Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
An entire week passes without Lawson reaching out.
Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about that.
M.I.G. has been in constant contact, most likely trying to assess whether I’m going to slap a sexual harassment lawsuit on their asses. But I do know that they haven’t completely fired Lawson… yet.
Anna texts me daily to say that Lawson is already in his office by the time everyone arrives and doesn’t leave until everyone else has gone home. I don’t know what to do with that knowledge. He’s going to work but hasn’t called me to check how I’m doing.
It validates my mother’s worries—that he isn’t fighting for me. But I can’t help but think maybe it’s more than that. Perhaps he’s dealing with Rhys. Maybe he’s preparing himself and his son for the consequences.
I don’t even know what the consequences will be yet.
M.I.G. doesn’t know Rhys is the one who hacked his father’s email, and I don’t see how they’d find out unless Lawson tells them, which it’s looking more and more every day like he won’t.
I’m beginning to feel like a fool—like maybe I imagined the level of connection Lawson and I had. Yes, we said we love each other, but this isn’t love. This has been traumatic and a total invasion of privacy, and instead of being a beacon in the dark, Lawson’s just left me to deal with it alone.
Well, not totally alone. I have Ben and Jerry—the two most dependable men there are.
Thinking about everything makes my skin heat with irritation. I have to stretch to scratch at the middle of my back, even though it’s just going to spread the hives. The attacks are a daily thing now, triggered by random things I can’t pinpoint and that aren’t food.
A knock interrupts my night of self-pity, echoing throughout my small apartment like an unwelcome guest. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I see it’s nearly eight. Lawson is the only person I can think of who would be coming by unannounced at this time.
My heart skips a beat as I slam The Tonight Dough ice cream pint on the nightstand and shuffle down the hall to answer the door.
It’s not Lawson.
Cornflower blue eyes and the pearly white teeth of Cameron’s charming smile greet me on the other side of the door. “Hello, little Lucy.”
“Cameron? What are you doing here?” Even though he’s seen me completely naked, I pull my robe tighter around my magenta silk nightdress.
We haven’t spoken since the night Lawson and I had with him. He likes my photos on Iconic but never leaves a comment. So, seeing him on the other side of my door is a surprise.
“Wanted to check on you, considering everything that’s going on.” He waves his hand in the air like my leaked sex tape is nothing to write home about. “Gonna invite me in?”
I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing the way his happy-go-lucky countenance takes in every surface of my place like he’s calculating all the ways he can fuck me on them. His Cheshire grin widens, and his gaze darkens as he runs his eyes over my body. Then his face relaxes, and his tone softens.
“Seriously, Lucy. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”
At the tenderness in his voice, my suspicion dissipates. I back up, widening the door and sweeping my arm out. “Come on in.”
He enters my apartment, tucking away a stray hair that’s fallen out of my messy bun as he passes by. It doesn’t make my heart go pitter-patter like when Lawson does it. Even though I find Cameron attractive, it’s just not the same.
“God damn, you are beautiful,” he says. I expect to melt into a puddle, but I don’t.
“I’m still with Lawson,” I tell him flatly, swinging the door shut and returning to my ice cream. “Or, at least, I think I am.”
I shove a spoonful of the softened creamy goodness into my mouth as Cameron shrugs. “He’s out with Jules tonight, which was kind of surprising. He said you two haven’t spoken all week. ”
The cold dessert sits on my tongue as I process what he just said.
Lawson is out with Jules?
He hasn’t bothered to speak to me all week, but he’s out with Jules ?
Cameron’s brows dip together, and his bottom lip rolls inward between his teeth before he says, “Ah shit, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. I’m sorry. I’m not here to cause problems, I swear.”
“Trust me, it’s not you causing them,” I grumble.
My chest hurts, and my sinuses burn with tears. But I’ve cried enough over the last week. And Lawson’s been out having a good time, apparently.
“You look like you could use a meal. Why don’t you go get yourself all dolled up and let me take you to dinner?” Cameron asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his deep charcoal dress slacks.
He’s not wearing a suit jacket, and his white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, the ink on his forearm a stark contrast against the bright material.
Even with the news of Lawson being out with Jules, a sense of betrayal bites at my heart. Lawson would be livid if he found out I went to dinner with Cameron behind his back.
Do you really owe him your loyalty? You don’t know where you stand with the man—if you’re even together.
“I don’t know.” I pick at the frayed end of the robe’s belt.
“Oh, come on, little Lucy,” Cameron entices with a cool, calm, casual demeanor pasted on his handsome features. “It’s just dinner. Everyone’s gotta eat. ”
“I thought you and Lawson were best friends?” In the back of my mind, I think about how I would feel if the situation were reversed… but then I remember that Lawson is out with Jules.
“The best of.” He shrugs. “But if he wants to be stupid and throw away a good thing, that’s on him.
You’re too precious to be sitting here alone, eating ice cream, and feeling sorry for yourself.
Now go to your room.” He jerks his chin toward the hallway.
“Put on something mouthwatering, and let me take you out for a nice meal. It’ll help you get your mind off everything going on right now. ”
His intentions are anything but chivalrous. In fact, he’s looking at me like he wants to peel off my nightdress and fuck me against the wall right now.
I bet he could get creative with the rest of your ice cream.
I point my spoon at him. “Just dinner. Nothing more than that.”
His hands fly in the air in surrender . “Just dinner. Promise.”
Lawson creeps back into my mind while I get dressed and take my mop of hair out of its messy bun, fluffing the wayward strands into sex-kitten waves. I think about sending him a text to ask how dinner with Jules is. I consider letting him know I’m going to dinner with Cameron.
Pettiness settles in my bones as I slip into a sexy emerald dress trimmed in black lace that is meant for a lot more than just dinner .
A sex tape starring me front and center—or from behind, if you want to get real technical—was leaked to an entire office of my colleagues. Revenge porn at its finest served on a silver platter by my ex, and my boyfriend wants to ignore me for a week and take another woman out to dinner?
I’m being irrational.
I slip on a pair of shimmery gold stilettos and walk to my vanity to apply a few coats of mascara and a red lip stain that I know drives Lawson wild.
He isn’t going to see you.
Pushing my boobs up, I secure them before spritzing my perfume over my neck.
You’re getting all dolled up for another man. This is next-level petty and something someone his age would never do.
I’m tempted to take a photo, maybe with Cameron’s arm tattoo in the shot, and post it to Iconic.
Seriously, knock it off, Lucy. You’re better than this.
I blow out a breath as I return to the living room, and a smidgeon of pride flows through me at the way Cameron’s eyes rove my body as he lets out a low whistle. “You definitely understood the assignment. Shall we?”
Taking his offered arm, I ignore his comment and let him lead me out into the cooling night air, even allowing him to help me into his rental.
All the while, the voice in my head screams that this is a bad decision, but I ignore that, too.
Apparently, I’ve been making bad decisions for the last few months. What’s one more?
Cameron makes small talk as he drives us to a restaurant I’ve never heard of, not that far from my apartment. It’s packed, with a line of people waiting outside the gray stone building—various couples clinging to each other beneath the maroon awning.
Cam is a perfect gentleman, opening the door for me and ushering me inside with a gentle palm against the small of my back.
The faintest touch from Lawson would normally set my insides on fire.
But the most Cameron elicits is a slight tingle between my legs when he draws me closer as we wait our turn to be seated.
He whispers against the sensitive spot beneath my ear, “You know, you can always come work for me in New York.”
There’s no time to reply as we step forward, and he gives the hostess his name. I can’t really read him. All his actions say he wants a lot more than just dinner tonight, but I honestly don’t think he’d do that to Lawson, and I wouldn’t either—regardless of what my outfit says.
A sharp screech of a chair on the hardwood floor sounds across the restaurant. As I glance up to see whatever commotion is breaking out, Cameron steals my attention by blocking my view as he ushers me forward. “Our table is ready.”
We follow the hostess through the buttery light cast from dripping crystal chandeliers, twining through black leather booths and golden chairs until we reach our table.
“I mean it,” he says once we’re seated. “I think you’d like the city.”
“I’m not moving to New York, Cameron.” I browse the menu, finally realizing just how hungry I am.
One cannot live on ice cream and tequila alone.
“Well, what are your plans? You know M.I.G. is willing to help you get a job anywhere else. They really don’t want a lawsuit on their hands.”
Cameron doesn’t even bother to look at his menu. His eyes keep darting over my shoulder, but when I start to turn to see what’s caught his attention, he reaches for my hand, drawing my focus back to him as he tangles our fingers together.