“You there, Stephanie?”
“Yes, Mr. Silent. I am.”
He readied his fingers on the keyboard once more. “Can you give me the exact date of Ricco Shimwah’s dinner party, please?”
She did, and James wasted no time locating the post in question.
“Shimwah’s party might have been perfect if it hadn’t been for the clumsy cook who spilled raw egg on my date, @JamesBenton. Let’s show @CamilaCooks that it’s uncool to act a fool!”
He cringed, a sharp prick of heat stabbing at his chest. Beneath the post were comments including the video footage Camila spoke of. People reenacting the encounter, each blowing it out of proportion to a massive degree. No wonder she was so ticked off.
“This is pretty ugly.” He hadn’t exactly realized he’d said it aloud until Stephanie spoke up.
“Adel’s post bashing the personal chef?” she asked.
“Youknewabout this?”
“Everybodyknew about it. You deal with famous people, you have to be ready for the wrath that comes with it, if you ask me.”
James wasn’t surprised by Stephanie’s less-than-sympathetic reply; she’d had her fair share of cruel clients and hard knocks before he’d hired her. She’d overcome them, and he admired her for it. But that didn’t stop the sharp pain from sinking deeper. He didn’t like that this had happened to Camila. And with his name attached.
“It was an innocent mistake,” he said. “We ran into each other. Heck, it was probably more my fault than it was hers. I was…not in a good headspace.”
“Why doyoucare about this all of the sudden?”
James shot to his feet, paced from his office desk and into the adjoining master suite. “Whywouldn’tI care, Stephanie? Just what kind of person do you think I am?”
Camila’s words came back to him with an added sting.If you’re a decent human who recognizes the wrong he’s done to a fellow human…you should definitely recognize me.Yet he hadn’t. As inadvertent as his involvement might be, James hated that he hadn’t even been aware of the damage she’d suffered.
“James?” Stephanie’s voice came again.
He stopped pacing. “Yes?”
“Who exactlyisthis woman to you?”
Something about the way she’d phrased the question made him pause.
“Isshethe chef they called in?” Stephanie guessed. “Because I’m sure we can have her replaced—”
“No,” he spat. “That’s not what I want at all. Don’t you get it?”
Stephanie laughed. “Apparently I don’t. Why don’t you tell me what I’m missing here? From my perspective, you’ve got someone in there who’s probably seeking revenge of some sort. You’ll probably end up poisoned or something. Or blackmailed.”
James rolled his eyes. “You’ve got her all wrong. And she didn’t even know it wasmeuntil she showed up. In fact, she wanted to leavethe second she saw me.”
“So why didn’t you let her?” Stephanie challenged.
James wasn’t sure how to answer that. Only knew that he was very glad hehadn’tlet her go. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.
Call him weak or crazy or already-riddled-with-enough-guilt-from-his-brother’s death, but James wanted to help repair the damage done to her reputation as a personal chef. Beyond that, he liked the idea of spending the next thirty days with her near.
She might just be his ticket to…do things he wouldn’t normally do, as his brother prescribed.
His fascination went beyond her obvious beauty; that trait never had been enough to get his attention. This woman had a certain boldness about her. She was passionate. Intriguing.
“I’m worried about you,” Stephanie said softly through the line. “Death dates can really throw people for a loop. When my father died—”
But James piped up before she could finish. “Myfather died too, you know?” Not that he had to remind her. “I alreadyknowwhat it’s like to deal with loss. I really don’t want advice and I definitely don’t need pity.” Agitation flared hot in his chest as he paced the length of the office.
