8. Gianna
Sighing,I smooth my skirt down and, not for the first time, wish I had added some more buffer time between my travel and this meeting.
Yeah, but you were procrastinating your return to Ever Lake, weren’t you?
I changed the flight Cam booked for me no less than twice and considered doing it a third time, but decided against it after I realized how ridiculous I was being.
Grumbling to myself, I teeter the few short steps to my rental car in heels that I only save for important business meetings. I wore them the last time I was in town, and I’ve been dreading having to wear them again.
After this particular meeting, the Wrights are getting me in flats only. There’s no need for me to risk breaking my neck when I’m just the numbers girl. Frankly, there’s never a need to.
But it’s “professional,” so here we are.
“Gia?”
I almost stumble over a crack in the sidewalk, but stretch out an arm and catch myself with one hand pressed to the car. I glance around, trying to spot the person who said my name. Cam’s already at the lodge waiting for me, and I don’t know anyone else—
Oh, shit.
My eyes land on Henry, who is walking my way, looking like a wet dream. He’s dressed in a pair of incredibly well-fitting pair of jeans and a gray Henley that hugs his chest in a way that makes me jealous.
Jealous of a shirt. Christ, get it together, Gia.
Why does he have to look so good? And why is he the first person in this town that I see?
The smile on his face makes it clear that he’s happy to see me, and I can’t help but think I look like a deer in the headlights, so I do my best to wipe my face clear.
I manage as well as I can expect, but I can’t help but smile as he gets closer. It seems to be inevitable when I’m around him.
And he probably uses that smile on all kinds of girls. You’re not special.
That intrusive thought is the bitch slap that I need to chill out. To ignore the fact that Simone has been trying to talk me into arranging a convenient long-term situation with Henry while I’m in town. As if.
“Hi, Henry.” I finally greet him when he reaches me. In my heels, he’s not so much taller than me, so I don’t have to crane my neck to look at him. There’s no time to shift away or move before he swoops in and gathers me into a hug that nearly crushes me.
His arms slip around my waist, and my arms naturally circle his shoulders. In the next second, he lifts me off of the sidewalk so I’m suspended in the air. I breathe in his scent, the hint of spice pleasuring my senses in a way I don’t understand. The hug seems to go on forever with his body pressed tight against my own, and yet it ends faster than I’d like.
Not that I should be hugging him anyway.
The moment my heels touch the ground again, I take a careful step back to try to collect myself. Of course, whatever mind-altering cologne he uses still completely engulfs me despite the fresh air fighting to fill my lungs.
It smells like sin and everything I shouldn’t want.
“What’re you doing back here?”
My heart stutters in my chest, and I try to answer more than once before the words actually leave my mouth. “Back for work, actually. I’ll be here for a bit of a longer stint than last time.” I leave out the fact that it’s going to be at least a month, if not longer, depending on how things go.
“That’s awesome. You look amazing, by the way.” He openly checks me out before bringing those hazel eyes right back to mine. The same eyes I’ve been contending with in my dreams.
I press my thighs together, trying not to dwell on those thoughts.
“Thank you.” I dip my eyes down to my black pumps and try really hard not to bask in the compliment. “I’ve actually got to run to a meeting, but it was really nice seeing you.”
“No worries, I have an appointment too. But I’ll see you around? Are you staying at the BB again?”
I almost lie and say I’m not just so he won’t know where to find me, but then I reel myself in. It’s not like he’s going to want a repeat of that night a couple of months ago. Why would he? I’m just some girl from out of town, nothing special.
The thought snags on something sharp in my chest, and I can’t help but wonder when I started thinking that about myself. It feels like it’s been an always thing, but part of me, deep down, knows that it started when the men I chose to date said it. And I’m still holding on to all of that, even though I should know better.
Either way, it was clear that he’s a one and done kind of guy, and just because I’m back in town, that doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.
Frankly, it’s better if it doesn’t.
“I am, yeah. I’ll see you around.” Without another word, I give him an awkward little wave and walk around to get into my rental car.
Before I even can get the door closed, I hear him laughing and glance across the street in time to see him walk into The Well. The bar where we met.
Shaking my head, I close the door and buckle up. I make the drive up to the lodge and try my hardest to keep the memory of my night with Henry pushed all the way down into the deepest, darkest, most remote part of my mind.
It doesn’t work. Seeing him has completely thrown me off my game. It’s not even the sex that keeps popping into my head. Although I may never experience sex that good again.
The conversation we had after? The way he held me even as we slept? How easy things were the following morning?
It was really nice. And I hate that it was the first time I felt like that with a man I slept with. And I’m not willing to concede that maybe I’ve been with the wrong men all my life.
Because I haven’t. I date men who make sense. I date men who complement the life I’ve built, the life I’m still building.
I definitely don’t date men younger than me who work for themselves and live in small towns.
Who’s talking about dating Henry? Hm? No one’s dating Henry.
Pulling into a parking spot, I take a few deep breaths and lock all of that behind my wall of professionalism.
Cam’s waiting on the porch for me, wearing one of his signature three-piece suits, and just seeing him helps me flip my brain to where it needs to be. I get out of my car and walk over to him. When I make it to the stairs, I give them a dirty look before climbing them carefully while clinging to the railing.
Cam holds a hand out to help me, and I take it happily.
“You know they’re not going to care what you wear on your feet. Why do you continue torturing yourself with those?” He eyes my shoes like they might bite him and moves to open the door.
I take a closer look at him. He’s got on one of his favorite suits, blue with a silvery pinstripe that almost blends into the blue. Brown shoes and his leather satchel-like bag. His dark hair is cropped close, almost in a buzz cut. His bright green eyes shine with mirth when his lips kick up in a smirk. His normally pale skin is slightly tanned, and I wonder how he spent the last few months. It’s unlikely he was down in Florida with his family, but maybe he went on a tropical vacation or something.
Nah, that’s unlikely.
He’s always bopping around the country, working on whatever he does when we’re not working together. Cam’s never really explained what he does for a living, but I know he’s made of money. If he wasn’t, we wouldn”t be able to take on these projects. He all but bankrolls anything that we do when we work with businesses in need. Then, when things eventually turn around and they start profiting again, he starts to actually get paid. Not before. It’s a completely selfless endeavor, and I’m happy that we crossed paths and I get to be part of it.
As a freelancer myself, I’m glad I can count on him calling me a couple of times a year to work with him. And I’m glad that whatever he does on his own time pays well enough that I still get a paycheck while we’re on a project.
“It’s just the initial meeting. I’ll go more casual moving forward. I’m just trying to be professional.”
“You need those to be professional?” Skepticism laces his words, and I make a point of giving him a long look.
“Do you need a three-piece suit to be professional?” It’s not the first time I’ve given him a hard time about his wardrobe.
He looks great, don’t get me wrong, but that man is always dressed like this. I’ll never admit it, but I dress up because he does. I’d secretly love it if he would dress down occasionally because I’d like to throw on some jeans every once in a while. I don’t think I’ve seen him without a suit jacket once in our entire working relationship. I may never get him to admit it, but I’m pretty sure that watching Peaky Blinders when it first aired impacted him more than it should have.
“Point taken, Gia. Let’s go talk to Gina and Marc.”
“Were you as surprised as I was when you got the call from them?” I ask quietly as we step into the lodge.
“I was, but they both came around and want to fight for their business, their home.”
Watching a rare small smile curve his lips, I can’t help but feel eager. “Well, if they wanna fight for it, we’ll fight.”
A familiar excitement buzzes through my body. It’s always the same at the beginning of these assignments. Projects. Whatever you want to call them. Cam is the brains and the backbone, and I crunch the numbers to make sure we can actually follow through on all of his ideas. He always finds clients who seem to be desperate for some magic cure for their business woes. Often, it’s a family business. Sometimes it seems like there’s no answer, no way to help revive their coffee shop or boutique or whatever it is.
But we always pull through, and between our skills and the openness of the people who want to work with us, we’ve always succeeded.
There’s an energy before we deep dive into the challenge ahead of us that’s unmatched. I just hope that the Wrights will be as excited as we are.
Once we’re inside, we’re met by Gina Wright and the overwhelming scent of baked goods. We’re also met with silence. Which, for an establishment like The Wright Lodge, is bad news.
These kinds of businesses thrive off of people, and when there aren’t any people…the businesses don’t thrive.
Gina stands just in front of the check-in desk, decked out in an adorable frilly apron covered in croissants. She’s a shorter woman, thin but clearly strong. Her silvery gray hair is cropped shorter than it was the last time we saw her, settling just above her shoulders, and the subtle bags under her eyes clue me in to how things have been going.
Of course, the surprise on her face at our arrival isn’t exactly what we’re hoping to see either.
“What are you? I thought—Cameron, Gianna, I thought our meeting was tomorrow.” Gina rushes over, a flush coloring her pale skin, looking furtively around. For what? I’m not sure. It seems like we’re the only ones here.
“Oh.” Cam pulls his phone out of his pocket, and I watch as he scrolls through his calendar to confirm our appointment. “Maybe there were some crossed wires. I have today’s meeting confirmed.” He smiles at her patiently, taking in her frazzled state.
Internally, I’m hoping we have to reschedule. Honestly, I could use a nap after my day of travel. On the other hand, I’d hate to have to put these heels on for nothing.
“I hate to ask, but is there any way to do this tomorrow?” Her hands flutter at her sides, and she gives us a tense smile. “We must have gotten the days mixed up. I’m so sorry.”
Darting my eyes to Cam, I see him attempt to take a calming breath. I’m sure Gina doesn’t see the slight irritation that I pick up on. The tension around his eyes and the slight tic in his jaw. Cam is the kindest guy I know, but he’s a stickler for schedules and keeping things moving on track.
“No worries at all. We’ll go get settled and be back tomorrow. Same time?” He lets out a small sigh and keeps his finger poised over his phone, ready to adjust his calendar.
“Same time. I’m so sorry again. I know you two traveled a long way. You’re all set at the bed and breakfast?” Her expression takes on a genuine motherly concern, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
“We’re great. Everything’s great at the bed and breakfast. Looking forward to meeting tomorrow.” I answer for Cam with a smile that I hope eases the stress she’s clearly dealing with.
She visibly relaxes, clasping her hands in front of her. Cam glances at me with a nod before saying his goodbye. I say goodbye as well and follow him back out onto the porch.
“That was a little weird,” I comment, already planning on kicking off my heels in the car.
“It throws us off by a day.”
“It’ll be fine. You always pad our schedule.” I let him help me down the stairs and make it to where we’re parked.
“Now what are we going to do?”
“I am going to go throw on some comfy clothes and take a nap. Maybe we can meet up for dinner later?” I offer, knowing that he’ll more than likely decide to stay solo for the night.
As nice as he is, and as much as we genuinely like working together, he tends to live a lone-wolf lifestyle. I usually let it slide, especially so early on a project, since we usually have to spend a lot of time together for work.
“Yeah, we’ll see. We’ll connect. I’m going to grab a coffee at that café. Want me to grab you something?”
“I’m set. Let me know how the coffee is.”
“Will do.”
With that, we both get into our cars. I watch him drive away as I kick off my shoes and throw them into the passenger”s seat. There’s just a short drive between me and my bed, and I need a nap. Badly.