by Giselle Fox
Contents
Title Page
Copywrite
Dedication
By Giselle Fox
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
More
Claire and the Lady Billionaire
Book 8
by Giselle Fox
No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews. Please note that piracy of copyright materials is illegal and directly harms the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2018 Giselle Fox - All Rights Reserved
To true love, respect, passion, and fire.
To sauciness, romance, fairy tales, and happy endings.
To my beautiful wife; the embodiment of sexy
and the greatest inspiration I could ever have.
Other Books by Giselle Fox:
Sun Catcher Book One
Sun Catcher Book Two
Sun Catcher Book Three
Rock Candy
Rare and Beautiful Things
Slow Burn in Tuscany
Claire and the Lady Billionaire Series:
This is an ongoing series of steamy contemporary lesbian romance featuring one of my favorite couples, Claire and Camille. Please check them out!
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Giselle Fox Amazon Author Page
Giselle Fox on Twitter
Gisellefox.com
CHAPTER ONE
It was still dark outside when Camille kissed me goodbye that morning. I struggled to open my eyes and had barely enough sense to understand what was happening. For some reason, my brain just wouldn’t kick in. I’d been woken from a dream and its hold on reality had me terribly confused.
Camille laughed gently as she smoothed my sweaty hair from my forehead. I remember asking her something, but the question had clearly made no sense; there were no animals that needed rescuing and no ferry boats to catch.
I felt her leave my side and the coldness of her absence once she’d left the apartment. I envisioned a thread of white light stretching between us, a filament that grew thinner with every mile she passed on her way to the Vermillion tower. I envisioned the building sheathed in red glass and that everyone inside was wearing the same red color.
It was going to be a weird day.
I had nothing scheduled until later that morning, when, like so many other days that summer, Sabrina would drive me out to John’s estate on the beach. It no longer felt odd to spend my days with him; nor odd to spend so little time with Camille. As much as I wished things were different, we all had settled into the new normal; with Sabrina, Leda, and even Jasmine doing their parts to keep the machine running.
It was the middle of July and I still hadn’t told my parents that I wouldn’t be returning to school in the fall. I’d been avoiding it for all sorts of reasons. Sherri’s wedding was scheduled for the Labor Day weekend, and I planned to go back a little early to get the Portland house ready for sale. Our belongings needed to be dealt with; sold, donated, or packaged up and shipped back. My friends needed some friend time; my parents needed assurances. All of it needed to be done face to face. I knew that my folks wouldn’t be happy, especially after the summer they’d had, but giving them that kind of news over the phone just didn’t feel right.
Something had happened in the previous two weeks. The sensation that my life was grinding on around me without my control had shifted. Things had begun to feel more permanent; as if suddenly, all around me, there were sturdy hooks to hang my future on.
John was making plans for the fall and winter, plans that involved my professional input. As committed as I’d always felt to Camille, something between us had shifted too. We were partners now; a couple living under the same roof. My role in her life, however supportive it was at that moment, no longer felt secondary to her professional career. I knew how important I was in keeping her going. She didn’t thrive on the same passion for corporate life as John once had; she was surviving on her sense of duty alone, doing her best to control the hornet’s nest that Vermillion Global had become, if only to prove that she could to everyone watching. And for Camille, there had never been so many people watching.
I’d often imagined what her day-to-day life really looked like from the relative comfort of my student life back in Portland. Even with the added stress of having to perform at the level required to win Camille’s summer internship challenge, I still hadn’t come close to what she had been sustaining in the weeks following John’s heart attack. I was both in awe and wildly concerned. A myocardial infarction hardly seemed like a fair reward for all the extra effort.
I wanted so much more for her, but the best I could do was to take over the important things that would have otherwise been forgotten; her father’s care, the homes both near and far, and even myself, to some extent. In a matter of weeks, I had become a wife.
I rolled over and reached for the remote control for the blackout blinds, making sure to shield my eyes first before raising them. Sun poured in the windows. It was time to get up.
I’d left my phone charging out in the kitchen. I already had a text from Sabrina saying she was on her way but that she wouldn’t come up until I texted back in case I was still asleep. I replied and told her to come over whenever she was ready. A few minutes later, she texted again saying she’d made a quick stop and would see me shortly.
I had an idea of what that quick stop might be. Jasmine was still in town and conveniently staying at a hotel between Sabrina’s place and mine. Whatever was going on between them, Sabrina had remained quiet about, but I was certain that things between them had gotten serious. I knew Sabrina well enough to know what all the silence and far away looks meant.
Jasmine’s extended stay in Singapore was coming to an end. Now that the media had settled down about Camille and Avery’s sex tape and their subsequent interview on Nighttime Live, Jasmine was planning on returning to her home base to resume matters she’d left hanging there. I could tell that Sabrina was sick about it. Still, it wasn’t my place to bring it up until she did. It was difficult to stay quiet, but I had to respect that Sabrina wanted it that way.
“She would tell you if she wanted you to know,” Camille had said on another morning.
“What about Leda? Does she talk to you about her personal life?”
“Leda’s different,” Camille sighed. “She’ll talk if I pester her enough. But I’m only really allowed to pester her because she’s like family to me. She certainly doesn’t have to tell me anything.”
“You’re like a daughter to her,” I said. “You’re probably her biggest confidante.”
“Well, she never wanted kids,” Ca
mille laughed, “but then she got me full-time.”
“She was lucky,” I said.
Camille smiled at me. “We both were. Sabrina is good for you too. Look at how strong you’re getting.”
Camille had been referring to all the training I’d been doing. That coupled with our “solidarity” diet for John’s health, I was looking leaner and meaner with every passing day. “Don’t lose your ass, that’s my only request,” Camille said, grabbing a handful of my tush. She grunted with approval. “Not fair, prancing about in your undies when I have to leave for work.”
“This is what wives do all day, didn’t you know? We walk about in our scivvies waiting for our lovers to come home.”
Camille’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Which lover are you expecting today?”
I wrapped my arms around her neck. “I forget… is it Tuesday?”
“Wednesday,” Camille whispered.
“I’ll have to check the schedule,” I said and kissed her. “Want me to bring you lunch today?”
“I have a meeting,” she replied.
I gave her a pretend pout. “No fair that someone else gets the pleasure of your company when it should be me feeding you.”
Camille slid her hand up my body and cupped my breast through my tank top. “Nothing would satisfy me more than having you for lunch instead.”
“Mmm, dirty girl. Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Perhaps,” Camille said softly.
We both knew that it would never happen, though we were happy to pretend. Alluded-to sex was better than no sex at all. It kept me hopeful that things would go back to normal for us one day. Though when that day would come, I had no idea.
***
When Sabrina arrived, we headed up to the pool for the warm-up swim. “What’ll it be today, coach?” I asked.
“Swim, bike, run,” she replied.
It had been the same every morning that week. I had the feeling that she was scoping my readiness for a triathlon, though we hadn’t talked about it yet.
After some grueling intervals in the pool, on the stationary bike, and on the treadmill, we both jumped in the pool for a cool down swim. Sabrina was quiet, which had pretty much become her new mode since the night of Camille’s birthday, but her eyes told me she was desperate to talk. Once again, I tried to bite my tongue, but finally, I had to say something.
“Look… it’s none of my business. But if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know,” she said quickly, avoiding my eye. “I would, but…” She gave me a half-hearted smile before looking away again. Then I understood. Sabrina wanted to talk, but Jasmine had asked her not to. It made so much more sense. “I get it,” I said. “I think I do, anyway.”
“Yeah, you probably do,” she said. She let out a long, mournful sigh and then pulled herself out of the pool. “Let’s get some nutrition in you. Gotta feed those muscles.”
Awhile later, we were heading toward the Vermillion tower. I wanted to check out some old office furniture before heading out to John’s for the rest of the day. We’d eaten a giant stack of buckwheat pancakes with fruit. The rest of my recovery smoothie was in a thermal cup in my hand. Sabrina was in the driver’s seat, burning in and out of traffic as if we were being chased. Leda’s training had changed her for life.
“Remember when you first used to drive me around here, you always had a death grip on the steering wheel. Now, look at you.”
Sabrina grinned over at me. “I like this car better.”
“I know you do and it suits you.”
It hadn’t taken long for Sabrina to settle-in to her life abroad. Whether Jasmine had something to do with it, I didn’t know, but Sabrina was looking more professional than ever, from the clothes she wore every day to the way she commanded the road in our expensive car. She fit right into the lifestyle, on the outside at least. The big question was whether she was satisfied being my Sam Gamgee. It was a strange role for a woman like her to play, and one she’d only gotten pushed into because of Bryce. Lately, I’d been wondering whether she was questioning being there at all.
“So, what are we working on?” I asked.
Sabrina raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Training-wise… what’s the plan?”
“There’s an event coming up in the fall,” she said. “A triathlon in Bali. I think you could place.”
“What about you?”
Sabrina looked over at me. “Triathlons aren’t really my thing.”
“That’s not what I was talking about,” I said. “What about fighting again?”
Sabrina took a deep breath. “I don’t know about that.”
“Do you want to?”
She looked over at me again. “I might.”
“If what?”
She shrugged but didn’t reply.
“If I let you?” I asked.
She shrugged again. “I’m not sure that now is the right time, with everything that’s going on.”
“Now is never the right time. And anyway, training totally blows. Why work out at all, in fact? Screw this diet, let’s go get a burger.”
Sabrina laughed.
“I’m kidding,” I said. “Whatever you want to do, I support you. We can work something out.”
Sabrina nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Thanks.” She looked over at me again. “You’re a good person, Claire.”
“You are too,” I said. “You know that I’d like you to stay here but I don’t want you to feel like you have to, that’s all.”
Sabrina looked at me again. “I like it here, I do.”
“But?” I asked.
“But… nothing really,” Sabrina shrugged.
“It’s Jasmine, isn’t it,?” I asked, even though I probably shouldn’t have.
“Yeah, it’s Jasmine.”
“That’s tough,” I said.
“It is,” Sabrina sighed.
“Well… we’re going back to Oregon soon. Maybe you can take a side trip. Do what you have to do. I can take care of myself while I’m there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”
CHAPTER TWO
Sabrina dropped me off in front of the Vermillion tower. “Is it okay if I wait out here?” she asked. “Unless you need me for something.”
I wondered if she was trying to avoid Jasmine, but her staying behind was fine with me. “I’ll meet you down in the garage,” I replied.
I took the elevator up to the thirty-sixth floor, stopping by Camille’s office first just in case she was there. Jamie was at her desk but Camille wasn’t. “She should be back in a half-hour or so, Claire. Want to leave a message?”
“No, that’s okay. I just came by to grab some things from storage. I’ll try back in a bit.”
I walked down the maze of corridors until I reached John’s old corner. There was Mina, working busily at her desk. The plant I’d given her was doing better than it had been when I’d bought it. She looked up and greeted me with an almost imperceptible nod of her head, a huge improvement from ignoring me altogether. Perhaps we were becoming friends. “Hello, Mina,” I said.
“Hello, Claire. What brings you here?”
“John said I should talk to you.” I’d already figured out that prefacing any dialog with John said guaranteed that Mina would give me her full attention. “We need a spare desk and chair for a home office set-up at his place. I was told you had keys to a storage area.” There was no need to tell her that the home office set-up was for me; that would have taken away all her fun.
Mina nodded and pulled open the top drawer of her desk. “We’ve cleared out a lot of it already, but the storage room is downstairs on the 32nd floor. Mark whatever you need with a sticky note. I’ll have the movers take it out to Mr. Bettencourt’s house.” She slid a pad of yellow sticky notes across the desk toward me. “Room 3202.”
“Thank you, Mina,” I said.
She leaned forward, checking over her shoulder before speaking again. “How is his ankle doing?”
“It’s healing but it still needs some time,” I replied.
“Tell him he should take all the time he needs. You can’t rush these things.”
“No, you can’t,” I agreed. “How have things been going here.”
“I wish I could say they’ve been going well,” she replied. “Miss Bettencourt is doing what she can, but there has been resistance.”
“I’ve heard,” I said.
“I assume Mr. Bettencourt doesn’t know about the situation,” she asked.
“No, he doesn’t. We didn’t want the stress to extend his recovery time.”
Mina nodded like she knew exactly what I’d meant. “We’re doing our best. Don’t worry him. He should be able to take a leave without everything falling apart.” She shook her head. I could tell she didn’t approve of all the dissension. Following the chain of command was what Mina was all about. “Here are the keys to the storage room,” she said, handing them to me.
I took the stairs down to the thirty-second floor. The corridor was plain and undecorated. From the smell of fresh paint, I assumed the white walls were new. I unlocked the door marked 3202 and flicked on the lights.
It was warm in there. The air conditioning felt like it was off, so I propped open the door with an empty metal garbage can before stepping in.
There was less in there than I’d expected; only four or five desks stacked on end on one side, a few chairs and a long sofa on the other. There were boxes of odd cords and computer cables and a few more filled with binders and manuals. At the far end of the room was another door.
The door was unlocked. Inside, was a larger room with a small kitchen that ran along the right side wall. It might have once been used as a lunch area, though the table and chairs were gone. On the left side was a bathroom and on the far wall another small office space.
I walked back into the first room and took a look at the desks that were piled there. One was missing a drawer, and a few of the others were too big for my needs. The last one looked like it could do the job. I tagged it with a yellow sticky note and went over to where the chairs were stacked. They were all, more or less, the same. I checked them over, testing the hydraulics before deciding. “Yellow sticky for you,” I said and placed one on its back.