Cam
I’d liketo take this day and shove it up Lucas's ass. Dude bailed this morning, leaving Al and the rest of the crew scrambling. Now I’m on the fifth floor, trying to make sense of Lucas'sshorthand.
“We’ll manage, ma’am.” Al takes the notes from me, squints, and shrugs. “The first few days were rough, but everyone knows their shit—um, sorry—stuff now, and we can make upthetime.”
“You can drop the ‘ma’am.’ We’re all in this together. Camilla or Cam is fine. Lucas says you’re doing great work. All of you. But we can’t afford any screw-ups onthisjob.”
Al rubs the back of his neck and then nods his head towards the stairwell door. As my footfalls echo on the metal landing, he instructs the rest of the crew to pack up their gear and head up to six. I pull out my phone and read Lucas's messageagain.
I can’t come in until one. Something came up. I’m sorry. I’ll work late, but the crew’s going to have to fly solo for a while.Sorry.
“Something came up? That something better be damned important,” I mutter as I try texting him again. He knows how vital this job is, how much pressure we’re under. His voice mail picks up on the second ring, and as I disconnect, I growl, “I’m going to beat you over the head with my cane, Luc.” When Al joins me, I’m vibrating with anger—or perhaps that’s the extra coffee I ingested to get going today. Unlike Lucas, I managed to show up on only three hours of broken sleep. If I keep stopping at Broadcast every morning, though, I’m going to have to cut some other expense from my budget. Grocery store beans don’t compare in taste orprice.
“Camilla?” Al’s stopped two feet away, and he’s eying me like one would a feral animal. My snarl probably doesn’t help. “Are you allright?”
“Sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I have to spend the whole day debugging. Go on.” I lean against the railing to try to appear lessthreatening.
He runs a hand through his short-cropped hair. “I sent the rest of the crew up to six to start the prep work there. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the guys, but a couple of them made some stupid mistakes the first few floors. Lucas has been working his ass off to try and repair everything, but at this point, we’re going to be running right up against thedeadline.”
The tenuous hold I have on my sanity threatens to slip. “Lucas hasn’t said anything.” Failing to keep the frustration and hurt from my voice, I force a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. When I’m no longer in danger of launching into an unprofessional tirade, I straighten and meet Al’s gaze. “What can I dotohelp?”
He shifts from one foot to the other as he appears to wrestle with his next words. “If you can get us permission to be here after hours and some overtime pay, my guys and I can work the weekend and try tocatchup.”
“Done. I’ll take care of it today. We’ve got another eleven days before we have to start live testing, and fourteen floors to go. Anything you need—anything—you let me know. Abby’s interviewing another three potential electricians today, so hopefully you’ll have help bynextweek.”
“Will do. I’ll tell the guys.” Al pauses at the door and glances back at me. “Are you sure Royce won’t mind theovertime?”
I stifle a laugh. “Oh, he’ll mind.” As Al flinches, I wave my hand. “Leave Royce to me. He might not want to spend the extra money, but he needs this job to go off without a hitch. You just concentrate on getting the job done, and I’ll take care of getting you and yourguyspaid.”
He smiles as he nods. “Thankyou.”
* * *
By lunchtime,Al’s confirmed that he and two of his crew—Zach and Lloyd, I think—will join him tomorrow and Sunday, and I’ve upgraded their security badges to give them weekend access to the hotel’s employee-only areas. I’m avoiding the office—and Royce—by stopping for lunch at Mazie’s. Cowardly, I know, but I need a loaded bacon burger to get me through this day. My phone buzzes on the table as I take my first bite, and distracted, I don’t notice a glob of Mazie’s special sauce fall from my burger and land on myredtank.
“Dammit,” I manage through a mouthful of deliciousness. Now I’m going to have to go home and change before I go back to Coana. No way can I show up with a grease stain right over my breast. Hell, I shouldn’t even go into the office looking like this, but I can’t delay talking to Royce muchlonger.
After going through four napkins, I check my phone, and my cheeksflame.
I want to slide my fingers into your hair, press you against the wall, and kiss you until you’re dripping for me. Then strip you naked so I can taste you, finally taking you over the edge as you scream my name. You’ve been in my dreams every night, and tomorrow nightyou’remine.
My fingers shake a little as I type out my reply. He’s not the only one who’s had intense dreams this week, and I might have packed my overnight bag two days ago, giddy with anticipation—or perhapsarousal.
What if I have a different plan? Like your naked body under me as I kiss every one of your tats, then take you deep and use my tongue in ways you’ll dream about forweeks.
I cringe as I send the message. Sex, I’m good at. Actual sexting? Flirting? Not so much. As I finish my last french fry, he replies with a few well-placedfucksand dirty promises, though, so I must have done all right. Feeling a little lighter than when I sat down, I head to my car. As I’m fishing for my keys, two men emerge from a high-end Italian restaurant across the street. My purse slips from my arm as I watch Lucas—dressed in a suit—shake hands with a man I recognize from the latestSeattle TechWorldissue. They’re too far away for me to hear their conversation, but Lucas's tamed dreads, the leather portfolio tucked under his arm, and the handshake can only mean onething.
As Raymond Hawthorne, Head of Development at TechLock, walks away, I regain a measure of composure and snatch up my purse. “Lucas!” I wish I could run across the street, but at my speed, I’d probably get hit by a car. Though that might be preferable to this nextconversation.
He cringes as he hears me, looks after Hawthorne briefly, then jogs over to me, loosening his tie as he steps onto the sidewalk. “What are youdoinghere?”
“Having lunch. You want to explain what you were doing with Hawthorne?” I brace a hand against my car door andglare.
Lucas's shoulders slump, and he fiddles with the edge of his portfolio. “Don’t tell Royce.Please.”
Despite my anger, I keep my voice low. “I have to. You bailed on me, and we’re already behind schedule at Coana. Al and his crew are going to have to work the weekend, Oversight crashes every time I try to run a systems test, and we’re less than two weeks away from turning her on and running through live drills.” I take a deep breath and swallow hard. “Why didn’t youtellme?”
His entire body deflates, and he retreats a step, almost cringing. “I’m a good programmer. Hell, I’m better than good—I could lead a team.” Lucas shoves the tie into his jacket pocket. “But I’m never going to do that while you’re around. Not that I should—I learned from the best. But I want more than always being in yourshadow.”
