Page 46 of Off the Grid

He makes his way out of the room, and I stand, ready to follow, thinking it’s probably better if I leave things with Camilla as is.

The last thing I need is the confusion I felt earlier in the break room to return. Over the need to defend my bullshit friends and our game at the bar. Over giving the justification she demanded knowing why she isn’t my type.

Both I felt uncomfortable giving.

It’s one thing with a little liquid courage under your belt. It’s another when you’re standing face-to-face with a woman, and you see the tears welling in her eyes from the words you just hurt her with.

I didn’t exactly like that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach I had seeing her again. Even worse was how it twisted when she stood there with a stern expression but devastated eyes.

Wall up.

Defense mode enacted.

Complications averted at any cost.

Now’s not the time to have a heart. Now’s the time to buckle down and be selfish. To think only about me and the road it’s taken to get here.

And to remember I tried to fucking pay off a Moretti.

Jesus Christ.

“A minute please.” She’s not asking me. She’s telling me. Fucking perfect.

“Sure. What can I do for you?” I turn to face her, my smile over the top.

She glares at me with her arms crossed over her chest and a sour look on her face. “Funny how that worked out, isn’t it? And I didn’t even need a dare card to do it.”

She wants to lock horns. All is not forgotten as I’d hoped.

“Hi, Camilla. Nice to finally meet the real you.” I’m going the kill her with kindness route.

My hunch is it’ll irritate her more than anything. She can’t be mad at someone being accommodating and over the top, now, can she?

Besides, what driver in their right mind would purposely pick a fight with the boss’s daughter? Not me. Not after all the work to get the chance to be here. And I’ve already started off on shaky fucking ground with Wills and his damn dare cards.

If she wants to play the bitch role, she can. Her last name affords her that. Mine on the other hand, does not.

She scowls at me.

The smile I offer in return is brighter than the sun. “So would you look at that? Huh. We’re part of the same team. Teammates. Coworkers. Two people who work together.”

Her expression is stoic as she stands across the room studying me.

“The silent treatment it is then. So should I talk for the both of us?” I ask. “Where should we start? How about with, you didn’t tell me who you were,” I say.

“Same could be said for you.” She shrugs.

“There wasn’t much room for talking when you were kissing me.” How are you going to handle that one, Moretti?

A widening of her eyes. The setting of her jaw. “We’re here to talk about marketing. You. The company. That kind of thing.”

“Oh. I thought you were telling me to stay behind. That you shut the door so we could have some privacy and talk about us.” I smile and lean against the windowsill, mirroring her posture.

She doesn’t like it so she shifts.

I do the same.

The scowl she gives me is sexy. So damn sexy. “There is no us, Riggs.”