Page 31 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

THIRTY-ONE

RYKER

“Fuck. I’m never drinking again,” I announce, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes as I lean back in the pool lounger.

After spending the entire morning at the golf tournament, I wanted to go home and take a nap.

Hell, I wanted to go home and sleep until tomorrow so I could sleep off this wicked hangover.

But when Cal invited everyone back to his place for a pool party afterward, I couldn’t say no.

To be honest, I only agreed to it because I thought Camille would politely decline and go home.

We spent the entire tournament bickering.

It was clear we were both getting on each other’s nerves this morning, and after being at each other’s throats for hours on end, I just kind of assumed she’d go home.

She knew no one from the Davenport Media board would attend the pool party.

I thought that meant I could have a break from her since I was no longer trying to impress anyone.

I was wrong.

“I can’t believe you still feel like shit,” Jude notes from my side. “That’s one nasty hangover, my guy.”

I laugh because he’s right. It’s one of the worst hangovers I’ve had in a while. But I can’t help but wonder if the splitting headache is from the copious amount of alcohol I drank last night or the fact that I spent hours of alone time with Camille.

“Ugh,” I grumble, pulling the towel over my face to further shield myself from the sun.

“At least you played well today,” Jude responds. “You were playing out of your mind.”

My lips press into a thin line at his words.

It turns out that being frustrated leads to me having a very successful day out on the course.

Every time it was my turn, I’d go out fired up, thanks to some snide comment from Camille.

“Yeah, well,” I begin, letting out a long sigh, “at least I have that going for me.”

Jude chuckles. The sound makes me curious. I move the towel from my face and look over at him. “What’s funny?”

Jude looks at me with a shit-eating grin. “I’m just thinking about how good Camille was. Damn, she can hit a ball. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

I frown, hating that jealousy builds in my chest at Jude complimenting her. It’s not like I should have any reason to be jealous, but the feeling still consumes me nonetheless. “Beginner’s luck,” I mumble.

He isn’t wrong. Camille was far better than I ever could’ve imagined. She was so good that it caught everyone’s attention—including Davenport Media board members. And catching their attention worked in our favor, no matter how much I hated it.

“You’ve got to start being nicer to her,” Jude says after being quiet for a few moments.

His words take me by surprise. I sit up a little and slide the sunglasses from my eyes to get a good look at him. Is he fucking with me? “Start being nicer to who?”

Jude gives me a lopsided grin. “Camille. She’s doing her job. And you keep being a dick to her.”

I blink a few times, wondering if I heard him correctly. Surely I’m not getting a lecture from Jude , of all people. I already got one from Cal about an hour ago. Did they all get together and decide that I’m being an asshole to Camille? Did she put them up to this?

“If I’m a dick, it’s because she started it,” I finally get out. The words come out a little choppy as my mind still tries to comprehend the fact that Jude even cares enough about something to give me a lecture on it in the first place.

Jude’s world revolves around Jude. He’s a good guy.

Everyone loves him. But he’s so wrapped up in his own world that he never really cares about everyone else’s.

The only exception to that might be Cal.

They’ve always been best friends. But other than that, Jude typically only cares about himself.

So the fact he feels the need to protect Camille doesn’t sit right with me.

“Do you like her?” I blurt, my jealousy taking over and asking the question before I can think better of it.

Jude’s smile only widens. “Of course I like her. I don’t get why you don’t.”

I gawk at him, my mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. “Like you… like her like her?” I ask.

Jude narrows his eyes at me. His head rears back a little.

“What is this, Davenport? Middle school?” He lets out a loud laugh.

One that I hope doesn’t catch anyone’s attention because I might melt into this chair and die of embarrassment if anyone else hears this conversation or asks what we’re talking about.

I risk a glance at the pool. Thankfully, Camille seems to be locked into a conversation with Emma, Winnie, and Charlotte and doesn’t even bother to look over at us.

When I look back at Jude, I find him staring back at me with the biggest grin on his face.

I close my eyes and groan. Fuck. Why did I have to ask him that? He’s right. I sound like a damn middle schooler. “I just wanted to know if you had the hots for my publicist,” I mumble, my cheeks heating from even saying the words out loud.

“Would it bother you if I did?” Jude asks coolly. There’s a hint of humor in his voice. It’s like he already knows the answer to his question without me even responding yet.

“Nope,” I answer a little too quickly. The response doesn’t sound or feel right leaving my mouth. It’s said so unconvincingly that even I don’t believe it.

“Sure it wouldn’t.” Jude snickers. “I don’t think you have to be worried about me getting the hots for your publicist.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s clear as day you like her. I just can’t understand why you can be such a dick to her if that’s true.”

I look away from him for a moment. Damn. How have I been so obvious with how I feel about Camille that someone as self-absorbed as Jude has noticed? That’s bad.

“Yeah, well, I’ve tried being nice. She just throws it in my face and reminds me how uninterested she is in me.”

I watch her from across the pool, for a moment letting myself imagine what it’d be like if she’d never disappeared from my bed that morning.

Would she have let me take her on another date? Would we still be dating today?

It hurts to admit, but there was something about the chemistry we shared that night and this gut feeling I had about her that tells me we’d still be together.

I don’t know how it went so wrong. Now, we can barely look at each other without glaring at the other.

I can’t remember the last conversation we had that didn’t end in an argument.

“There’s probably a reason she’s pushing you away,” he starts. “And I’d be shocked if she isn’t interested in you. She keeps looking over here. Every day, she’s always looking at you .”

“It’s her job to look at me.” I wish it wasn’t. I still wish I could get rid of her for the summer, and then maybe I’d be able to think straight again.

When Jude doesn’t answer, I look over at him. When our gazes meet, he lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. “Maybe I’m wrong. There’s a reason I’m well into my thirties and still single. But I’d bet a lot of money that she likes you. She’s just too afraid to admit it—or maybe even accept it.”

I ignore his comment. I don’t want to think about if anything he says is true. If I did, I might get hope for things to be different with Camille. I’m tired of getting my hopes up when it comes to her. Every time I do, I just end up feeling crushed.

“What about Charlotte?” I ask, needing to move the topic of conversation away from me. “You’ve been wrapped around her finger all day. Is there something between you two?”

Jude whistles. He doesn’t hide the way he looks over at her.

“I wish,” he mutters, a corner of his lip lifting.

“She doesn’t date Pembroke members, and she’s way too good for me.

But I wish, Davenport. There’s something about her.

I fucking wish.” The last part is said under his breath, more to himself than to me.

He doesn’t say anything else, and I don’t either. I’m too locked into my own problems at the moment to even dive into his. I pull my eyes from him and look back at Camille. I find her staring right back at me. The moment our gazes collide, she looks away from me.

I purse my lips, unable to look away from her. Jude’s words have me thinking. Is she pushing me away for a reason that isn’t disinterest? Does she think about me the way I think about her?

I sigh and close my eyes, realizing that there’s one looming question I’m not prepared to answer.

Am I brave enough to put myself out there again when it comes to her?

I can’t help but wonder if all this time we’ve spent fighting with each other was just a way for us to pretend that feelings aren’t there.

Or maybe it’s that she actually can’t stand me and regrets the times we’ve crossed a line. Maybe she doesn’t think about me at all…not in the way I think about her.

I wasn’t wrong last night when I told her I don’t like myself. There was a time when I did, but not anymore.

And if I can’t even like myself, what am I even thinking? That maybe she will?

I fold my arms over my chest and close my eyes.

Jude doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Camille only sees me as her annoying client she wants to be done with. I’m her golden ticket to a partner position at her father’s firm. I have to let the thought of her being even remotely interested go.

But there, for a moment, Jude gave me hope. Now, all I’m left with is a terrible hangover and the realization that not only do I not like myself, but Camille doesn’t like me either.