Page 98 of Off the Grid

“Camilla. Our sweet Camilla.” Gia smiles softly. “There hasn’t been a guy since I’ve known you who has made you get the look you have on your face right now. Even guys who you’ve had lasting relationships with haven’t put the fire in your eyes.”

“But—”

“The guy left his own party because you didn’t want to be there. He slept on your couch. He does social media advice columns about you. Um, hello? He’s into you.”

Isabella’s comment sticks in my mind as I walk into the office—yes, with my heels still on.

Gia and Isabella made sure of it when they took my purchases and my Jordans with them when they dropped me off.

They know me well enough that I’d have changed out of them immediately.

I enter my office and pull up to a stop when I see my dad sitting in one of the chairs opposite my desk.

“Dad.” It’s a startled word. “What are you doing here?”

He grins. “I do kind of own the place.”

“Funny.” Did he find out about the kiss? Did someone record it and post it on social media? Are rumors flying about the conference room when Heather walked in? “I mean, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask in my sweetest voice possible.

He chuckles. “I saw the girls drop you off, so I figured I’d meet you down here rather than have Halle call you up.”

I move around my desk and take a seat facing him. There are no visible tremors today. In fact, there have been very few that I’ve seen lately.

I know the lack of them doesn’t mean his diagnosis has changed. I’m not that naïve. But it is a good sign that having family around and less stress is a good thing for him.

“You look good. Like really good.”

“I feel good.” He nods and looks out my open door to make sure that Elise isn’t still there before continuing. “That change they made to my meds has helped a lot. In a month it might be different, but for now, I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

I nod and chuckle nervously. “So . . . what’s wrong?”

“Why? Do I have reason to be worried about something?”

“No, but I’ve been here almost three months, and this is the first time you’ve been in my office, waiting for me with that cryptic look on your face.”

“You always were the worrier.” He laughs. “Nothing is wrong, Cam. In fact, everything is good. Both cars have finished in the points four out of the last five races. We got a podium. I watched a driver become a team player with that race. The public is loving the duo of Andrew and Riggs. Maxim’s making strides to return. He’s slowly increasing his mobility. Oh, and merchandise sales have skyrocketed with that whole A-I-T-A thing you’re doing.”

I bark out a laugh at the way he spells out AITA, like it’s a foreign language. “Dad, do you have any idea what AITA means?”

His blank stare tells me he hasn’t made the correlation between the posts and the acronym.

“Um, Andrew is the Animal?” He scrunches his nose up. Even he knows that sounds ridiculous.

“No. Definitely not that.” I glance out the window of my office where Elise has since returned and see her snickering. “It means Am I the Asshole. That’s why Riggs says it with every post.”

“Oooohhhh.” He shakes his head. “Your generation and your YOLOs and FOMOs and FMLs or my personal favorite, WTF.”

I’m afraid to ask if he knows what that stands for. “You sound so old.”

“I am old.” He pauses and smiles. “I just wanted to come down here and tell you that you and your team are doing an excellent job. It’s unusual for profits to reflect marketing changes in such a short amount of time and yet it’s trending in the right direction.”

“Thank you.” I can barely get the words out, my throat is so tight. “That means . . .” Everything.

“It’s me who should do the thanking.” He purses his lips. “You’ve kept pretty tight-lipped on your opinion about Riggs, other than your initial criticism. He has five races under his belt now with Moretti. Have your thoughts changed any?”

Am I walking into a trap?

Am I the asshole for wanting to kiss her right now? For wanting to prove to her that I’m good at it?