“Yeah, come in.”
She stepped forward, closing the door behind her. Part of her wanted to lean against it for support. Or open it again and rush out, postponing this conversation...forever. But it was that longing that had her moving forward. She had learned to stop putting her head in the sand and avoiding the truth.
“Erik, we need to talk about earlier. I’m sorry that happened here in the shop. I can only assume since I didn’t give my ex and his sister a quick enough answer, they went with the story anyway, maybe trying to force me to go along with it. But I never meant for any of that to touch you here.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “I heard your cell going off all day. More reporters?”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “I have my suspicions about where they got my number, and now I’m considering changing it.”
“Maybe you should make a statement and get it over with,” he suggested, and she locked down the shiver that tried to ripple through her at his cool tone.
Even when they’d first met and he’d been at his best blunt self, he’d never sounded so...formal. Distant. As if he’d already placed an uncrossable space between them.
“I don’t know if that would help,” she murmured, her gaze roaming over his features. “Give them anything, and they’ll twist it into something you don’t even recognize.”
“You’ll probably need to say something.” He tapped on his laptop’s keyboard and turned it around so she could see the screen. “They’re already coming up with their own stories whether you agree to talk to them or not.”
Camille barely heard his last words. A dull roar had entered her head, and underneath it, her pulse pounded like a hammer against steel.
On the screen scrolled a bold headline, “Has Brad’s Luck Run Out?” And underneath, a subtitle, “Candidate for House Representative Bradley Luck’s ex-fiancée and ‘other woman’ seen cavorting with ex-reality TV star.” An article followed and above it was a picture the cameraman must’ve taken earlier while in Forever Ink. Erik stood shoulder to shoulder with Camille, his expression fierce, protective.
And it was all a lie.
“Have to give them points for the clever twist on his name,” she said, disgust and pain a sour swill in her stomach. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath. When she opened them again, she met Erik’s shuttered gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing again.
“Not your fault, Camille.” He lowered the laptop monitor and rose to his feet. “You might want to take a few days off, though. At least until all this dies down and the media stops hovering around this place like vultures. Paul spotted a few more of them hanging around at Sunnyside Grille. They’re not going away any time soon.”
“You’re firing me?” she whispered. Hurt and disbelief crowded in on her, and she could only stare at him.
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not firing you. I’m just saying putting space between you and them, giving them a less visible target, might help this die down quicker. Maybe you should go visit Jeremy—”
“This is convenient, isn’t it?”
The hurt flickered, giving way to the flames of anger. Good. She embraced the anger. It energized her while the pain sapped her strength, her pride. And after all she’d been through in the last few months, all she had left was her pride. Cold company, and it’d abandoned her once. But she’d found it again, and she wouldn’t be giving it up. Especially not here in this office where a man she’d foolishly started to fall in love with couldn’t wait to get rid of her fast enough.
A shame how she seemed to be so easy to walk away from. But damned if she’d ever do that to herself again.
She’d never abandon herself again.
“What’re you talking about?” Erik’s eyes narrowed on her, but she hiked her chin up.
“Just what I said. This whole thing—” she waved her hand toward the laptop “—is convenient. But if it hadn’t been the reporters showing up, I’m sure you would’ve found another reason to put distance between us. To send me away.”
“The fuck?” he rasped. “This isn’t about Saturday or an ‘us.’”
She just barely managed to control her flinch at that sneered “us.”
“I’ve been down this road, living under the microscopes of cameras and having the public give their unsolicited opinions about my life, about me. I walked away from that. Yet, there I am—” he jabbed a finger toward the laptop “—back in that damn fishbowl with random strangers speculating and commenting about who I fuck. About who I am. Bringing up a past I buried. I didn’t ask for this and want no part of it.”
“I understand your anger. I do,” she softly said. “It’s invasive and unfair, and it feels helpless when you can’t combat the lies being spread about you. I, more than anyone, understand that. I lived it, too. For five years. And believe me, now I want to just hide in a hole.” She clutched the back of the chair in front of his desk, leaning forward. “But I can’t disappear. And neither can you. I told you once that you shine too bright, and it’s true. You, Erik, are a light that draws people. You’re safety, a haven, a calm in a chaotic storm. How do you think you were able to move to a small town as far from Vegas as possible and still find another family loyal to you? Who respects you? Who loves you? And that’s what you have here, no matter what you want to call them—employees, artists. They’re your family. And you can keep them at arm’s length, but you’re only depriving yourself of the full measure of the joy they can bring to your life.”
She drew in a deep breath, loosed her grip on the chair and stepped back. But she couldn’t look away from him. Didn’t want to look away from him.
“Camille, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out.
“If it makes you feel better to tell yourself that, go ahead. But this isn’t about my ex or those reporters as much as it’s about your fear to trust anyone else, to love them. You’d rather be alone than risk the pain of someone betraying you again. Just look around you.” She waved a hand once more, encompassing the office. “This shop, this town, your friends here—they’re all a beautiful second chance and you won’t open yourself to all that they’re offering you. Erik, I know about betrayal. You don’t have the market cornered on that. But unlike you, I’m willing to let it go. I’m willing totry.” She swallowed hard, pain radiating from her chest like a beacon. “I was willing to try with you. You gave me hope. But I guess it’s best I found out now that you’ll walk away at the first sign of trouble. I need someone who won’t just weather the storm with me, but who will let me be their shelter from it even as they’re mine.”
“Camille,” he said, and she could almost believe her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
