Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Camille
Walking out of Murdoch Family Law, Camille felt like she was walking on air, buoyed by hope. No official offer immediately on the table, but it had gone very well. Everyone she’d met had been friendly, open, and interested in listening to what she had to say.
Not only that, but it was easy to see that they were happy with their jobs in a way people at Donaldson were not.
There were lots of smiles on people’s faces, even the people who looked tense had looked determined, not like they were about to burst into tears.
Emily Murdoch had been confident without being arrogant.
Camille had really liked her, though she put more stock in how satisfied all the ‘worker bees’ around the office appeared to be…
and they all appeared to be in good spirits.
How management treated their employees said much more about a place than how they treated their clients or other management team members.
If she’d needed that reminder, walking back into her current office and feeling the aura of tension, worry, and unhappiness would have done it.
People were not happy here, not just her.
The only people who seemed to be satisfied with themselves were the partners.
There were very few smiles, and all of them disappeared the moment a partner walked down the hall.
Yeah. She needed to get out of here.
She really hoped Murdoch decided they wanted her because that was where she wanted to work. She already knew it. That wouldn’t stop her from going on interviews with other firms, but Murdoch was her top choice if she had any say in it.
As she walked through the hallway, a familiar voice made her spine stiffen, though thankfully, Mr. Alexander wasn’t talking to her.
“I think it’s really going to improve my swing—” His sentence cut off as he came around the corner with Junior, his lip lifting in a sneer the moment he saw her.
Camille met his gaze, staring back at him evenly without flinching.
“Mr. Alexander. Mr. Donaldson.” She kept her voice neutral and slightly warm, giving away none of her real feelings about either of them. It was easier to do than usual after her interview, that little bit of hope keeping her uplifted.
“Camille.” Junior nodded at her. Mr. Alexander didn’t bother to answer, just made an odd noise in his throat as his gaze skittered away from hers, his smirk disappearing when he realized she wasn’t intimidated by him.
They must be on their way to get lunch, then play some golf. At least he wouldn’t be hanging around the office.
Her muscles slowly relaxed again as she went into her office and firmly shut the door behind her.
Taking out her phone, she checked her messages.
As soon as she’d left Murdoch, she’d texted Freddy to let him know she was out of her interview, and it had gone well.
She wanted to see if he’d texted her back.
Of course, he had. She already knew it never took him long to respond unless he was in the middle of something, but she still grinned seeing it. Between him and the interview, she was feeling downright giddy.
Freddy: I’m sure you blew their socks off! They’d be fools not to hire you. You’ve got this.
His belief in her made her feel even better.
Having a cheerleader in her corner, who was not only supportive but also knew her capabilities as a lawyer, was a huge boost to her ego.
She knew he wasn’t just saying it to be nice or out of ignorance.
He knew what he was talking about and still believed in her.
Camille: Thanks! It’s going to be hard to wait another week for my next interview.
Freddy: Maybe I can help make the time pass faster. Do you want to do another museum this weekend before dinner?
Camille: I’ve heard good things about the Spy Museum…
Freddy: YES.
She laughed at his answer, then winced when someone knocked on her door. Thankfully, it was just one of the paralegals with a question, but it was another nail hammering home how badly she needed to get out of there. Who worried about laughing at work?
People who worked at Donaldson, that was who.
It almost made her feel a little guilty about the people she’d be leaving behind, but she couldn’t make the choice to leave for them. They had to make it for themselves, just like she had.
Freddy
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this.” Lexie threw her French fry at him. “How could you not tell me any of this?” There was some real hurt behind her joking, which made Freddy feel terrible.
He looked down at his plate. Part of him wanted to shrug off her question, to not give her a real answer because that was what he was used to doing, but he also knew that was how he kept people at a distance. She would know she was being shrugged off and would respond accordingly.
Worse, he now recognized it, and he’d be doing it on purpose, instead of without realizing it. Which meant he’d be hurting her feelings on purpose.
“It’s come to my attention that I’m not a very good friend,” he started hesitantly.
“Oh, please, you’re an amazing friend. You’re always there for all of us. You have a great listening ear and one of the best shoulders to cry on, and you’re one of the few people who will protect me from Patrick.” Lexie picked up another French fry but didn’t throw this one, opting to eat it.
Freddy had to laugh. As if she needed protection from her hulking husband.
Sure, Master Patrick was the owner of a kink club, and they were in a twenty-four seven total power exchange relationship, but he adored the ground Lexie walked on.
She was a brat for the fun of it and had total trust that her master would never truly harm her.
Though pain could be part of a scene, it would only be in the ways she’d agreed to at the beginning of their relationship and signed a contract for.
A contract that could always be renegotiated if she changed her mind.
“Yes, the many times I’ve had to throw myself to your defense,” he teased, the mood lightening for a moment before he sighed. “But, yes, I’m great at being there for other people. I am not so great at letting other people be there for me. And friendships are a two-way street.”
Opening her mouth, Lexie frowned and closed it again, her bright blue eyes unfocusing as she thought about what he was saying.
With her black hair and startlingly long lashes, her eyes were even more piercing than his own, and that was saying something.
She was a force to be reckoned with, packed into a petite body, which sometimes made her seem like a chihuahua who was trying to play with the big dogs.
The thing about Lexie was that a lot of the time, the big dogs willingly followed her around.
“Okay, I can see that,” she said after a moment. “So, that’s why you didn’t tell me about Mistress Camille.”
“Partly. I’m not really used to talking about myself with people or making myself vulnerable in any way.
If I told you about her, then things didn’t work out, I’d have to tell you about that, too.
” He shrugged, more because he was trying to shrug away his own discomfort with the conversation, as though it wasn’t that big a deal.
“Yeah, I can see the whole ‘not being great at letting other people be there for you,’” she said sympathetically, her foot moving under the table to give him a light kick in the shin.
“But you know that we want to be there for you, right? Everyone you’ve ever helped.
You have a huge group of friends, all you have to do is beckon…
especially since we’ve been trained to mind our own business unless invited in. ”
Freddy snorted.
“Yes, everyone at Stronghold and Marquis are infamous for minding their own business.” The gossip train at the clubs was faster than Superman most days.
“Hey, we might talk, but we don’t interfere without an explicit invitation,” Lexie protested. She grinned. “Olivia would have our asses otherwise… and so would you, and you know it.”
That was true. Freddy occasionally intervened without invitation, but it was very rare.
Mostly he would step in to be someone to talk to, then ask if he could intervene if the person was struggling.
Olivia, on the other hand, would step in on behalf of a submissive if she felt it was merited and urgent, but the Dominants had to specifically ask her for help.
“Okay, good point,” he conceded. “But, yeah, it’s hard to reach out sometimes.”
“So, you’re saying you’d prefer we just shove in when we see you need help?” Her tone was completely innocent.
“No, no, no, absolutely not.” He pointed his fork at her. “Don’t you dare, and don’t you dare spread that around.”
Lexie giggled wickedly.
“As long as you agree to start reaching out more, I won’t have to,” she said archly. “And I expect to be kept up to date on what’s going on with you and Mistress Camille.”
“I can do that. Right now, not a lot. We’re keeping things to the weekends at the moment, but we talk on the phone every night during the week.
” Which was surprisingly easy to do, even though Freddy had never considered himself much of a phone person.
He preferred to text, but talking to Camille was easy.
They’d even had phone sex once during the week.
“Are you planning to do anything for Valentine’s Day?”
The big day was barely a week away, and Freddy was at a bit of a loss.
“She hasn’t said anything about it. I made a reservation at Marquis since those are filling up. She has a lot on her plate right now, so I don’t know if she’s up for planning everything. I figured I’d have that as a backup in case she wants to do something… but I don’t know if she will.”
“Maybe she’s not a Valentine’s Day person.” Lexie shrugged and rolled her eyes. “You know Patrick isn’t, which is why we have the party at Stronghold rather than going out on a date. A fancy date at an overly crowded restaurant is basically his worst nightmare.”