by Nella Tyler
“Yeah, well. Thanks, milady.” I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand. “Plus, there’s nothing quite like a museum-worthy excuse to play hooky.” I looked down at her hand and then up at her. “Please, tell me what’s going on at work. Who’s being a jackass to you?”
Pulling her hand free, Cammie’s eyes went wide as she played with her hair. “No one! What are you talking about?” Her voice was high, and she cleared her throat. “Work is fine.”
At that moment we were interrupted by the waiter. What was it with the waiters when Cammie and I were out to dinner? Did they sense we were having a moment and interrupt or were they just that clueless?
Once we’d ordered and the waiter had left, I wasn’t about to let it go, however. Leaning forward, I said, “I know that look, Cammie. It’s one I’ve become familiar with in the last few weeks, seeing it my own mirror. Come on, spill. You’ll feel better. It helps to get it off your chest.” I smiled and winked. “You know that better than anyone. And you know you can tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell, though!” she protested. Then she leaned forward with an arch smile. “Oh, and I hate to tell you this, Kris. But now that we’ve spent time together, I know your moves.”
“We’ve only…” I stared at her. “What, you’re that much of a quick study? Geez, you must be killing it at work, then.” I grinned, and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, wait, so if we’re playing that game… Let me guess, did you accidentally misfile something or write an email missing a subject line? Do something that didn’t quite pass the high Book bar, little miss perfectionist?”
Cammie raised her eyebrows at me, smiling and spluttering out, “Perfectionist?”
“Oh ho. The shoe is on the other foot now.” I grinned and leaned my chin on my folded hands. “I’m on to you, too, Cammie. Am I right? Was that it?” I shook my head. “If it was, you know you can’t beat yourself up for every little mistake. Learning curve, remember? And yes, I’m throwing your wise advice back at you.”
Cammie laughed and then murmured, “I wish it was that.” Then she winced. “But, no. Please, Kris, don’t worry. It’s nothing that can’t be solved with hard work and more time.” She gave me a pouty, big-eyed look. “If it continues, I’ll tell you. But I don’t want to talk about B.R. at dinner.”
I sighed dramatically. “Working me with those pretty eyes. I see you’ve figured out the chinks in my armor. And I suppose I should know better by now – you’re an expert at sidestepping questions.” I leaned across the table. “So, are you ticklish or anything?” Cammie giggled. “Come on. Seriously. Do you have any weaknesses I can exploit?”
She gave me a feisty look. “If I did, why would I tell you?”
Sitting back, I laughed. “Well, since you’re not going to tell me what’s bothering you, can I ask you something else? It’s about work in general, but it is a tad personal.”
The smile slipped off Cammie’s face, and her eyes became guarded. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing bad,” I said in a low voice, wishing I’d just asked instead of pre-empting it. Now Cammie was leaning back in her chair and twisting her hands together. Damn, I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable. “I’ve just been wondering how you decided to go into realty.”
“Oh!” Cammie let out a small snort, and her shoulders slumped in relief. “Seriously?”
“Geez, what did you think I was going to ask you? Your social security number?” I asked.
“I don’t know, you sounded so cryptic.” Cammie rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you really can’t just ask a question. Realty, huh? Let’s see. There were a lot of good reasons. First, you don’t need a degree, only a license, which isn’t too hard or expensive to get. Second, the housing market in Alabama has experienced a mini-boom. And, third, I know I’m quiet, but I like working with people. Finding families or young couples a place to live and grow and dream, it sounded nice.”
“Oh,” I said. “So practical. What about your dreams, though? Did you want to be a realtor?”
The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it.
Cammie’s gaze became cool and her lips pursed. “I did what I had to do. And it’s a good job with solid career prospects and opportunities for upward mobility. Maybe it’s not very creative or glamorous, but it’s something that rewards hard work.”
“No, Cammie, I didn’t…” Trailing off, I hesitated, then carefully said, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. It was an asinine attempt to get to know you better. Damn, what is wrong with me? Since when do I put my foot in my mouth?”
She shrugged, her voice aloof as she said, “Happens to everyone, I suppose.”
“Cammie, come on. You’d be great at anything. You’ll be a great realtor. You already are in my book.” She didn’t respond, so I rushed on, smiling sheepishly. “I guess I’m surprised you didn’t do something with city planning or the environment. You spend all that free time volunteering in the city parks. You’re my hero. So, please tell me I didn’t ruin dinner?”
For a moment Cammie gave me a steely look, then she giggled. “Sorry, I was just messing with you. You were so frazzled. I couldn’t resist.”
“Traitorous minx.” I put a hand over my heart. “I think you just gave me a heart attack.”
“Kris, I appreciate you being so sweet, but please don’t feel like you have to tiptoe around me,” she said. “I know we come from different worlds, and you’re trying to be conscious of that, which I appreciate, but I don’t want you to not be yourself or ask questions.”
“Ah, that could be something you come to regret,” I told her, grinning.
“I’ll take the risk.” She smiled back. Then her gaze became thoughtful. “You know, I don’t think I ever did have big dreams or plans. It was out of necessity that I became a realtor. But that’s okay. It’s a pretty good job, and it ensures I can help my family.”
My father’s strong opinions on the dangers of focusing on the money alone for work came into my head, but I kept them to myself. He’d been broke when he started out, but he was never responsible for helping three siblings launch their own lives. And besides, that had been more about creative pursuits, not white-collar ones.
“One day your brothers will be in college, though, thanks to you,” I said instead. “What about then? Maybe you could start thinking about that?”
Cammie let out a long breath, looking taken aback. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“I don’t know, Cammie. Please don’t think I’m being too much of an ass, but I think you could do a lot more. You have so much drive, so much potential, and crazy big brains.” She laughed. “I’m serious. If realty is your dream, fine. But maybe when your brothers are well on their way, you should think about sitting back and figuring out what you want.”
“Crazy big brains?” Was all she could say, as fought down laughter. “You are one charming fellow, you know that?”
“What? You do.” I cleared my throat. “And I truly am, I know.”
Her eyes were dancing. “Can’t say I’ve ever gotten a compliment quite like that.”
“Ah, well, stick around. I am past maestro in the art of crafting the unusual and rare compliment,” I told her. “You’ll never forget ‘em. I aim to be impossibly memorable.”
“You are at that. And impossibly likable.” She smiled at me softly, and my heart seemed to skip several beats.
I was about to respond, though not in words, when our food came and the moment was lost.
After that, the conversation turned to houses. We made plans to see the next house sometime in the coming week. I told Cammie I’d text her when I was free.
However, for the rest of the evening, the idea about Cammie’s dreams wouldn’t budge from the back of my head. I couldn’t let go of the feeling that she was wasting her potential – even at a big, fancy place like Birmingham Realty. But I also didn’t want to sound like a snobbish college graduate or silver-spooned moron for saying that – any more than I already had –
so I kept it to myself.
All too soon, we were splitting the check and heading home. I seemed to blink then we were pulling into her driveway. Where had this night gone?
Walking Cammie to her door, I tried to walk as slowly as possible, but at the same time, I didn’t want to make her feel like she had to invite me in. Or awkward. I’d already put her on the spot at dinner and got carried away just a week ago.
“Thank you, Kris,” Cammie said as we walked up her front steps.
“You had a good time, right? Both your ears still on – I didn’t talk them completely off?” I held my arms loosely by my sides and resisted the urge to hold her.
Cammie touched her ears. “Oh, yeah, look at that. And of course. Like you could be bad company, Kris Boldin.”
“Perfect note to leave on,” I said, grinning and turning to go.
“Kris,” she stopped me, and then, standing on her tiptoes, kissed my cheek A fissure of heat coursed through me and I grinned even wider. “Good night. Drive safe.”
Hopping down the steps, I turned back to her and bowed. “Good night, Cammie.”
She smiled at me, leaning against the post of her porch as she waved goodbye. I kept looking back at her on the way to my car and nearly fell on my face where the pavement met grass. Once in my car, I watched her go into her house and let out a mix between a sign and a groan.
“What are you doing to me, Cammie?” I asked out loud.
Chapter 22
Cammie
Sitting in my window seat was something I needed to do more often I decided. In a fluffy pink bathrobe, my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee and my phone playing a soothing, dreamy playlist, I was in heaven. Outside, the leaves were dripping from last night’s downpour while clouds raced overhead, clearing away for a beautiful day. I couldn’t help but smile as I waited, a little impatiently, for a certain tell-tale buzz.
When it came a second later, I nonchalantly took a sip of coffee and then picked up my phone. Biting my lip, I snuggled against the wall as I gazed at it. My good-morning text from Kris.
Not only was he a smooth talker, but he was a pretty smooth texter. too.
For the last three days, I’d woken up to a good-morning text from Kris, which had grown into an ongoing, relentless flirty exchange. It was to the point where I could barely remember what had happened at work yesterday and I constantly had butterflies.
And this morning, I’d been unable to stay in bed, waiting to see if it would continue.
Today’s was the best yet.
Morning, beautiful. Finally got that pesky schedule of mine cleared up for this week and I’m free on Thursday to look at that house.
But, Cammie, cut a guy a break here.
I can’t possibly wait that long to see you.
Laughing outright, my fingers flew as I responded: Thursday works for me just fine. But how exactly am I not cutting you a break?
His reply was immediate, and I let out a little gasp of happiness.
Simple, really. I can’t stop thinking about you.
Unable to stay seated, I stood up and stared around my room. “Oh. Wow,” I breathed and then typed back a response. Oh, dear. Sounds serious. How about I make it up to you, then? It’s my turn to make you dinner.
I pictured Kris, adorably rumpled from sleep as he sat up in bed, grinning at his phone. Then I shivered a little, imagining him in my room and in my bed. But my phone buzzing pulled me from my daydream into a better reality.
Please please please please please tell me you’re free tomorrow night.
I giggled as I wrote back, Hm, have to check.
Don’t do this to me, Book! He wrote back. There’s no way I can make it to Thursday.
Without even hesitating, I typed back, Patience is a virtue, Boldin.
Not one of mine. Came the response. Somehow I survive – make up for it with my charm.
Laughing, I decided to torture him a bit. Instead of responding, I took my time making my bed and picking up my room. Then, wandering out into the kitchen, a lazy, luxurious feeling consumed me. For the first time in a long time, I had no desire to go to work. I wanted to idle the hours away – maybe use this time to get ready for tomorrow night.
I could, too, I realized. Birmingham Realty gave their employees five personal days a year. Days where you could call in that morning and take it off. No permission or reason needed. I hadn’t planned on using one so soon, but it seemed like perfect timing. And even though I felt a bit guilty, I hopped on my computer and sent an email letting work know I wouldn’t be in today.
Going back to my room, I flopped on my bed and laughed in triumph. Yes! I deserved this day off. Kris would be so proud of me and then probably accuse me of copying him.
Picking up my phone, I saw he’d texted me three times and laughed again. I’d never been much for flirting, but Kris was so good at it, it rubbed off on a girl. He made checking my phone fun. I had to admit, I hoped this good-morning texting would continue for a while.
Quickly responding, I wrote, All set. I’ll see you tomorrow night.
Don’t toy with a desperate man, Cammie – you’re serious? He texted back. Quickly followed by, Wow, how good am I making myself look? Don’t answer the latter, only the former, please.
Oh, please, you’re fine. I wrote. Yes, I’m serious. Tomorrow night. Dinner here.
I cannot wait. Came the reply. You don’t happen to have some sort of time machine or know where I could find a wormhole so that I can get there now, do you?
Shaking my head, I sat up and wrote him, Have a good day at work, Kris.
“I’m stunned, doll. Stunned!” Anna said, for the fourth time. I had decided to pay her a surprise visit with breakfast in hand since I knew she was working on an assignment from home. She had been sitting on her bed eating her muffin, but it now lay forgotten as she stared at me. “It’s like you’ve been body-snatched. Cammie Book, playing hooky?”
“Please, it’s not hooky. I still get paid. Horace said it was fine and he’d see me tomorrow.”
Anna made a gruesome face. “Ugh, Horace Westfall. Preserve me from a chicken in a man’s body, I tell you. Now does he shed feathers everywhere or just dandruff?”
“Oh, Anna. He’s fine,” I said, a little too sharply, while also trying not to laugh. I didn’t want Anna to know that I worried about Horace’s competence more than I should. Or that her description was all too accurate.
“You know I’m right,” Anna grinned at me. “I can see it all over your face. You know that Horace Westfall is a weasel. Most his family are, too. If they started a community softball team, that would be their mascot. The Westfall Weasels. And Horace even looks like one, doesn’t he?”
“Anna!” I gasped and smacked her leg. “Stop it.”
“Relax, doll. It’s not like he’s in the window.” She got up and stretched. “So, do you wanna go shopping and stuff? Get the supplies for your big night?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“Don’t you have to work though?” I pointed out.
“Details,” she waved her hand at her laptop. “I’ll get to it later. Come on, let’s shop!”
I winced. “Honestly, I should have looked in the fridge before I came over here.”
She held up her hands. “Wait, this was totally impulsive?”
“Yes,” I responded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing, forget it,” she said. Then she frowned. “Wait, Cammie, when’s the last time you gave your house a good scrub down?”
“A few weeks ago,” I said. “Right before I started working at Birmingham Realty. It was a decent spring cleaning. It’s fine.”
“Cammie!” Anna looked horrified. “We have to go clean your house top to bottom – you don’t want him to think you’re a slob. You have to make a good impression.”
“It’s not like it’s our first date, Anna.” I pointed out. “I mean, I’ll straighten up of course.”
“Oh, no.” Anna was digging out leggings and
a sports bra from her dresser. “This is the first time he’s been to your place. It’s gotta be spotless. No argument.”
“Whatever you say, Anna.” I laughed and began to eat her muffin. “I’ll take help cleaning.”
Once back at my house, Anna and I spent the entire morning cleaning. By noon, we were mostly done. All that was left was my room, which was already pretty neat, and the kitchen.
“You’re looking a bit bare in this fridge, Cams,” Anna said, peering into it. “When’s the last time you went food shopping? Are you living on tuna and lemons?”
I made a face. “I’ve been busy.”
“Getting busy, I know, I know!” Anna rejoined. “So what are you gonna make?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Nothing fancy. I’m a decent cook, but not great.”
“Woah, untrue,” she said. “You’re mean with a skillet. Besides, didn’t you used to cook for your brothers all the time when you guys were growing up?”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t anything special. Burgers, chicken, basic sautéed vegetables…”
Tapping her chin, Anna leaned against the counter. “I think you should keep it simple.”
“Oh?” I asked. “So, what do you suggest?”
“Start with a nice, crisp salad. Then your baked chicken and oh my God!” She exclaimed.
I jumped. “What? What is it?”
Anna’s eyes were shining. “Your biscuits, Cammie. Come on, those are to die for.”
“Well, okay. Those are pretty good,” I admitted.
“Cammie, didn’t you like win first place at a county fair cook-off with those biscuits?” Anna shook her blond curls at me. “Honestly. Take a little credit once in a while.”
“Fine, biscuits.” I rolled my eyes. “Any other suggestions?”
“Maybe some slow-cooked grits? Load ‘em with flavor? Or is that too heavy?
“I’ll think about it,” I said, even though I knew there was no way I was making grits. “And how about some asparagus and zucchini for the side dish? I saw some at the farmer’s market the other day that looked delicious.”