Chapter Ten
A t 8:00 A.M., I went searching for Cameron to see if he wanted to have breakfast.
I heard him on the phone behind his office door. Not wanting to disturb him, I headed off.
Their kitchen was the dreamy space I’d always wanted for myself—super sleek, ultra-functional, and full of high-end vibes. His minimalist cabinets had no handles, and the quartz countertops were stunning. The chic appliances were voice activated—which made me laugh each time I argued with one of them.
What stood out to me was the chessboard on the central island, hinting that, even when he was relaxing, his brain was firing on all cylinders.
I’d always been proud of my independence, but staying here for a few weeks was the practical thing to do. It would be fun searching for a new home, but when I moved out, I would miss Cameron’s company. There was always a bright side to living alone, I told myself. I’d be able to live without my family scrutinizing my every move.
And, yesterday, I’d landed the job of my dreams.
Only…
It was moments like this when I felt the urge to call Hugo to share my joy.
But I couldn’t.
Not anymore.
And that hurt way more than I expected.
I was giving him his own treatment—when he’d controlled me with his silence. Anyway, I knew what he’d say to ruin the moment. That my family name had gotten me the job. That I was privileged and did not understand how to make it on my own. That I was a “nepo baby.”
Just as Jewel Hadley had hinted at yesterday during my interview.
Hugo’s words had cut deep, stripping away the pride I’d felt in my achievements, no matter how hard I’d earned them on my own.
“Here you are,” said Cameron, joining me in the kitchen.
“You were in your office. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“It would be a happy disturbance.”
“I was going to make breakfast.”
“I’m up for that.”
“What do you have in the pantry?”
“Pretty much everything.” He gestured to the cupboard. “And now you can tell me all about yesterday. I want to hear about your interview.”
“We can celebrate with muffins.”
That made him smile. “Tell me the company’s name again?” Something about the way he said it made me nervous.
“They want me to sign an NDA.”
Cameron paused by the coffee maker as though considering my words and then flicked the ON button. The scent of fresh beans emanated as dark liquid sputtered into the carafe.
I approached the central counter. “You play chess in here?”
“When Mia’s away, I have breakfast in here.”
“Who do you play chess with?”
“An opponent online.” He tapped his phone. “It’s an app. Guy’s in Russia.”
I sensed he needed the distraction while eating breakfast to take his mind off Mia being gone.
“You miss her?”
He gave a nod, smiling.
“Wait, were you meant to go away with her?”
“I’m needed here.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him. Cameron wouldn’t want me to feel like a burden, I knew that.
His expression turned pained. “We need to talk about your trip downtown.”
“Did your security tell you who my interview was with?”
He paused as though mulling over how to answer. “I wanted to hear it from you.”
“The news network Pulse360.”
He pursed his lips, lost in thought, his expression betraying a hint of concern.
It was a popular station and getting a job there was impressive, but he didn’t look impressed.
“Willa, are you saying they offered you the job?”
“I knocked it out of the park.”
“As a junior journalist?” He blinked at me. “Don’t sign anything.”
“Why don’t you say congratulations?”
He stared at me for the longest time, uncomfortably long, and then said, “Did you talk with Jewel Hadley?”
“How did you know that?” I brightened. “You know her?”
He let out a sigh. “Let’s talk over breakfast.”
“Cam, this is my dream job. The one I studied for.”
“I respect that.”
“I’m not discussing it.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Willa.”
“You know something about the company?”
“Yes.”
“Is it bad?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How bad, on a scale of—”
“It’s a moot point. I’m sorry, Willa, but you’re not going back there.”
I replayed his words to make sure I’d heard him right. “Do you have any idea how hard this year has been for me? And it’s only April. My life imploded back in New York. This is the only thing keeping me going.”
“How did they reach out to you?”
“They headhunted me.” I gave him a look of satisfaction that yes, I, too, could attract the best.
“Explain.”
“They reached out to my professor.”
“They asked for you by name?”
“I wrote a paper for Brown. It was published online. I’m guessing it was that article that impressed Pulse360.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I thought that’s how things usually work.”
“Not necessarily.” He looked worried.
“Why would that be a problem?”
“I thought you were happy in New York?” He looked at me with compassion. “There are great news stations there.”
“Hugo made it impossible for me to stay.”
Cameron read my expression. “He cheated on you ?”
I swallowed hard, that familiar ache burning in my chest.
“On you? The most amazing human on the planet.”
I reached for two mugs and brought them over to the coffee pot. “I think she was a blonde.”
“For fuck’s sake.” His voice shook with fury, unusual for him.
“Please don’t get involved, Cam.”
“Is he still living in your home?”
“Our home.”
“It’s your home.”
“Right, but he needs time to find another place.” I reached for his arm. “I’m handling this.”
“Why didn’t you kick him out?”
“He was…emotional.”
“I bet he was.” Cameron shook his head. “How did you discover him cheating?”
“There’s this woman he follows on social media. I checked her page. You know, I was just curious who he was following. She would be at the same location as him, at the same time. It happened repeatedly.”
“Leaving clues?”
“You think he wanted to get caught?”
“I think she wanted him to get caught.” Cameron poured coffee into two mugs. “Grab the half and half.”
I opened the fridge and grabbed the cream, pouring a splash into each mug. The dark drinks swirled and lightened, turning a soft, milky hue.
I wrapped my hands around the mug. “On his Insta, there’s a woman’s reflection in a photo of him. She took it. It was her.”
“Did you confront him with the evidence?”
I lowered my eyes. “Yes. We argued over it. It was awful. He denies the affair.”
“Take a snapshot of that photo. Not that you need it now.”
“I did.”
“It’s good you found out about it now before you invested years of your life to that man.”
“I know.” It still hurt like hell, and I wanted to just get the pain to stop or somehow find a way to not think of him so much. It was like my brain kept offering up happy memories, telling me that I’d never find someone like him ever again.
“It gets easier,” he said, reading my mind. Or perhaps my expression had told him everything he needed to know about how much I was hurting.
“Why do men do this?”
Cameron shrugged like the answer was obvious. “Their own insecurities lead them to need validation from external sources. They’re desperate to have that hole in themselves filled. It has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with your worth. The right person would never risk losing you.”
My stomach grumbled; couldn’t recall the last time I’d eaten.
He pointed an accusatory finger at me. “Nurture yourself now. All focus on you.” Cameron reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone. He read the screen and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Willa, something’s come up. We’re about to have guests. Let’s have lunch together. We’ll talk more then.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You need to process your break-up. I can help you find a way to heal.”
“Actually, I don’t like to think about it.”
“You need to talk with someone. If not me, perhaps Mom?”
I scoffed. “As if.”
“Aunt Rose, then. You know she adores you.”
“She’s on a cruise, Cameron.”
“I’ll fly you out.”
“I just got a job!”
He cringed. “Put in a call to her.”
“I’m not ruining her vacation.”
“Aunt Rose is on permanent vacation.”
“You went through something similar with Mackenzie,” I said. “The woman you were engaged to.”
“I wasn’t doing well,” he admitted. “Henry was in the Middle East, and I was vulnerable. I was doing everything I could to free him.”
In the end, Cameron had flown out there, been part of the medivac.
I wanted to comfort him. “And then you and Mia fell in love.”
He gave me a look that reflected it was a happy memory. “Alchemize the pain. That’s the only way.”
“How?”
“Through art, or music, or a job you love. Find a person who deserves you. Someone who gets you and wants the best for you. Someone to get in the foxhole with, who will protect you.”
“Don’t need protecting.”
“One day you will. And it’s your person who will place themselves in a position to stop the harm from reaching you.”
“So romantic,” I said.
“Romance isn’t in the grand gestures—it’s in the quiet moments when someone chooses you, over and over.”
“Maybe it was partly my fault.”
He shook his head vehemently. “You have this remarkable gift of putting others first, often to the point where you lose sight of your own needs. That tendency, while admirable, can make you susceptible to narcissists. They gravitate toward echoists. You may be unwittingly creating a space for that dynamic.”
I stared at him. “What the fuck, Cam?”
“We’ll explore this further.”
“No, we won’t.”
“I only met Hugo once, and I did have some concerns.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I tactfully expressed that he was a taker.”
Thinking back to that day, when he and Mia had visited my home in New York, I recalled Cameron saying something like that, but I was so in love with Hugo, and being everything to him had felt so good.
My brother was right, though. Hugo only gave when it benefited his self-image or fulfilled his own needs. He was selfish and painfully cruel at times.
I deserved his accusation of being spoiled throughout my life. The truth stung more than his accusation—because I believed it.
If I could just prove I can make a difference in this world…
“Look, you idealized him,” he said. “You lived an alternative reality called a shared reality space. It wasn’t real.”
I pressed my hand to my chest, desperately trying to hold back the inevitable anguish. It was as if a part of me couldn’t face the reality that our relationship was ending. Because once I acknowledged it, the floodgates of pain would open, drowning me.
“It’s challenging to date a Cole, Willa.”
“But I’m just me.”
Cameron looked sympathetic. “I love you, and I’m here for you.”
The doorbell rang and Cameron shook his head, preemptively annoyed. He headed for the kitchen door and exited with his mug in hand.
I walked into the pantry, ready to bake something delicious, checking out the assortment of packets on the top shelf. One of them was protein-packed muffins and they seemed like the best choice.
With the packet in hand, I withdrew from the pantry.
And jolted still.
Greyson stood in our kitchen. He was halfway through brewing another batch, scooping ground coffee into the machine with a practiced motion. Three more mugs sat lined up on the counter.
With his back to me, I couldn’t help but take a few seconds to admire his stunning physique. It was impossible not to notice how good he looked in those jeans. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing toned forearms that only added to the appeal.
I’d been secretly observing him for too long. “Hello, again.”
He froze and then turned around. His face lit up with joy and then he frowned all too quickly. Like he was pleased to see me and then changed his mind in a split second.
I raised the packet. “I’m going to make these. You can have one if you want.”
He reacted with a subdued annoyance.
Which annoyed me, too. “What happened to my brother’s car?”
“It’s parked out front.”
“But you lost it?”
“There are seven billion people in the world, and yet here you are, right in front of me, defying the odds.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re impossibly…” His mouth formed the word pretty. “You look like your brother.”
“Didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I’m not here by choice.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked. “Are you a client?”
Greyson stepped forward, confident, magnetic, and annoyingly self-assured. “No, though we do talk at length, sometimes. Your brother is very insightful.”
“How do you know him?”
“We’re old friends.”
“Where did you meet?” I went coy. “At one of those clubs?”
The place I wasn’t meant to know about. But because I had the coolest aunt on the planet, I’d been let in on that family secret.
The thought that this guy was into kinky stuff caused a shudder to ripple through me.
“Ask your brother.” His voice sounded silky, and his piercing brown eyes were focused on mine.
Refusing to act flustered, I said, “I will.”
His smirk was infuriatingly sexy. “Good luck with that.”
“My brother is protective of you. Why?”
“He respects my privacy. That’s nice to hear.” He leaned in, the scent of his cologne intoxicating. “He probably won’t want us talking. We should respect that.”
“Why?”
“I should get back to his office.”
“For what?”
“Our meeting.”
“Who else is here?”
He rolled his eyes in frustration. “Atticus. And a lawyer.”
“You didn’t do something naughty, did you?” I arched a brow.
He looked away and then swallowed. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Irritating.”
I slammed the packet on the central island.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said. “I came in here to…be alone for a second. Gather my thoughts.”
“Why?”
“Mainly to grab some caffeine to go with my Advil.”
“You have a headache?”
He looked sad again. “Something happened.”
“Want to talk about it?” I said softly.
“No, thank you.” He hesitated. “Tell me something about you.”
“I was offered a job yesterday.”
“At Cole Tower?”
“Pulse360. When you saw me yesterday, I was heading out for the interview.”
Greyson glared at me, his brow taut and his eyes filled with concern.
I ignored his reaction. “I start today.”
He glanced toward the door. “Does your brother know?”
“Yes.”
“How did he react?”
“Like you, actually.”
That seemed to placate him. “Aren’t there other news stations that might be a better fit?”
I frowned at him. “What’s going on over there that I need to know about?”
“Nothing good.”
I suppressed my frustration. “Can I help you make the coffee?”
He frowned as he realized he’d forgotten to turn on the coffee maker. Annoyed, he flipped on the switch and then leaned back against the counter.
“I can bring your drinks into the office if you like.”
Greyson shot me a look. “Isn’t that above you?”
God, he was impossible to ignore, and ridiculously cute in an artsy, effortlessly charming way.
“I’m sorry.” He went to move away. “I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“I’m just trying to figure you out.” I leaned in a bit, squinting like I was solving a puzzle. “Are you a narcissist or just into yourself?”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Greyson flinched. “Don’t think I’m a narc. Why?”
“According to my brother, I’m an echoist and deeply attracted to narcs.”
He stood up straighter, realizing I’d just admitted that I found him attractive. His brows lifted as his eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and delight.
“Not that I find you in any way attractive,” I blurted out, embarrassed by my confession.
His lips curled into a smile.
I stepped back. “Don’t twist my words.”
He rested his hands on the counter, fingers elegant, his strong forearms flexing just enough to catch my attention. “I’m not in the mood to play roulette with my friend’s sister.”
“Roulette?”
“Roulette can be thrilling, but I prefer games where I never lose.”
“What kind of games?” I jested. “ Those kinds of games?”
He bit his lip. “Being with me isn’t a game—it’s an experience. One where control, desire, and pleasure collide. You’re far too young to understand what that means.”
My cheeks burned. “What do you do for a living?”
“Let’s not do this.”
My heartbeat ticked up at an alarming rate. “Do what?”
His gaze flicked to my lips, lingering too long. “Interact.”
I moved closer to him but then slid toward the chessboard and focused on it. “Do you…play?”
“Are we talking about chess?”
The board sat between us like a map of possibilities. I picked up a piece and showed it to him and then said, “The knight is the only piece that can jump over the others on the board, symbolizing the cavalry’s ability to bypass obstacles.”
He gave a nod. “The movement mirrors the strategy of outflanking opponents.”
“You do play.”
He glanced at the coffee maker with an impatient expression.
I lifted the queen and set her down again in the same place. “Where did you say you lived again?”
“I didn’t.” He sounded amused, and then said, “The Hollywood Hills.”
I dragged my gaze away from his lips and settled on the opponent’s king that was trapped in the center, its pieces coordinated in defensive positions. I slid the queen over a square, leaving her vulnerable.
Offering her.
Hoping he couldn’t resist her.
Intrigued, Greyson tilted his head, proving he was seduced by the guile of the position I’d changed her to. He reached out and captured my queen, wearing a cute smirk as his eyes lit up.
We moved the pieces, one and then another, in silence, our eyes rising to challenge each other with a stark arousal that couldn’t be denied. Each move a silent conversation. My knight ventured forward, not to conquer but to explore, and his bishop slid across the board offering itself up. We weren’t just playing; we were discovering more in these still moments about each other.
My urge to learn more about him felt like a calculated risk. I couldn’t say why it felt that way—perhaps it was because he was a good friend of my brother’s and was older than me.
Greyson moved his king to win the game. His grin of triumph was a thing to behold, a dimple showing in his left cheek.
“Why are you here again?” I asked softly.
“Why do you want to know?” he whispered back.
“In polite society people share these things. Unless you have something to hide.”
He shuddered with uneasiness.
I took a moment to admire the man with one of the most ridiculously captivating faces I’d ever laid eyes on.
He noticed me staring. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“Hugo and I are no longer together.”
He quirked a curious brow. “The narcissist?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes, things fall apart because they’re never meant to fit.”
I looked away. “I thought he was the one,” I said, my voice trembling.
“His punishment is losing you, Willa.”
I was surprised at his effort to comfort me. “He broke my heart.”
“Sometimes things don’t work out because they’re not meant to. Hugo’s the one who lost someone special.”
“You don’t know me.”
“You’re Cameron’s sister,” he said, as though that made me special.
I met his gaze. “I want to be known for who I am, not for whose sister I happen to be.”
His expression softened. “Now and again, life takes a swipe at us. It’s your friends who’ll get you through.”
“Can we be friends?”
He gave me a look of quiet regret. The answer was written all over his face— no. Probably because my brother had given him a warning.
He reached out and slid a piece across the board to distract me. I turned my attention back to the chessboard, and then I unleashed a series of moves to exploit the weakened position of his king while his guard was down.
Greyson may have captured the queen but my willingness to sacrifice her was a strategy.
He studied the pieces, replaying my moves. “Impressive.”
“You, too.”
That made him smile, and then he turned serious. “You can either move through the world with bitterness or have a forgiving heart.” A surge of tumultuous emotions danced in his eyes.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked. “Boyfriend?”
At first, he reacted with amusement, and then his expression turned pained.
I cringed at how insensitive my remark sounded. “Maybe you could tell me some fun places to visit?”
Cameron’s sudden presence in the kitchen doorway had us both turning to look at him.
“Greyson,” he said, “where’s the coffee? You know Atticus needs a gallon of the stuff in the morning.”
Greyson gave him a knowing look. “Your sister got hired at Pulse360.”
I stared at him, noting the way he’d said it and that look of concern he gave Cameron.
“I am aware.” Cameron’s eyes scanned the chessboard as though looking for answers, as though he could somehow replay every single move between Greyson and me, but in reverse.
Then he came closer and gently took my arm. “Come on.” His insistent grip pulled me toward the kitchen door.
“I’m making muffins,” I said.
“I’ll order in. We all need breakfast.”
He meant his intriguing guests, and the reason for their visit was compelling.
I had always been this way, driven by a need to understand what was happening around me, how things worked, how everything fit together. It was much like my brother, who had a knack for mastering minds. Maybe he’d be open to revealing more about my hot new friend.
Glancing back, I saw that Greyson’s eyes were filled with sadness. I shot him a look, the unspoken promise that we’d talk again soon, explore his feelings. I needed to know more about Cameron’s mysterious guest.
But as we left, Greyson was dragging his fingers through his dark hair, his expression one of excruciating pain—as if he’d been holding in some quiet agony that he’d wanted to keep hidden from me.
“We were just playing chess,” I told Cameron.
He didn’t reply while he studied me, his eyes sharp and dark and knowing. He saw through me; saw through whatever flirtatious game I’d been playing in there. In the silence, I felt the truth between us—Cameron knew me better than I knew myself.
And that danger he’d mentioned with Greyson felt all too real, because the man seemed to have a thousand sides to him, each one more unpredictable than the last.