Page 1 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

ONE

CAMILLE

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, staring down at my phone screen. I scan the text over and over again, hoping I’m reading it wrong. Unfortunately, examining it a few more times only confirms what I already knew—I’m not reading it wrong.

TROY VAUGHN

Meet at the office in twenty. We have an emergency.

I groan, propping my shoulder against the wall of the restaurant.

I look across the dimly lit room, my eyes focusing on my date.

Even though it’s only our first date, I was actually enjoying my time with Evan—which is really saying something.

Dating in Manhattan is brutal. Every man I’ve ever met is far too full of himself, or too concerned about getting in the good graces of my dad in the hopes of being repped by our PR firm.

But not Evan. He’s nice . Normal, kind, and not boring at all.

And I’m going to have to ditch him.

My phone vibrates again in my hand.

I let out a disgruntled sigh, knowing that if Dad’s calling me, something really bad has happened.

“Hello,” I answer, keeping my voice composed despite the frustration coursing through my body.

“Camille. Why aren’t you answering my texts?” Dad’s gruff tone leaves no room for arguments and I feel like a child being scolded all over again—and I always hated getting in trouble.

I still hate it at twenty-four years old.

“I’m sorry. My phone was in my bag and I was on a—” I abruptly stop before continuing the rest of that sentence. Dad doesn’t care that it’s a Saturday night, and he definitely doesn’t care if I’m on a date. All he cares about is that I drop everything and fix whatever he needs me to fix.

And the worst part is, he knows that’s exactly what I’ll do.

“You’re needed at work. Be here in twenty.” He hangs up before I can say anything else.

I slide my phone back into my bag before letting out a groan. I look at Evan from across the room as he studies the menu intensely.

God, I hate that I have to run out on our date.

People always like to call me cold, but they’d be wrong. I have a heart, which is unfortunate for me because I know I don’t have the time to explain to him that something came up with work, but I also don’t have it in me to fully ditch him.

Evan must sense me approaching because he looks up with a smile.

Ugh, why did it have to be on the day I had a normal man as a date?

“Hi,” I begin, shifting uncomfortably on my feet, “I’m so sorry to do this, but an emergency came up at work.”

Evan’s eyebrows rise to his hairline as he slowly shakes his head. “Please, don’t apologize. I get it.”

His words make me feel even worse because he’s a pediatric emergency doctor. He really does have to run out for work sometimes and now my job seems minuscule compared to his.

“Right, well have a good rest of your night.”

I know I should stay and explain myself more, but I’ve already spent too much time coming over to let him know I was leaving. Besides, the odds of me seeing him again are slim. I’m sure with me ditching him like this, he won’t be calling me for another date. Not that I don’t blame him.

If I’m being honest with myself, he’s probably too nice for me anyway.

I rush out of the restaurant, already saying a prayer to the taxi gods that I can hail one quickly.

With no traffic, it takes twenty minutes to get to the office.

But this is New York and on a Saturday night, it’ll take at least forty.

I curse under my breath when I find a line of people waiting for a cab.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, looking down the street to see if I’ll have a better chance if I move away from the group of people.

Knowing I don’t have many other options, I hurry down the street and like the universe might actually be on my side for once, a cab rounds the corner and heads in our direction. I know it’s rude because I’m technically cutting everyone waiting, but I can’t worry about that right now.

I wave down the driver and let out a sigh of relief when they pull to the curb.

“Hey!” a man yells from not too far away.

I glance over my shoulder as I grab the door handle to find a frowning man and a woman next to him aiming dirty looks in my direction.

They were technically the first in line but I don’t bother responding.

I open the door and slide into the back before anyone can stop me.

New York doesn’t have any rules, and I certainly wouldn’t abide by them anyway.

Not tonight. Not when I’m already preparing myself for the disappointed look Dad will give me when I show up late.

“Where to?” the driver asks.

I’m in the middle of rattling off the address and begging the driver to break a few different laws to get there when my phone rings again. I don’t even have to look down to know who it is.

I swipe to answer and press the phone to my ear. “I’m on my way,” I state, sitting back in the seat. This taxi smells like pine and it’s so overwhelming that I can already feel a headache blooming because of it.

Dad lets out a disapproving sigh. It’s so loud I can hear it through the phone. “Get here faster,” he unreasonably demands before hanging up the phone.

Twice in one night. This might be a new record.

I roll my eyes and toss my phone on the empty seat next to me. As an only child, I get all of Dad’s harsh comments and poor attitude. It’s also probably because I was a daughter and not a son. I know it kills him that I wasn’t a boy, but that’s not something he’d ever actually admit.

“Boyfriend troubles?” the driver asks, watching me through the rearview mirror.

I stare back at him for a moment, not really wanting to chat.

But since I need him to focus on getting me to the office in record time, I force a polite smile and answer honestly, “Daddy issues.” I nod my head to the road.

“I’ll give you an extra twenty if you can get me there in the next fifteen minutes. ”

He whistles. “That’s impossible, darling.”

I frown at the pet name from a complete stranger. He isn’t smooth in using it, but the wide grin tells me he thinks the opposite.

“Nothing’s impossible with the right mindset. Guess you don’t want the tip badly enough.” I rip my gaze from the mirror and stare out the window, silently telling him the conversation is over.

He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the car ride. Despite his lack of faith, he manages to get me there in sixteen minutes. I tip him anyway because I feel too guilty not to, despite him being over by one minute. He broke some rules for me. He earned the tip.

Once inside the building, I take the elevator to our floor and prepare myself for the worst.