Page 69 of Chasing Clouds

His eyes widen briefly and then he smirks.

What. The. Hell.

Looking him over, I see he’s wearing his typical uniform of business attire, but he’s got on a black zip-up jacket with a hood pulled up over his head to keep him dry.

“Camille asked me to come here and have you sign these.” He attempts to shove a folder at my chest, but my arms remain by my sides. I don’t want anything from him, nothing at all.

He waves it in front of me, but I keep my eyes locked on him. Rain quickly begins to soak it, and he drops his hand with an exasperated sigh.

“What is it?” I growl at him.

“Divorce papers.” The smirk is back and I narrow my eyes.

“No, she didn’t.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at him like he’s lost his mind. “She didn’t ask you to come here.” Camille wouldn’t have sent these without letting me know . . . right? We texted last night before bed and she never mentioned it, just said she’s been trying to get different affairs in order. I just assumed she was talking about dealing with her father and the logistics of getting Vintage Soul up and running.

“Yes, she did!” he shouts at me.

I glance around the parking lot to see if anyone has noticed us, but they haven’t. Those leaving are sprinting through the rain, oblivious to the fact that I’m about to end this guy once and for all.

“You know, for a smart guy, you’re quite possibly the dumbest person I have ever met.”

His eyes flare, a little wild, a lot crazy. I mean, what’s his angle? Does he think she’s going to go running back to him, because I know for a fact she’s not. No matter what happens between her and me, this guy is out for good.

“You’ve officially pissed me off past the point of no return.” I take a step toward him and he moves back. “If you come near me one more time, or if Camille tells me you’re still sniffing around her, I will have my lawyer file a restraining order, and I’m certain you don’t want that highlighted in your next campaign.”

His face blanches as he takes another step back, and then he tilts his head to the side with his eyes widening like he’s just solved the world’s most complicated puzzle.

“You really have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Look, we’ve all let you bide your time, have your fun with her, but now it’s time to say goodbye. You were a short-lived rebellion on her part, and now it’s over. We know how to handle Camille. We know what’s best for her, and it isn’t you.”

He’s making her sound like a child, like she’s not stable. That’s not the girl I saw, and even if she wasn’t, that’s fine by me. I liked her just as she was. I don’t need her to be anyone else but herself, and there’s nothing we couldn’t deal with together.

“Maybe not.” I shrug my shoulders. “But it damn well isn’t you either. Camille doesn’t need to be handled. She can take care of herself, and this just proves you don’t know her at all.”

His gaze zeroes in on me, and it’s sharp, focused. I don’t like it. I understand that he’s known her for a really long time, and obviously their history together means something, but if they were meant to be, he wouldn’t have cheated, and she wouldn’t have married a stranger.

Thunder rolls over us and the deluge of rain intensifies. This entire scene is ominous, and somewhere close by, lightning cracks. We both flinch at the sound that follows, but neither one of us moves. Slowly, his lips turn up into a menacing sneer, and I brace myself for what he’s about to say. I can tell I’m not going to like it.

“What I know is you’ve been playing house with a murderer.”

Murderer?

What is he talking about?

My silence pleases him as I study his face, my nostrils flare as I breathe in, and that sneer of his turns into a condescending smile.

“What, you didn’t know?” He takes a step closer to me, but I stand my ground, giving nothing away and looking down my nose at him.

“Know what?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“That she killed her sister.”

He says this so plainly, like it’s everyday conversation, I have to replay his words to make sure I heard him correctly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, let me guess—she didn’t tell you. Tsk tsk. Shame on her.” He shakes his head, clearly not really meaning it. “Go ahead, Google Clare Whitley—you’ll see.”

Dropping my bag to the wet ground, I pull my phone from my pocket and search for Clare. Sure enough, headline after headline fills the page: Senator Whitley’s daughter dies a tragic death. Savannah loses a beloved Whitley daughter. Clare Whitley dies. A life taken too soon, too young.