayed beyond tomorrow, I would be out of medication. Not a good thing. We needed to go over that hotel tomorrow and get the hell out of here.