Chapter Eight
There had been a time not so long ago that Cameron had envied people who had careers that allowed them to work from home. After four days of trying it for himself, he didn’t understand how any of them ever got anything done.
He’d tried working in Asher’s office, then in the library. He’d set up his laptop and file folders at the dining room table, the kitchen island, and at one point, he’d ended sprawled out on the sofa in the den. Nothing seemed to be working—which meant he wasn’t, either.
Everything distracted him. When he wanted coffee, instead of simply buzzing for his assistant to bring him a fresh cup, he had to venture into the kitchen to make it himself.
That alone wouldn’t be such a big deal, but it inevitably led to a conversation with one of the security guys.
Once, he’d found a fork, a bowl, and two glasses in the sink and had spent the next forty minutes scrubbing down every stationary surface in the kitchen.
If Asher stuck his head into the office to ask if Cameron wanted something to eat, instead of a quick answer, they’d end up in an hour-long conversation.
Then, it usually took him another twenty minutes to get back on task once Asher left the room.
And that was only if the guy didn’t end up coaxing him back to bed.
The longer it went on, the more stressed he became, until every creak of the rafters or whistle of the wind across the windows drove him insane.
The ticking of the clock in the library set his teeth on edge.
Birds chirping outside the window made his temples throb.
Footsteps in the hallways sounded like a herd of stampeding buffalo, and by the end of day three, he swore he could hear the electricity buzzing from every light in the house.
For years, he’d worked four, ten-hour days at Stone Digital Solutions so that he could enjoy a relaxing three-day weekend. For years, Fridays had been reserved for running errands, straightening his two-bed home on the lake, or catching up on a list of chores that had built up during the week.
Since being with Asher, Fridays were usually spent lounging in bed until mid-morning, trying out some of the fabulous places to eat in Asher’s neighborhood, or cuddled up in the smaller theater room on the second floor with a bowl of popcorn.
This Friday, however, he found himself seated at the desk in his office for the first time in almost five years. Unless he wanted to lose half his client base, he really didn’t have a choice.
“Well, that is unfortunate. I’m sorry you feel that way.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ Good day, Mr. Neiman.” He didn’t wait for a response before dropping the receiver into its cradle to end the call. “Asshole.”
Losing an account was never easy. Losing a long-standing account hurt even more.
Losing the company’s third-largest account because the client had a problem with Cameron’s sexuality was a level of bullshit he hadn’t anticipated.
Fredrick Neiman had even contacted him personally to express how abhorrent he found Cameron’s “lifestyle.”
On the bright side, the old man had a varied and extensive vocabulary, so at least his insults hadn’t been flat or boring.
In fact, Cameron had written a reminder during the conversation to look up the meaning of snollygoster .
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Going by context clues, he probably didn’t want to know.
There was a perfunctory knock on his office door, then Amelia swept in carrying a large, white mug of freshly brewed coffee.
“Thank you,” he said reverently, taking the cup from her and inhaling deeply of the contents. “God, I needed this.”
Amelia’s painted lips twitched at the corners. “I thought you might.”
It was his third cup in two hours, but honestly, there was no such thing as too much caffeine, especially considering the day he was having.
His call from Fredrick Neiman might have been the worst, but it hadn’t been the only one.
While none of the other companies had terminated their accounts, the conversations had all involved a general tone of censure.
A representative from the Valley View Medical Center had subtly expressed her disdain at his choice in partner, but she’d been unconcerned about him being gay in general.
Then, she’d ended the call by saying that as long as Stone Digital Solutions continued to do outstanding work, their account would remain active.
That had probably been the strangest discussion of the morning, but it had also been the easiest.
Other than Fredrick Neiman, one else seemed to have a problem with his sexuality.
At least, no one else mentioned it. The rest of the calls he’d fielded that morning had been from businesses more concerned with his new “celebrity” status than anything else.
Cameron had done his best to convince them that it wouldn’t affect his work or impact their accounts in any way.
Some had sounded mollified, but many still remained reluctant.
“Is everything okay?” Amelia asked.
Cameron sighed as he placed his coffee down on a coaster beside his laptop. “We lost the Neiman account.”
Amelia didn’t react other than a short nod. “I’ll contact them on Monday and begin closing out the account. ”
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” The company would completely fall apart without her, and Cameron’s ego wasn’t too fragile to admit that.
“Yes, but don’t stop. Tell me again.”
Cameron laughed. “You’re amazing.”
“Anything else I should know about?” As she spoke, she adjusted the sleeves of her black, cowl-neck sweater and smoothed down the front of her sleek pencil skirt.
Cameron frowned. “Did you change clothes?” He distinctly remembered her wearing a lilac blouse with ruffled sleeves earlier. “You definitely changed clothes.”
“Just my sweater,” she said defensively. “Why?” Stepping back from his desk, she ran a hand over the thin fabric as she stared down the length of her body. “Does it look bad?”
“No,” he answered at once. He might not be attracted to women, but he wasn’t blind. “You look beautiful.” Growing up with Natalie, he knew that was always a safe thing to say when a woman asked about her appearance.
Amelia beamed back at him, her dark brown eyes alight with excitement. “Thank you.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper, although there was no one else in the office to overhear her. “I have a date.”
His eyebrows drew together, and he opened his mouth to ask if she was leaving early, but he stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the digital clock on the corner of his desk.
How the hell was it already four o’clock in the afternoon?
Amelia only worked a half-day on Fridays, meaning she’d already been there four hours longer than she should have been.
Cameron sighed guiltily. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t realize it was already so late.” He owed her a hell of a lot more than a week’s worth of paid vacation. “Thanks for staying.”
“Of course.” She brushed her dark curls over her shoulder, all business again. “Is there anything you need before I leave?”
“Have we heard back from Braxton and Nash?”
“They sent confirmation Tuesday morning that they had received the proposal,” she informed him. “Otherwise, no, I haven’t heard anything.”
He nodded. “Okay, I should probably give them a call.”
“Would you like me to get someone on the line for you?”
Cameron smiled up at her. “No, that won’t be necessary. Go.” He made shooing motions with his hands. “Have fun. Your date is a lucky man.”
A light flush stained her cheeks, and she thanked him again before hurrying out of the office. Thirty seconds later, his cell phone chimed with an incoming text from her—the phone number for Braxton and Nash. Cameron grinned. It was definitely time to think about giving his assistant a raise .
Knowing there was a good chance the attorneys had already left their offices for the day, he grabbed his desk phone from the receiver and dialed anyway. His call was answered on the second ring, and after sitting on hold for nearly ten minutes, Ethan Nash’s voice finally came over the line.
“Mr. Stone, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not a problem. I was just calling about the proposal my assistant sent over last week.”
“Right, right, of course.” There was something in his tone now, a hesitation that had Cameron sitting up straighter in his chair. “I’m sorry someone wasn’t in touch sooner.”
“Is there a problem with the proposal?”
“Not the proposal,” he answered evasively. There was a quiet sigh, a long, awkward pause, then Ethan cleared his throat before saying, “I’m afraid we’ve decided to go in a different direction.”
~
The cold front that had rushed into the state after Halloween seemed in no hurry to leave.
High temperatures hovered in the low fifties, nowhere near the freezing mark, but still unusual for that time of year.
Fall thunderstorms remained as sporadic as ever, and even though they’d been granted a reprieve from the rain for the next few days, dreary, gray clouds still blanketed the sky.
Asher slouched down in an armchair by the fireplace in the den.
It wasn’t really cold enough to justify the flames, but he’d gotten used to having a fire lit since Cameron had been staying with him.
The guy was always freaking cold. Since that meant having Cameron’s lithe body wrapped around him at night, however, Asher wasn’t too inclined to complain.
Setting aside his glass of red wine—another Cameron influence—he turned his attention to the laptop perched on his bent knees.
It was the third time he’d brought up Talon’s email in the past hour, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
There was no greeting. No signature. Nothing besides a glaring blue link to the new web series on the Sinematic blog.