Page 5 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

FIVE

CAMILLE

“Just wondering, will you be scowling the entire summer, or will I eventually get you to smile?” Ryker asks, his tone deep but playful and, unfortunately for me, still something I’m able to hear, even through my headphones.

I ignore him, choosing to stare at my laptop instead. I’ve never really been a fan of flying, and pairing it with having to fly with him , I’m doing everything possible to survive.

“I know you can hear me by the way your frown deepened,” Ryker points out, humor in his tone.

I let out a long sigh before closing my laptop and looking over at him. “I was hoping that you’d take the hint that I’m not wanting to talk to you right now.”

It’s annoying that no matter what I say, it makes Ryker’s lips turn up in a smirk. It’s like he’s always smirking, something that’s beginning to annoy me more and more. His grin gets wider and wider by the second. It lights up his entire face, which I can notice even from across the aisle.

“If you’re going to be my publicist, shouldn’t we at least talk about what the plan is?” he asks, his smile not faltering in the slightest.

“You know, I thought we did talk about it,” I respond, tapping my nails against my laptop. “The plan is for you not to do anything stupid, for you to act like a grown-up and impress what is hopefully your future board, and for you to listen to me. We’ve talked about it. Nothing more to discuss.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, so are we adding more rules now?”

I roll my eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “No, Ryker, I’m just stating the obvious.”

He’s quiet for a moment. All he does is stare at me, his brown eyes watching me closely. Just when I think he’s not going to respond and leave me alone, he opens his mouth to speak.

“So, do you like the Hamptons?”

I mull over his question for a minute, not expecting the sudden change of subject. “Sure, what is there not to like about the Hamptons?” My family has occasionally vacationed in the Hamptons since I was a kid. We never owned a house there—my dad preferred Manhattan or LA—but I still enjoy visiting.

Ryker shrugs, reminding me that I asked him a question. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out what you do like. Your frequent scowl and slight attitude,” he whispers under his breath, “make me wonder if you like anything.”

A surprise gasp falls from my lips. Every headline about him right now paints him as Davenport Media’s golden boy—just someone who’s been too careless as of late.

I even saw one of the publications call him a golden retriever.

If only they knew that this golden retriever has just a little bit of a bite.

But maybe the bite is just when it comes to me.

He’s been nothing but overly kind to the flight staff.

“I don’t have an attitude,” I argue, narrowing my eyes at him. “I just don’t see why it’s necessary for us to make small talk.”

I let my gaze travel over his face as I try and figure him out.

If he could see what was on my laptop screen, he’d know that I’ve been doing research on all things Ryker Davenport.

The first time we met, he told me his first name, but I didn’t get his last name.

And after waking up that morning and finding him gone, I didn’t care to ever find out exactly who he was.

But now, I want to know everything about him. Only because it’s necessary for my job.

If I didn’t think he was really stupid to talk to that reporter like that, I might actually feel bad for the situation that he’s in.

From what I could find online, he seems like a good guy despite the personal problems that I have with him.

I’ve pored over every article I could find, and it seems that over the years, his biggest problem is that he hasn’t grown up.

It’s obvious he likes to party and is always having fun.

The problem is, now that he’s thirty and preparing to take over the family business, he can’t get away with what he used to.

Ryker clears his throat, reminding me that we’d been having a conversation and that I spaced out. “I figured small talk might be necessary if we’re going to be spending an entire summer together,” he offers, keeping his voice cool and unbothered even after I told him I didn’t want to talk to him.

I sigh, looking down at my nails as I think of a response. “If I have my way, it’s not going to take the entire summer to get your act together.” I look up at him once again, wanting to get a read on his reaction.

He mulls over my words for a moment, and I find myself wishing I could get inside his head. He’s made it obvious he isn’t thrilled about the thought of needing a babysitter for the summer, but I want to know exactly how he feels about it.

I want to know how he feels about me being the one he’s stuck with.

He sighs, his fingertips drumming against his thigh as he continues to gather his thoughts.

“I’m thinking it’ll only be a week or two before my dad gives this whole thing up,” he begins, his tone confident.

“No matter how much the board wants to complain about it, I’m the only heir to Davenport Media.

And sure, I guess if the board really worked at it, they could put someone else in my spot, but they’re not going to do that.

A Davenport has to be the one at the helm of the company and I’m going to prove to them that I’m ready to take it on. ”

My phone vibrates, giving me an opportunity to pull my gaze from his and look down at the notification. It’s an email from my dad, giving me instructions for the trip as if I actually need them.

“I don’t know your dad well,” I start, letting out a resounding sigh as I read over the email one more time before deciding to ignore it, “but the vibe I got from him last night does not make it seem like he’s going to give in that easily.”

Ryker laughs. It’s deep and throaty, and I remember the first time I heard it.

If I get you to smile, will you let me buy you a drink?

Unwelcome memories from that night hit me and I try my best to forget the feel of his body on top of mine. The vibration of his laugh against my skin.

Ryker runs his hands along the tops of his thighs, leaving his palms pressed against his knees as he lets out a deep, long sigh.

“Yeah, Dad’s definitely not as easily convinced as I thought he’d be,” he admits with a shrug.

“I spent over an hour last night trying to tell him that none of this was necessary.”

I fold my arms across my chest, pinning my stare on him. “How’d that go for you?”

He gives me that grin I’m beginning to loathe. “Well, I’m here still, aren’t I?”