“But who is she?”
I smirk and sip my champagne. Let them talk. Everyone will know who she is soon enough.
Eighteen
Jacob
We approach a group of people, several of whom are on my board of directors.
“Gentlemen, this is Camryn Fontaine,” I say, keeping my tone smooth, neutral. I don’t offer a label or an explanation for who she is.
It’s a sea of curious smiles, eyes flickering with surprise, with interest. Richard Langley, a man I’ve known for the past ten years, extends his hand.
“A pleasure, Miss Fontaine. You…must be new? To the Toronto social scene?” I don’t think he means it to come out as a question, but he can’t seem to disguise is curiosity.
Camryn shakes his hand, her smile a little shy but not lacking in warmth. “Not exactly new, no. I did grow up in Toronto. I’ve just never been to something like this before.” She gestures around us with her champagne glass.
“Ah,” says Langley. He’s staring at my girl’s tits. I’ll have to fire him, won’t I? I shift my weight and clear my throat, watching as Langley’s eyes dart back up to Camryn’s face. “Well, you’re awelcome addition.” He shoots me a look that falls just short of contrite.
I contemplate breaking his fingers.
But I don’t. I drink my champagne and introduce Camryn to the others. Once we’ve spent an appropriate amount of time on tedious small talk, we move on to another group of people, this one primarily made up of women who happen to be the wives and girlfriends of many of the men we were just speaking to. The reception we get here is different. The smiles are cold, the interest far more calculating. One of them, a blonde with sharp cheekbones and angular shoulders gives Camryn a once over that drops the air temperature a solid ten degrees.
“Camryn, this is Eleanor Whitmore. She and her husband own half of the commercial real estate in the city.”
Eleanor’s lips curl in what I think is supposed to be a smile, but veers more towards sneer. She doesn’t say hello. Doesn’t offer her hand. She stares at Camryn. “And what do you do?”
Camryn stands up straighter, not flinching away from Eleanor’s icy appraisal. “I’m currently at U of T, doing my MBA.”
Eleanor lets out a high pitched noise that I think is supposed to be a haughty laugh of some kind. “A student. I see. Although I suppose at your age, what else could you possibly be?” Eleanor sips her champagne.
Camryn just tilts her head. “I guess time will tell, won’t it?” she asks sweetly, and I swear my cock thickens at how she’s handling this. I love her confidence. I love that she’s not wilting under the attention. I love that she’s here, on my arm, not taking this rich bitch’s shit.
Eleanor stares icily at Camryn, who just sips her champagne as though she’s thoroughly enjoying this conversation. Then, her lips purse. “What did you say your last name was?” she asks.
“I didn’t. It’s Fontaine.”
Eleanor’s eyebrow arches. She and Sylvie were friends when she and I were married. I wish I’d remembered that tidbit before steering us over here.
“Any relation to a Sylvie Fontaine?” she asks, eyes bouncing back and forth between us. My palms prickle with the threat of sweat.
Camryn’s lips roll inward and I watch all of her earlier confidence drain out of her. “Um, yes. Uh.” She glances over at me, eyes wide, cheeks pale.
“Camryn is Sylvie’s daughter,” I say easily, resting a hand on the small of her back.
Eleanor’s eyes flash and she sits up straighter. “I wouldn’t have expected that of you, Jacob. Very poor taste.” She says each word as though it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted. I can feel the tension radiating off of Camryn as she stands stock still beside me.
“Hardly,” I say, keeping my voice casual, almost disinterested. I want things out in the open, so I have to show Camryn that we can navigate these situations. “Sylvie and I divorced years ago. Camryn came back into my life very recently, and we found we had a connection.”
“I’m sure you did,” she says, eating this up.
“Nice seeing you, Eleanor,” I say, leading Camryn away. But before we can discuss what just happened, I get pulled into a conversation with a potential investor, some tech billionaire from Silicon Valley who wants to pick my brain about expanding into the Canadian market. I keep Camryn close, my hand never leaving the small of her back. But as I humour the tech bro, the crowd shifts, people move, and suddenly she’s a few feet away from me.
I’m not even pretending to listen as I watch three men, all far younger than me, all dressed in expensive suits, stare at my girl with open hunger. One of them says something that pulls a laughfrom Camryn, and I watch the emeralds glint against her skin as she tips her head back slightly. I clench my jaw and nod, making non-committal noises as I pretend to listen.
Off to the side, I see Eleanor holding court, her eyes gleaming as she tells a group of rapt listeners all about how Jacob Brooks is fucking his former stepdaughter. Every once in a while, her eyes cut towards Camryn, then me, then back to the gossip mongers.
The tech billionaire drones on about interest rates, but I don’t hear a word. My focus is on the way the tallest man in the group surrounding Camryn leans in, his hand brushing her arm as he gestures. He pretends it’s accidental, but I know it’s not. Not when his eyes dip to her cleavage immediately after. Cammie’s smile falters and her eyes search me out.
