by Vivian Wood
“That’s the spirit!” Erika said. “I’ve got to run, but keep the message in mind.”
“Okay—” she said, but Erika had already hung up.
Cameron stared at her phone. To get the information she needed, she would have to apply pressure… and she knew all too well what kind.
Throwing a last glance over her shoulder at Calloway Plaza, she began her journey home.
9
Smith drummed his fingers on the bar, looking at the couple next to him. They were passionately snogging, really going at it.
It made him think of his latest relapse with Cameron, last night in his office. The woman was like a drug he couldn’t kick, driving him mad with need if he went too long without a hit.
Smith had just been so fucking angry with her after seeing her with that friend of hers the other night, that when she had confronted him and protested that there was nothing going on between them, he’d lost all semblance of self-control.
He’d cornered her, just needing to feel her. To taste her and hear her pleasure at his hands.
Bloody well attacked her, is more accurate, Smith grumbled internally to himself.
He was not proud of his impulsive behavior, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when Cameron had been moaning on his desk, panting with the same need that he’d felt so strongly since that kiss in Paris.
Smith had been so distracted with mental images of her cumming against his mouth and her splayed, stocking-clad thighs around his head, that he’d ended up leaving last night’s charity dinner hours earlier than he’d intended. Just so he could go home and wank himself off a couple times, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that welled up inside of him every time he thought about her.
Smith looked at his watch, needing a diversion from the lustful couple still mauling each other, onlookers be damned.
7:57. He was a few minutes early yet for his meeting with the private investigator.
He sipped his bourbon, hoping it would soothe his nerves. He’d gotten the name of a top investigational firm from the internet. When he called, they were very solicitous, promising to send over their best and most discreet associate right away.
Smith had never done something like this before. He didn’t know what to expect, and that didn’t sit well with his penchant for control.
At exactly 8:00, a woman appeared over his shoulder.
“Mr. Calloway?”
He turned and looked at her, surprised. She was a petite, attractive Asian woman, with a gorgeous body wrapped in a blue chiffon frock. When Smith thought of P.I.s, he pictured mildly overweight, middle-aged white men, wearing fedoras and smoking cigars. Never would he have imagined this dainty little Asian woman to be one, ever.
Which is probably why she came so highly recommended.
“Yes, that’s me,” he said, recovering quickly from his shock.
She smiled politely at him, probably used to trumping people’s stereotypes about private investigators at this point in her career. She held out her hand to shake his.
“My name is Lindsay Wu,” she said perfunctorily, releasing his hand. She glanced around the small restaurant. “Would you care to get a booth so we can discuss details of my investigation into Calloway Corp more privately?”
“Alright,” he said, leaving some cash on the bar before leading her over to the more secluded seating area on the far side of the room.
They sat down across from each other at the booth. Lindsay set her slim leather briefcase on the table, folding her hands piously on top of it as she looked at him.
“Tell me, Mr. Calloway,” she said, cutting right to the chase. “What concerns you enough that you would need to hire an outside investigator?”
He cleared his throat, strangely nervous all of a sudden. The delicate woman was bloody intimidating, making him feel like she was interrogating him as much as the goings on of his company.
“It’s been brought to my attention that someone in the top tier of my company has been mismanaging funds. Or outright stealing, if you prefer,” Smith said, opting for the same bluntness she was using.
She lifted a slim eyebrow, intrigued. “You don’t have any idea who?”
Smith shook his head. “No. I do know that it has to be one of these people,” he said, pulling a list out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her from across the table. “These are the people with direct access to the money. You’ll see that I am on the list, as well as my father, just so you can get an idea of the company structure.”
“I see,” Lindsay Wu murmured to herself in response, her dark eyes briefly flicking over the list, before tucking it away in her briefcase.
“What are my budgetary constraints?” she asked, looking back up at him.
“None. I’ll pay for you out of pocket.”
“Is there anything else I should know before I get started?”
“Well… I’ll email you a link to everyone’s work schedules. They’re all kept online.” Smith ran a hand back through his hair, wishing he had more information to offer her. “If there’s anything else you think you might need, I’d be happy to supply it to you when the time comes.”
“Alright,” Lindsay nodded, apparently unperturbed by the ambiguousness of her starting point in the investigation. “Once you sign the paperwork legally hiring me, I’ll start with background checks and go from there.”
“Perfect,” he said, sliding out from the booth and standing as she did, their meeting over as quickly as it began. “I hope you find out who it is quickly.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Calloway,” she said, offering him the first hint of a real smile since she’d introduced herself. She shook his hand one last time. “I always find my mark in the end.”
She slipped out of the restaurant without another word, leaving Smith alone once more as he silently admired Miss Wu’s directness and confidence in her abilities. The woman was not to be underestimated, at least not by him. He imagined many people made that mistake with her in the past, only to sorely regret it later.
Smith showed himself out of the restaurant, looking at the time again. It was only a quarter after, which only further reaffirmed his appreciation for the private investigator’s efficiency.
He was meeting up with some friends in a little while, which was nothing new. But he was contemplating whether or not he should invite Cameron along this time, as his date.
Not as his date, per se. More like a... guest, or fellow acquaintance.
That I just so happen to enjoy having sex with, his brain amended unhelpfully.
Smith ignored that thought the best he could.
The truth was, he hadn’t spoken to Cameron since she’d scurried out of his office last night when they’d been interrupted by the phone call from Bangkok. He needed to see her, if only to gauge her reaction to what had happened for himself. The woman was as tightlipped as him when it came to... whatever this was that was going on between them, and he was surprised to find how much that frustrated him.
Before he could think twice, Smith called her, just as his town car was pulling up to the curb. He tried not to think about the ramifications of what he was doing as he listened to the phone ring on his line, waiting for her to pick up.
“Hello?” she answered at last, sounding slightly breathless.
Smith humored himself by thinking she sounded that way because it was him calling her, and not because she had to hustle to answer the phone in time.
The thought made him smile a little.
“Hey. Get dressed. Meet me for drinks at Haro in an hour,” he said without preamble, sliding into the spacious back seat of the car.
“Haro? Isn’t that kind of… romantic?” she asked, sounding a little uneasy.
“No funny stuff, I promise.” Unless that’s what you’re hoping for. “I’m meeting my friends, so there will be a lot of interesting people there. You never know, you might make an important connection,” he mused easily, dangling the prospect of professional advanc
ement in front of her.
She was silent for a moment, but she took the bait as he knew she would.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” Smith said casually, not wanting to sound as pleased as he suddenly felt. “See you there.”
He hung up the phone, sighing contentedly to himself as he relaxed back against his seat. He would get to see her tonight, and, right now, that’s all that mattered to him.
10
“Oi, mate! Stop watching the bloody door. It’s not going to go anywhere,” James heckled, having caught Smith glancing toward the entrance to the dining room one too many times.
Smith rolled his eyes, but turned back to the table anyway. James was grinning like a fucking idiot, while Thomas and Charlie chortled along at Smith’s expense. He let them laugh, unfazed by their jesting.
The three of them had already been well into their cups by the time he’d gotten to Haro, and that had been nearly thirty minutes ago now. They’d always been a legless bunch, ever since Smith had first met the lot of them at university years ago. Not much was different these days, except now they all got tankered in fine dining establishments while wearing multi-thousand dollar suits, instead of underground nightclubs in East London.
“Piss off, you,” Smith threw back good-naturedly, taking a long pull from his drink and setting the empty glass back down on the table.
He looked up, feeling all their eyes still on him, watching him curiously. Smith rolled his eyes again, relenting to their unspoken questions with a sigh.
“I’m expecting someone, and she’s late,” he explained reluctantly, trying not to eye his watch as he said it.
That got their eyebrows raised.
“She?” Charlie repeated, sounding intrigued. “You invited a lady friend tonight, did ya?”
Smith struggled for a moment to find the right words to describe his relationship with Cameron.
“Her name is Cameron, and she’s... a colleague of mine, yes.”
Smith signalled the waiter for another drink as the other three men at the table shared a knowing look with one another.
“Are we talking about a rumpy-pumpy sort of colleague here?” Thomas asked as the waiter brought over a fresh round of drinks for them.
“No,” Smith said, too quickly to be believable.
Smith ignored the second unconvinced look they all traded as he reached for his new drink, thinking he would have to consume far more alcohol than this if they were hellbent on having this particular conversation with him right now.
Luckily, he was saved from further interrogation when something behind him caught their attention.
Or someone, rather.
James let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Gents, I think my future wife just walked through the door.”
Charlie smirked. “Why would a girl like that look twice at your ugly mug, when there are far more attractive options at this table?”
“Yeah, like me,” Thomas chimed in, his eyes also riveted on whoever they were ogling.
Curiosity piqued, Smith half turned in his seat to see who they were talking about, and his heart stilled in his chest.
Only to start beating again, twice as hard as it had been moments before.
Because there stood Cameron, her neck slightly craned as she searched for him amongst the tables, looking positively breathtaking.
She wore a dark navy cocktail dress made of lace that clung to every inch of her, forming to her body like a second skin. The blue of her dress complemented her fair complexion and red hair wonderfully, making her look positively radiant in the soft lighting of the dining room. And of course she’d rounded out the entire ensemble with her now signature stockings and matching black fuck-me pumps. Smith couldn’t look away from her, even if he wanted to.
He and his friends weren’t the only ones whose attention she’d garnered either. Smith noted that nearly every male head in her vicinity was turned her way, like moths drawn to an irresistible flame. The realization made Smith feel instantly possessive over her. He had to fight the irrational urge to go full-on neanderthal by stomping over there and staking his claim on her with an inappropriate display of affection.
Smith’s struggles with his jealousy were forgotten when Cameron suddenly turned her head in his direction and their eyes locked from across the room. A tightness eased in his chest that Smith hadn’t even realized was there until it was already gone, and, for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people on the Earth, let alone in this restaurant.
“Shit, she’s headed this way,” someone--Charlie maybe--said. “If she asks, I’m not married.”
“I doubt it comes up,” James replied. “Red is only coming over here to ask me where I’ve been all her life.”
“I’m afraid you’re both wrong,” Smith said without turning around, his eyes only for Cameron.
He stood as she approached their table, taking her hand in his as he lifted it to his mouth so he could kiss the back of it. Her familiar vanilla scent enveloped him fully, and it was all Smith could do to not just stand there and breathe it in.
“Hi,” he murmured against her skin, so softly that only she could hear him. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
Cameron gave a barely perceptible shiver as he lowered her hand, but didn’t release it. Their eyes met again, and, when a slight blush bloomed across her cheeks, Smith had to repress his own shiver of excitement as he recalled once again what had happened between them the last time he’d seen her.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Cameron said, keeping her voice as low as he had. She gave a small shrug and a sheepish half-smile. “I wasn’t sure what to wear to this thing.”
“You look perfect,” Smith reassured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as his eyes traveled over her body again, unable to resist the temptation when she was standing here before him looking like this. “Absolutely exquisite.”
The sound of a throat being pointedly cleared from behind them made Smith remember that they were not alone here. He released Cameron’s hand as they both turned to face the table where his friends were sitting, their expressions quizzically amused.
“Guys, this is Cameron. Cameron, this is Charlie, James, and Thomas,” Smith said, indicating each of the men as he introduced them.
“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Cameron said politely as she seated herself at the table in the chair that Smith pulled out for her.
“And what a pleasure it is,” James replied, giving her a cheeky smile. “Smith failed to mention how beautiful his colleague was when he told us you’d be joining us.”
Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but Smith cut her off.
“Ignore him,” he said to her as he reclaimed his seat to her left. He glared at James from across the table. “He thinks he’s far wittier than he actually is.”
“One doesn’t require wit to proclaim such truths,” James quipped, his gaze still on Cameron. “Only eyes.”
Cameron giggled at James’ unsubtle attempts at flirting with her, while Smith just rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright, enough of that,” Charlie interjected impatiently, waving a hand at James. “Keep talking, and you’ll scare the poor girl off.”
“I’m just making conversation,” James said innocently, throwing a wink at Cameron as he faced her again. “Isn’t that right, love?”
Cameron laughed once more. Smith just shook his head exasperatedly at James, who gave Smith a wide, unapologetic grin in return.
“Would you like a drink?” Smith asked Cameron, opting for a change in subject, rather than give James the satisfaction of arguing further.
“A whiskey, neat. Or maybe a scotch,” she said, smiling wryly up at him.
“A whiskey girl, huh?” Thomas said from where he was sitting at Cameron’s right. He nodded his head in approval. “I like a girl that knows how to drink properly.”
“Yeah, you and every other Brit at this table,” Charlie grumbled as Thomas stopped
a passing waiter to put in Cameron’s drink order before he bustled off to the bar.
“Don’t mind Charlie, here,” Thomas whispered conspiratorially to Cameron as he turned back to the table. “He’s just put out because he’s married and has nothing left to look forward to in life.”
Charlie scoffed as Thomas and James both laughed.
“I’ll have you know that I love my wife very much,” Charlie said, crossing his arms defiantly.
“That’s not what it sounded like five minutes ago,” James said, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
Charlie scowled, but didn’t say anything else to his defense.
To her credit, Cameron just smiled along patiently as she observed their squabbling, as if men vying for her attention was something she’d learned to endure long before now.
“So, how do you all know each other?” Cameron asked conversationally as the waiter returned and placed her drink down before her.
“We met at Cambridge. We all went to university there together,” Smith said, taking up his scotch again.
“I didn’t know you went to Cambridge,” Cameron said, sounding intrigued as she looked over at him.
“I did,” Smith said with a nod, smiling at her expression. “Why? Are you surprised?”
Cameron shook her head, but returned his smile. “No, just... impressed, I guess.”
“Smithy here was always good at impressing the ladies, weren’t ya?” Charlie teased, eagerly picking on the new topic.
Smith would have liked to throttle him for that, but Cameron just laughed.
“Oh, I’m sure he was,” she said coyly, taking a sip of her drink as she gave Smith a taunting smile that made the other three men chuckle.
Smith rolled his eyes, but he was quietly pleased that Cameron seemed to be comfortable with his friends, bloody asshats that they were.
“That was before I enlisted in the SAS,” he said, for Cameron’s benefit, more so than anyone else's.
“Yeah. And then we didn’t see his ass for four years after that,” Thomas added. “By that time, we’d all already relocated to the States for business reasons.”