by Skylar Hill
When she felt ready, she flipped on her music. The voice of Joni Mitchell—her mother’s favorite—filled the room as she lightly sketched out the lines of the cat on the canvas. Humming to herself, she selected her brushes and began to mix the watercolors on her palette. She used a combination of pigments set in individual pans and the kind that came in tubes, depending on her mood and the intensity of color needed. She twirled her dampened sable brush in a light brown, adding notes of red to add a little fire before setting it onto the paper. As she painted, she slipped into the zone, everything else fading away. Her life became about breath and color, about light touches and camelhair stroking across thick, crisp paper.
When her alarm on her phone went off, jolting her out of her reverie, she looked down, realizing she’d been painting for hours. It was nearly four, and James would be coming to pick her up in an hour. She stretched her fingers—they were aching from holding the brush for so long—and looked around her apartment. She’d strung a clothesline across the room around noon, and there were a dozen fresh paintings clipped up, waiting to be matted and sent to their owners.
Before she could forget, Cam hurried downstairs to the lower level of the split-up Victorian house where she lived on the very top floor. She grabbed her mail out of the box and waved to Mr. Adams, who lived on the second floor and was sitting on the porch, before heading back up to shower and change. Her fingers were speckled with paint. Her smock had saved her from the worst of the mess, but she knew from experience there was at least a smudge or two on her face. She closed her door behind her, turning the lock before she looked down at the mail. She opened the first envelope—a letter from Dr. Young’s office—and when she unfolded the bill, she frowned.
“That can’t be right,” she muttered to herself. She dropped the rest of the mail on the coffee table and grabbed her phone, dialing Dr. Young’s number.
“Dr. Young’s office,” said the receptionist after a few rings.
“Hi, this is Cam Ellison. Dr. Young operated on my sister Evangeline four months ago. I had called a few weeks ago about the bill not coming?”
“Yes, of course, Ms. Ellison, I remember you,” said the receptionist. “My computer indicates we sent a copy of that bill out to you. Has it not arrived?”
“The bill arrived,” Cam said. “But I think there’s a mistake. It says the surgery’s been paid in full. You didn’t even bill my insurance.”
“Let me check for you; please hold.”
Muzak filled her ears, and she waited impatiently until it stopped.
“Ms. Ellison, I’m going to transfer you to Dr. Young. He’ll explain the situation.”
More muzak. Cam idly thought about telling Dr. Young—Mark, as he had repeatedly insisted she and Evie call him at her follow up appointments—that he should change his hold music. Finally, it stopped.
“Cam! Hi, how are things?” Dr. Mark Young’s voice was cheerful, much like the man himself. “How’s Evie doing?”
“Hi Mark, I’m good. Evie’s great. She just finished up her physical therapy.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Anyway, Shonda, my receptionist, said you’d called about the bill?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I just think there’s been a mistake.”
“No mistake,” Dr. Young said. “It’s been taken care of by our mutual friend.”
Cam’s frown deepened. “Our mutual…” she trailed off, cold realization hitting her. Before she could say anything else, a knocking at her door nearly sent her heart leaping through her chest, it startled her so badly.
“Cam?” It was James’ voice through the door. She looked at the clock on the wall. He was early.
“Thanks for clearing it up, Dr. Young. I have to go,” she said, hanging up.
Her stomach sank as realization hit her. James had done this. That surgery should have cost a fortune, and it wasn’t like she knew anyone else who could afford to pay something like that off in one swoop. Heat rushed into her cheeks as humiliation, the kind that came from old wounds she thought had healed over, rushed through her. It was a horrible feeling, and it filled her before she could stop it and really think. She yanked open the door to see James standing there, a smile on his face that faded as soon as he got a good look at her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping inside her place. She closed the door behind him.
“Did you pay off Evie’s medical bills?” she found herself blurting out. “The ones from her surgery?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you lying to me?” she demanded.
“Why would I lie about something like that?” he asked.
“Because I have a bill right here that says her surgery is paid in full. They didn’t even try to bill our insurance.” She grabbed the bill, thrusting it at him. It had to have been him, but she didn’t understand why he was lying, unless he realized how humiliating this was. “And when I called Dr. Young, he said you paid for it.”
James looked down at it. “Cam, I didn’t do this,” he insisted. “Mark must be confused.”
She folded her arms across her chest, staring at him. His eyes were wide and bright, his face earnest. She wanted to believe him. But Dr. Young had said…
“I mean, I wish I had,” he added and anger flared in her chest.
“Evie and I are not some charity case!” she snapped and his mouth dropped open at her harsh words. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at her.
“Of course you’re not,” he said finally. “But medical debt’s fucked up. No one should have it. Let alone your kid sister who hasn’t even graduated college yet.”
“When you say things like that, it makes it really difficult to believe you didn’t do this,” Cam said, breathing hard.
Stop this, a little voice inside her told her. You’re picking a fight with him.
But she was too far gone now. She could feel herself spiraling down, into this pit of embarrassment. She’d worked so hard, for so long, to give Evie a life as free of money worries—and as full of opportunities—as the wealthy kids she had gone to private school with. Cam had always worried about them messing with her because she’d been a scholarship kid. She didn’t want anyone’s pity or charity. She could take care of Evie on her own. They took care of each other. That’s how they’d survived.
The medical debt would’ve dragged her down, but Cam would’ve found a way to tackle it. She always found a way. She’d found a way to move to Portland when Evie had gotten her scholarship. She’d made a life for them. She’d gotten Evie to college and then made sure she didn’t have to worry about anything but studying. And it had worked. Only two semesters from graduating, Evie already had job offers. She was going to have an incredible life, doing incredible things with that incredible mind of hers.
She didn’t need any White Knight to come swooping in to solve her problems. She solved her own damn problems.
“I didn’t pay off the bill,” James said firmly. “And frankly, I’m kind of hurt you don’t believe me. I’m not a liar, Cam. I’ve never lied to you.”
She couldn’t stop the suspicion she knew was written all over her face. It didn’t make sense if he hadn’t been the one to pay it.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, and he ran a hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his head, his lips pressing together.
“The doctor—“ she started weakly.
“He’s wrong,” James said firmly. “Fuck, Cam,” he muttered, the first sign of anger sparking in his handsome face. “What the hell do I have to do to get you to trust me?”
“I do trust you,” she protested automatically.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You don’t trust me when I say I didn’t do this. You’re evasive about certain subjects—about growing up, about how things were, raising Evie by yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you even mention your father or your hometown. You always sidestep the subjects, and I keep letting you,
because I keep telling myself you’ll get there eventually. That you’ll trust me. But you don’t share things with me. You leave me guessing. You’re like a lone wolf. A warrior queen, the only one left standing after a battle. And I’m right here. I want to be by your side. But I can’t take it any of it off your shoulders if I don’t know what it is.”
“I don’t need you to save me,” Cam said. “I already saved myself.”
He sighed. “And there you go again, leaving me breadcrumbs, not ever giving me the full story. I want to know you, Cam. Your stories. Your happiness. Your pain. The good, the bad, the ugly, the tragic. I want to know everything. But you don’t let me.”
You won’t look at me the same if you know the truth, she thought, her eyes filling with tears. She felt like she’d run a marathon, her body aching almost as heavily as her heart. “Look,” she said, and even to her own ears, her voice sounded tremulous. Her mind reeled with how this had spiraled so fast, and she knew the fault lay with her. “I know we like each other—“
“Like each other?” he echoed. And then he let out a laugh—a harsh, horrible sound that pierced through her like a knife. He looked up at the ceiling for a second, as if looking at her was too much. When he lowered his gaze to meet hers again, her stomach swooped. “I don’t like you, Cam,” he said. “I’m in love with you.”
Chapter Six
James
The words were out of his mouth before he could think them through. And once they were out, he couldn’t take them back. He couldn’t stop her eyes, those beautiful, cornflower blue eyes widened, her lips parting in sweet surprise.
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to love her. He was too frustrated. He wanted too much. He wanted it now. And that voice inside him said push even though he knew it wasn’t a good idea. More words came tumbling out anyway. “I love you,” he said. “I am so fucking in love with you that I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“I love every inch of you,” he continued as she stood stock still, her eyes shimmering. “I love your sly sense of humor, and the fact that I don’t think you own a shirt without hearts or stars or cats on it. I love how important family is to you, how hard you fight for Evie, even when it makes you mad at me. I love your talent and your eye for color and your ambition. I even love that you put about half a cup of sugar in your coffee even though it’s sacrilege. I love you. I want to love all of you, Cam. But you’re not letting me. You’ve got walls up so thick every time I think I’ve gotten through, you just throw up more.”
“James,” she said, and tears trickled down her cheeks. “I…” She bit her lip, and the silence stretched between them. “I’m trying,” she finally said.
Dread filled him, because he knew that voice. It wasn’t the voice of a woman who was happy to hear those three words.
It was the voice of a woman torn.
Did she mean she was trying to lower her walls? Trying to love him?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
He swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotion rising inside him. He’d been so sure that she felt the same. That she was in the same place as him. If you’d asked him this morning…
But she was looking at him like he’d just broken her heart instead of handing over his on a silver platter and it fucking hurt. It tore a hole in him that couldn’t be filled with anything but her love.
“Fuck,” he said, looking away from her. “I… I’m gonna go.” He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here. To figure this the fuck out. But she didn’t protest, she just stood there, silent tears tracking down her face.
He didn’t reach out and touch her, but he waited until her gaze met his.
“I love you,” he said again, half-afraid it’d be the last time he’d ever get to say it to her. “I’m always going to love you. No matter what, Cam.”
It was a vow, an open door, and a declaration all at once. It was the only thing he could give her in that moment. And as he walked away, he prayed it’d be enough.
When James got home, he felt like he’d been through a war. He tossed his keys onto the bamboo counter, his eyes burning with exhaustion. He wanted to throw himself down on his bed and never get up. Or maybe just stand under the spray of a hot-as-hell shower for as long as he could bear it, letting the water wash away as much of his stress and anger as it could.
“Where have you been?”
He turned toward the voice, realizing Aiden was sitting on his couch.
“Fuck,” he said, remembering. “Cam and I were supposed to meet you for drinks. Lydia was going to stop by.” He yanked his phone out of his pocket and saw a back and forth of missed text messages from both Aiden and Lydia.
“You left me alone with Lydia,” Aiden said accusingly.
“The horror,” James drawled sarcastically, thinking that maybe Cam and Tasha were right.
“She made me look at tablecloth samples,” Aiden said. “And then I had to drive her home because that woman thinks she can drink anyone under the table.”
“Speaking of drinking…” James said, going over to his bar and pouring himself a slug of whiskey and downing it before he went and sat across from Aiden.
“You look like crap,” his brother said.
It had been such a shit-show of an evening that James didn’t even know where to start. “I’ve had quite a day,” he said. He took another drink. “I think Cam just dumped me. Or is getting ready to.”
“What?” Aiden straightened up, frowning. “Bullshit. You two are sickeningly cute together. She’s totally gone on you.”
“I don’t know what the fuck happened,” James said, still reeling from the night’s events. “I go to pick her up for dinner, and she’s obviously really upset. She’s ghostly white, just… she wouldn’t even let me touch her.” When she’d flinched away from him, like she expected him to hurt her, he’d been horrified.
“What happened?”
“I have no idea,” James said. “She starts asking me about Evie’s hospital bill. You know, the one from the car accident when she broke her leg, right when Cam and I first met? She kept accusing me of paying it,” he shook his head, bewildered. “I didn’t. But it didn’t seem to matter. I don’t think she believed me. She was so pissed.”
“Why would she be pissed?” Aiden asked.
“She thought it was pity or charity or something,” James sighed. “It really rubbed her wrong. I knew she must’ve grown up kind of poor, but she doesn’t talk about it enough for me to realize it was such a sore spot. I gotta figure this out. I gotta call Mark and ask him what the hell happened with the surgery bill.”
“Oh,” Aiden said, his eyes flashing guiltily. “About that…”
James sat straight up, glaring at his brother. “You didn’t!” he said, anger filling him. But of course he did. Who else in Evie’s life was going to shell out a few hundred grand to pay off her medical bills? “What the hell, Aiden? What were you thinking?” A horrific thought struck him. “You’re not sleeping with Evie, are you?”
Aiden shot him a dangerous look that sent an icy sweep of blood through his veins. “God, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, disgust painting his face. “First of all, she’s barely old enough to drink. I don’t go for younger women. And second, she’s my intern. I’d never abuse my power that way.”
“Okay, then walk me through this logic,” James said, his hands fisting at his side. He really shouldn’t just slug his brother, but he was sorely tempted right now. Aiden had just royally fucked up his relationship, and he wanted to know why. “You just decided to drop what… a few hundred grand on one of your interns?”
“Evie saved the company a lot more than that when she figured out the math was off on the new wind turbines,” Aiden explained. “Covering her medical bills and her student loans was the least I could do after she saved us about ten million dollars and a year’s worth of production time.”
“You paid for her college too?” James exploded. Cam was going to be ev
en more pissed. Fuck.
“There’s no reason to be mad at me,” Aiden said coolly. “I’m sorry Cam assumed it was you. I’ll call her right now and explain.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” James ordered and Aiden raised an eyebrow.
“Are you seriously mad at me for paying off my future sister-in-law’s loans so she can graduate college debt free?” Aiden asked.
“Your future…” James trailed off, incredulous, and Aiden shot him a look.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m not dense. You’re building a business with Cam. You introduced her to Mom. You’ve never done that with any woman. Plus, anyone who sees you and Cam together can tell where you two are headed. Wedding and babies and matching tattoos. Which means Evie is family. And we take care of family.”
“Aiden…” James protested, his mouth suddenly gone dry, not because the idea of marriage and babies and matching tattoos scared him.
No, it was because the idea was so damn appealing. A dream. His dream.
And it might never happen now because Aiden decided to swoop in with his big bags of money and fuck things up, damn him! James buried his head in his hands, feeling hopeless. He had no idea how to explain this to Cam. He certainly couldn’t let Aiden do it. He loved his brother, but his cool and calm demeanor wouldn’t be helpful in this situation, especially considering how angry and emotional Cam was about this. In Aiden’s mind, Evie’s debt was a problem to be solved, so he had solved it. Therefore the problem should be gone. It shouldn’t cause more issues. And that was not going to fly with Cam.
“I can talk to Cam,” Aiden insisted. “She can’t be mad at you for something you didn’t do.”
“But she can be mad at me for my brother crossing all sorts of boundaries and getting involved in her family business,” James said. “You couldn’t have, I don’t know, talked to either of them about this before you decided to do this?”