"Cancel the design review," I interrupt, the mere mention of her name making my chest tighten. "And clear my schedule after lunch. I'm leaving today."
Vince doesn't bother hiding his surprise. "Leaving? We're supposed to be here until Friday."
"Change of plans." I finally look up at him, daring him to question me further. "Call the airstrip and have them prep the jet for a three o'clock departure."
His eyes narrow slightly. "Does this have anything to do with a certain interior designer?"
I fix him with a cold stare. "That's none of your business."
"It is when it affects the project timeline," he counters, unfazed by my tone. "I thought you said she was doing good work."
"Excellent work," I correct him automatically. "Which is why I've recommended her to Tristan and Julian for their projects. But planning for the resort is on track, and I'm needed back in New York."
Vince knows me too well to believe the lie, but he's also smart enough not to push further. "I'll make the arrangements," he says after a moment.
After he leaves, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. This is for the best. A clean break before Camille gets the wrong idea about what this week has meant. Before I start to question my own rules about keeping women at arm's length.
My phone buzzes—the airstrip confirming they can have the jet ready by two. One hour earlier than requested, which means I can be in the air before Camille even realizes I'm gone. The realization that I'm essentially sneaking away like a thief in the night doesn't sit well, but I push the discomfort aside.
The morning meeting drags on, my attention drifting repeatedly despite my best efforts. The construction manager isupdating us on the final phase of the beach villas, but all I can think about is Camille.
"Mr. Kingsley?" The manager's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Can I get your input on the timeline adjustment?"
I blink, focusing on the plans spread across the conference table. "Proceed as scheduled. Miss Montclair's designs don't require any modifications to the structural elements."
Even saying her name feels dangerous, as if I might conjure her into the room.
Back in my office, I stare at my laptop, trying to compose a message that doesn't sound like what it is—a coward's goodbye. After several false starts, I settle on something brief and professional:
Camille,
I've been called back to New York on urgent business. Your work on the resort has exceeded expectations, and I've taken the liberty of recommending your services to my associates Tristan Vale and Julian Fairfax, who may be in touch regarding their own projects.
The final payment for your services has been processed with a bonus for the exceptional quality of your work.
If I have future projects requiring your expertise, my office will be in touch.
Alexander Kingsley
I read it over twice, hating every impersonal word, but unable to write anything more honest. What would I say?Thanks for the best sex of my life, but I'm not the man you deserve? I'm leaving before I start to want things I've always told myself I can’t ever have?
I print the note and seal it in an envelope with her name written on the front.
Vince returns as I'm gathering my things, eyeing the envelope in my hand with undisguised judgment.
"A note? Seriously?" He shakes his head.
I hand him the envelope, ignoring the jab. "Make sure she gets this after I'm gone. And ensure her final invoice is processed with a fifty percent bonus."
"Paying for your sins?" he asks dryly, taking the envelope.
"Recognizing exceptional work," I correct him sharply. "Her designs are what will make this resort stand out from our competitors."
Vince pockets the envelope. "Whatever you say, boss. Car's waiting whenever you're ready."
I take one last look around the office, gathering the few personal items I brought. Through the windows, I can see the curve of the beach where Camille and I walked that first night, the restaurant where we had dinner, the marina where we boarded the sailboat.
Every inch of this place reminds me of her now, and I can't get away fast enough.
