Page 17 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

SEVENTEEN

RYKER

Camille leaves me alone longer than I thought she would.

I sit across from Beck as he talks about a time not too long ago when his board didn’t have full faith in him.

Apparently, some article had been published about him being too much of a playboy, which resulted in the board of the company he created not trusting him anymore.

He explained that they were on the verge of losing investors before he got his act together and married his wife, Margo.

The longer he explains his situation, the better I feel about my current situation. I have confidence that if he can pull it off, I can too.

I’m alone with Beck for twenty minutes before Camille makes her way into the room. Her eyes find mine immediately. Even from across the room, her glare is reserved for me and me alone. She doesn’t spare anyone else a second glance as she heads in our direction.

“Fuck me,” I whisper under my breath, my body slipping down in the chair as Camille closes the distance to us.

“Hi, Beck,” Camille greets him politely. She gives him a soft smile. It isn’t much, but it does seem genuine. I can’t help but wonder how well they know each other.

“Camille,” he responds, a corner of his mouth lifting with a half smile. “Care to join us?”

“She’s not joining us,” I pipe up, my voice gruffer than I intended it to be. My eyes find Camille as she ignores me and pulls out a chair.

My jaw hangs open as she takes a seat, making it obvious that my words went in one ear and out the other.

I shake my head, my focus on her as she sets her purse on the empty chair next to her and gets comfortable. “Beck is busy telling me about how he fostered a relationship with his board over the last couple of years,” I explain, hoping this will deter her from crashing our lunch.

I was hoping the explanation would get her off my back.

I’m getting valuable information from him, but she doesn’t seem to care.

The smile she gives Beck tells me she doesn’t have any intention of leaving for the moment.

“I’d love to hear more about how you changed the board’s mind.

If I remember right, you were at risk of losing your company, weren’t you? ”

Beck lifts a shoulder as he thinks about her question. It takes him some time before he responds. That’s the thing about Beck. He seems to always think through his words carefully before saying anything. I’m the opposite. Words tumble out of my mouth before I even process what I’m saying.

“It wasn’t quite that bad,” he begins, “but their faith in me was low. No one wanted to invest in a company where the CEO was a mess. They wanted me to sell it and walk away with the money, but there wasn’t a chance I’d do that.”

“You don’t have to tell her all of this,” I offer, sitting up straighter. “She crashed the lunch, and you weren’t expecting to give her all the details of your past.” I aim a dirty look in Camille’s direction. “She doesn’t have to have lunch with us.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Beck responds.

Camille gives me a triumphant smile. “See, Ryker, he doesn’t mind,” Camille gloats, her shoulders proudly pushed back as she turns her focus to Beck. “Sorry about Ryker. He’s trying his best to get rid of me.”

I rub my temples. “And yet, you still won’t go.”

Beck laughs. His gaze drifts from Camille to me and back as he wears an amused expression. “I’m sensing some tension.”

Camille’s plump lips part. Her eyes look from Beck to me. “Tension? Really? I have no idea why,” she adds sarcastically.

Beck arches a blond eyebrow, his gaze still moving between the two of us. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out the reason behind said tension.

“Do you have any suggestions for Ryker?” Camille asks, referring to me like I’m a child.

I clench my jaw as I narrow my eyes on her. “I can ask him myself.”

Camille shoots me a dirty look. “Then why haven’t you? He’s a prime example that boards can be won over. We should be asking Beck more questions.”

“Maybe Beck wants to enjoy his lunch and not be interrogated,” I respond defensively. I was planning to ask him more questions, but I didn’t want to bombard him from the beginning. I was easing him into it before Camille rudely interrupted our lunch plans.

Beck chuckles. He swipes a hand over the tablecloth to smooth out the slightest wrinkle before sitting back in his chair. “You can ask me anything you want. I’m an open book.”

Camille gives me a triumphant smile. She tosses her hair over her shoulder as she straightens her spine. Clearly, she’s proud of herself after his answer. Beck looking her in the eye while telling her she can ask whatever questions she wants doesn’t help my case for getting her to leave.

“I think I like it better when you just glare at me from afar,” I mutter under my breath.

I woke up this morning in a far better mood, and I know it’s because I had space from Camille.

She lets out a small, quiet huff as she looks at me through narrowed eyes. “Well, I know I like it better when you listen to me.”

I give her a smile. As much as she annoys me, it is kind of fun to push her buttons. I remind myself I need to be doing more of it. I want to push and push until she gets so sick of it she leaves this place and leaves me be.

Maybe then I’ll stop dreaming about her. I’ll stop replaying the way she called the night we spent together a mistake, like it meant absolutely nothing to her. I close my eyes for a minute, trying not to remember the way she laughed when Taylor had asked if she was my girlfriend.

Air hisses through my teeth as I let out a long sigh. “You know, the more you tell me to listen to you, the more I don’t want to listen to you.”

Beck whistles, reminding me he was even here in the first place. “Damn, Ryker, where’s this bite coming from? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

It’s my turn to glare at him. “What can I say? Camille brings out the worst in me.”

“What an honor,” Camille fires back, her face pinching together.

“This publicist-client relationship seems to be going great,” Beck observes, a smile spreading across his face.

“It’d be going great if Ryker would just let me do my job instead of fighting me at every turn,” Camille mutters.

“I’m only fighting you because I don’t need your help,” I spit out. It isn’t lost on me that if anyone else were my publicist, I don’t think I’d be acting like this.

Camille’s angry glare stays pinned on me. “Why are you making this harder? We were making progress, and then you just went and disappeared on me for a day. And now, when I’m just wanting to join you in a conversation with Beck about how to make your board happy, you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“Because I do want to get rid of you,” I immediately answer.

I give her a smile, hoping she can see the truth in my words.

I don’t like having to live by her stupid plans and have her silly debriefs every single night.

I don’t like being bossed around by her, and I certainly don’t like the fact that, for some reason I can’t comprehend, I get jealous at the mere sight of her laughing with Jude, someone I’ve known—and called a friend—for years.

Camille stares at me for a few seconds. She doesn’t say a word.

All she does is slide her gaze over my face.

She presses her lips into a thin line, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

Finally, her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath.

“I need a minute,” she whispers, pushing her chair away from the table.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I don’t know what to say to her. She’s doing exactly what I want her to do. She’s leaving me alone. But for some reason, the look on her face doesn’t sit right with me.

I watch her storm out of the restaurant. It looks like she might go into the employee women’s locker room, but I can’t exactly tell from where I sit. I sigh, staring at the spot where she just vanished.

Guilt washes over me as I wonder if I might regret telling her I want to get rid of her. The words are true; I do want to get rid of her. But I didn’t tell her that the biggest reason I need to get away from her is because she’s infiltrating my dreams and my mind, and I hate it.

My skin prickles as I feel Beck’s gaze on my cheek. I stare straight ahead, not ready to meet his eyes yet. I know he probably has questions, and I don’t want to answer any of them. I can’t because I don’t even know the answers myself.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. I close my eyes for a moment as I gather myself before looking at Beck.

He smirks. “I have to know more about what’s going on.”

My entire body tenses at his words. “Nothing’s going on. She’s just the bane of my existence, and I want to get rid of her.”

He slowly nods for a minute. “Is she really that bad? She seems to just want to do her job.”

“She can go do her job with someone else. I don’t need her help.”

Beck grabs his drink from the table and takes a sip. His eyes stay on me the entire time.

I sit quietly, waiting to hear whatever he’ll say next.

“Okay,” he finally responds, lifting his shoulder.

“Okay?” I repeat, wondering if I’m hearing him right. I was expecting him to give some kind of wisdom on why I need to listen to my publicist.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do. If you don’t think you need her help, then don’t use her.

” His eyes flick over to the entrance where, moments ago, Camille fled.

“But I know she’s good at her job. Everyone talks about her in the city.

If you’re open to it, I think listening to her might benefit you. ”

My lips press into a thin line as I think about his words. He says them so matter-of-factly. It’s obvious he isn’t here to lecture me on what to do, and I appreciate that.

I let out a long breath of air as my shoulders sag in defeat. “Fuck. Am I stuck with her?”

Beck chuckles before taking another drink. “That’s up to you to decide. Either way, you should probably go check on her.”

I scowl. I don’t know if Camille has ever been someone who needs to be checked on. She strikes me as the type who probably hates that sort of thing, but I don’t know that for sure. With a sigh, I push my chair away from the table and stand up to go find her.