Chapter 9
“Evelyn was able to tell me that she was okay, but there was an incident with the fryer at her parent’s restaurant. Her burns were bad enough that she had to be brought to the hospital. When she passed out on the phone—”
Wade’s eyes widen. “She passed out while you were talking to her?”
She gives him a solemn look. “Yeah, she did. They’d given her morphine, which is why she was able to call me despite the pain from her burns. They gave her enough that it caused her to pass out. The nurse who picked up her phone explained it all to me much clearer than Evelyn had. The grease got all over her, but the burns were particularly bad on one of her forearms. To the point where the nurse said that they will have to keep her overnight, but she’s going to be okay. Her parents have already been contacted in Florida, so I wouldn’t be able to get there any quicker than they can.”
“So you’re staying,” Wade states, looking her face over.
“I think so,” she swallows. “I won’t be of any help to her once her mother’s there, and she’ll be mad if I leave before we have a chance to discuss Bloom and Bloom’s interest in our product.”
She was fishing, she knew that. Walking from the guesthouse to the main house, Camille decided that if she had the backbone to walk out of the Toronto meeting, then she had the backbone to see this deal go through on her own. Mentioning Bloom and Bloom’s interest in her product was to see if Wade would give anything away. If the company wanted more than the Oxygen Recycler.
Wade nods slowly. “Okay, then. Looks like I’m not the only person who probably works too much.” He gives her a tight grin. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend.”
“I’m sorry too,” Easton mumbles from the couch, his eyes locked on the game.
“Thanks,” Camille sighs, “she was lucky.”
Camille glances across the living room at the hallway leading to Leah’s room. The backbone she had been so sure she had moments ago wains. “Do you want to go tell her, or should I?” she asks Wade, hoping he’ll volunteer.
“We’ll go together.”
It’s not exactly what she hoped for, but she’ll take it.
Outside of Leah’s bedroom door, the warmth from Wade standing beside her, along with the sound of laughter from within the bedroom, makes her feel better. She isn’t alone, and Leah won’t be as mad if she’s already in a good mood, right? Seeing that she isn’t going to do it, Wade knocks on the door.
“Don’t worry,” he assures, seeing Camille staring at the door. “This won’t be an issue. Mom does video conferences all the time. We can overnight the paperwork for your business partner to sign. No big deal.”
He says it like the deal is already done. Like he knows that his mother is going to offer Integrity the deal they’ve been waiting for and that all of the stress she is feeling right now is for nothing. She could hug him. The sound of laughter grows until the doorknob turns. The door opens, not to Leah, but to Nancy holding a hand towel.
“Aunt Nan,” Wade grins ear to ear. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I snuck in earlier,” Nancy smiles, wrapping her arms around Wade. “Oh, my boy,” she murmurs into his ear, pressing her cheek hard against his. “Your mother was just telling me what a great job you did negotiating the New York deal.” She takes a step back to hold him at arms-length, the towel dangling. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Wade replies in her grasp, “I did my job.”
Nancy lets go of him, grinning proudly at Camille. “That’s Wade for you, always downplaying his accomplishments.”
Camille stares at them, enjoying how chipper Nancy is compared to how laid back she was at the boutique.
“Hey, uh—” Wade looks around Nancy into the bedroom. “Where’s Mom? We need to speak to her.”
“Oh,” Nancy steps back, grabbing the door as if to block them as she peers into the room. “She’s still in the shower. Those antibiotics made her sick.” Nancy shakes her head, frowning. “I told her that she’d have to eat when she took them. She wanted to clean up before we came out to greet everyone.” Nancy leans into Wade, lowering her voice. “What’s the girl like?”
“Typical,” he says, simply.
Nancy narrows her eyes.
“What do you want me to say?” He shrugs. “I barely spoke to her. She ran inside to change clothes as soon as she learned that Mom was here.”
“She was wearing a Balenciaga t-shirt,” Camille discloses, not able to resist.
“Ugh,” Nancy groans, leaning into the open door. “Well, your mother’s holding out hope that she’ll be what your bother needs. You know how bad she wants grandchildren.”
Wade glances at Camille. “My mom’s wanted grandkids since Easton and I moved out. If you ask me, she should’ve had more kids, then she wouldn’t be so bored living on her own.”
“You’re mother isn’t alone. She has me, and I can assure you, we aren’t bored. We do whatever we want, whenever we want. Why do you think she finally had that surgery?” Nancy doesn’t wait for him to answer. “So we can go skiing in the Alps next season.”
“Who are you talking to, Nan?” Leah calls out from somewhere in the bedroom.
Nancy’s head disappears around the door. “It’s Wade and Camille. They wanted to have a word with you.”
They listen outside the door until Leah rolls up with her scooter, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. Her hair is pulled up in a towel, twisted on top of her head. “It’s not that girl Easton brought, is it?” she asks, looking worried.
“No, ma’am,” Camille answers. “I just got a call from Evelyn. There was an accident at her parent’s restaurant, and she’s in the hospital.”
“Oh no,” Leah gasps.
“She’ll be okay,” Camille adds quickly. “She won’t be able to make it this weekend, but I can assure you that we still want this meeting to happen.”
Leah nods, looking down at the floor between them for a moment. “I’ll have Delilah set up something this evening.” She glances up at Wade.
“I’ll have them put together what we talked about,” he confirms.
“Very good.” Leah turns to Nancy. “Did you hear that? A grown woman is missing out on an important business deal to take care of her parents’ restaurant,” she raises her voice, directing it into the hallway beyond them, “and I have a son who can’t even get off the couch to tell his mother hello.” She and Wade exchange a sour look.
Nancy leans out the door between Wade and Camille, looking down the hall towards the living room, but Easton and the couch are well out of sight.
“How did she know he was on the couch?” Camille whispers.
“Buck informed us that he was at the gate. We pulled up the security cameras on her phone after that,” Nancy reveals, straightening. “Don’t give the boy a hard time,” she tells Leah.
Leah smirks. “The boy wouldn’t know what a hard time was if it slapped him in the face.”
Once she’s behind Leah, Nancy holds up the hand towel. She takes the ends in either hand, pulling it tight as she points the towel at Leah’s backside with her hand. In one quick motion, she lets go of it with her other hand, slinging the loose end of the towel. It snaps against Leah’s rear end, giving her a jolt. Leah’s eyes bulge in surprise as she curses under her breath, snapping her head around to glare at Nancy, who lets out a loud cackle and hurries off to the bathroom. Leah turns back to them, laughing to herself. Wade’s shaking his head at them.
“He didn’t want to bother you until that Sadie chick was ready to meet you,” he retorts over his mother’s laughter.
Leah’s face turns somber. “Her name is Sadie,” she chews, carefully weighing out the name.
“Yeah,” Wade nods, “Sadie Quinn.”
“Quinn,” Nancy repeats, sounding more like a question than a statement, reappearing behind Leah. She narrows her eyes at Wade.
Wade opens his mouth, but Leah pushes back from them.
“I need to get dressed. Tell your brother I’ll be out shortly, and I expect him to be in the living room when I come out, with or without the girlfriend.”
They back up as Nancy shuts the door. Camille turns to Wade.
“So is it true?” she asks, trying not to look too excited. “Is Sadie’s sister the woman from the text messages?”
He keeps his gaze straight ahead, not giving away any emotion. “It would appear so.”
Camille nods. “Maybe she will get to make you that coffee after all.”
“I would rather let you beat me unconscious with my Babe Ruth bat.”
“Wow,” she grins, glancing up at him as he fights to keep a straight face, “you must really hate coffee.”
He breaks into a smile.
Riding her wave of success, she continues, “Did you happen to notice that towel in Nancy’s hand?”
“Yeah,” he replies, blissfully unaware that it was because of that towel and the way that Nancy so playfully popped Leah’s rear end that Camille is certain that not only was Nancy not heterosexual, but that Nancy Ortego and Leah Bloom are more than friends.
“Do you think she was helping her in the shower?”
“I don’t think Nan was in the shower with her if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, still not looking like he’s grasping what she’s trying to say, “but she did say Mom got sick, so she could have been cleaning that up.”
Camille hadn’t thought of that. But she didn’t believe Nancy would carry around and play with a towel if she’d used it to clean up a mess.
“Maybe,” Camille continues carefully, “she helped your mom get undressed.”
“That’s a possibility,” Wade shrugs, nonchalant. He glances down at her, seeing the way she gapes at him. “What? You’ve never had a friend help you clean up?”
“No, I’ve always been perfectly capable.”
“Well,” he says as they walk out into the living room, “If you need help while you’re here, I’m available.”
She turns to him, but he’s already doubled his stride, walking up to his brother on the couch.
“Are you blind?” Easton shouts at the TV.
Wade walks around the back of the couch. “Hey.” He leans over the back of the couch, slapping Easton on the back. “You better get that chick out here. You pissed Mom off by not telling her that you were here. You both better be ready when Mom walks out in a minute.”
“Christ,” Easton groans, not taking his eyes off the game, “it’s not like she didn’t know that I was here as soon as we got to the gate.”
“You know how she is. Nancy’s here too.”
Easton frowns at him. He looks back at the TV, noticing Camille. “Hey Camille—” he starts.
“Nope,” Wade says loudly. “You’re not going to ask Camille to go fetch your girlfriend for you. She isn’t an assistant. She’s the future of our company.”
“I would ask you to go get her if I thought you would do it, and you’re the CFO of the company.”
“That’s because you don’t have any respect.” Wade plops down beside him. “Now, go get that chick you brought.”
“Sadie,” Easton corrects, picking up the remote. He pauses the game to glare at Wade. “Her name is Sadie.”
Camille steps around the back of the couch, eyeing the corridor that leads to the bedrooms. She looks back to see Wade narrowing his eyes at his brother, who continues to glare at him.
“I know her name. Do you not remember the name of the lunatic that wouldn’t stop texting me?”
Easton’s glare softens to a smug grin. “Yeah, how do you think I found Sadie? I looked Victoria up on Instagram and found her smoking-hot sister. I messaged her, and the rest is history.”
“Are you kidding me?” Wade snatches one of the large pillows up from the couch, smacking it against the side of Easton’s head.
“I’ll go get Sadie,” Camille says as Easton glares at the pillow and then at his brother.
Not sure which room is theirs, Camille starts at the first door in the hallway.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the mature one?” Easton grumbles from the living room.
“That was the mature thing to do,” Wade snaps, “I could have given you a bloody nose instead.”
This is what life would have been like if she’d had siblings: making each other mad, fighting it out, resolution, and then doing it all over again. She taps on the first door, pretty sure that when Easton led Sadie inside, they walked further down the hall before disappearing inside one of the rooms. There’s no answer, but she tries the doorknob to be sure. It’s unlocked.
It’s a large bedroom at least twice the size of her bedroom back in Dallas. The white walls and ceiling are offset by the dark, king-sized bed with burgundy sheets and matching pillows. The deep mahogany dresser facing the bed is identical to the nightstands. Sitting on top of the dresser is the baseball bat from the second-floor guesthouse. This must be where Wade is staying temporarily.
Besides the furniture, the room is empty. She eyes the thin, rectangular cutout on the floor at the foot of the bed. Another hidden television no doubt. She wonders how much something like that must cost as she shuts the door.
She could imagine it being thousands for the televisions alone. Add tens of thousands to cut a hole in the floor to insert some overly technical device to raise and lower it from view. That’s when she decides to ask no less than seven million for her Oxygen Recycler. Bloom and Bloom can obviously afford it.
Heading to the next door, she sees movement from the backyard. At first, she thinks it’s Nancy’s tall figure and short hair walking across the lawn from the guesthouse even though she just saw her in Leah’s room. On closer inspection, she sees that the woman’s hair isn’t quite right to be Nancy’s. She isn’t as tall either, with an hourglass frame accentuated by the light brown apron she’s tying at the front of her midsection as she walks toward the back patio. Camille can see that her dark hair is styled in an asymmetrical pixie cut as she gets closer. Even their chef is a sight to behold.
Camille passes the second door, hearing the faint sound of Sadie’s voice coming from further down the hall. At the third door, she stops. She can hear Sadie going on about something, but the room is insulated enough that she can’t make out what she’s saying from the shut door. Camille knocks twice.
“I know. Can you believe the nerve?” Sadie says into her phone as she opens the door.
Sadie is standing in only a lacey, nude-color bra and the shorts she wore outside. Camille immediately diverts her eyes. The lace is see-through, but Camille can’t blame her. If she were as physically flawless, she wouldn’t be so self-conscious about showing off her body either. Not with see-through clothing, but she’d be more open to wearing cut-off shirts and skintight jeans if she didn’t have to worry about her cellulite.
“Let me let you go,” Sadie smirks. “I’ll call you after I’ve met the mother.” She hangs up, stepping back from the door to give Camille a grand wave of her arm, ushering her inside. She tosses her cellphone on the bed, hurrying across the room to the en suite. “I know,” she calls over her shoulder as Camille awkwardly shuts the door behind her, “it’s taking me forever, but,” she disappears around the corner of the bathroom, “I just don’t know what to wear, you know?”
“Yeah.” Camille forces a chuckle, regretting her decision to not let Easton collect her. “I didn’t know what to expect meeting her either.”
“Ah, come on,” Sadie says, rustling around. She reappears at the bathroom doorway, pulling a white t-shirt over her head, wearing a skin-toned thong instead of the shorts. “You don’t have to be modest,” Sadie grins, turning to give Camille a full view of her picturesque derrière. “Techy people like you probably deal with the wealthy all the time. Not to mention,” she reappears a second later, stepping into a pair of leather pants almost identical to the ones Camille tried on at the boutique this morning, “you’re probably just as wealthy yourself.”
“I am modest,” she admits, eyeing Sadie’s pants, “but I’m not wealthy.”
Sadie even makes pulling the leather up her leg look easy.
“But I wouldn’t need to be if I had half your looks.”
“You’re so sweet,” Sadie smiles, jumping the rest of the way into the pants. “Genetics only get you so far. It’s the sunscreen and drinking plenty of water that keeps my skin healthy.”
Camille stares at her, making a conscious effort to not roll her eyes at the girl who’s never felt the inside of her thighs rub together when she walks. Sadie tucks the white shirt into the pants.
“Great advice,” Camille says drily, trying not to focus on how little Sadie’s midriff bulges over the top of her pants as she leans forward to tuck in the back of the shirt. “Easton was busy with Wade, so I figured I’d let you know that Leah will be out once she’s dressed and expects to meet you.”
“Oh,” Sadie gasps, her eyes getting big, “I can’t believe she would change just to meet me.”
Camille frowns a little. “Well, I think she wasn’t feeling well earlier…” she stops, not sure if she should be telling her that Leah threw up.
“Oh, that’s right, the surgery. Is she in a wheelchair? Easton never told me how old his mother was. The Nordstrom’s—one of my family’s longtime friends in New York—all use surrogates these days because they waited until their forties to have kids.” Sadie fusses with her hair, craning her neck to look in the mirror while standing in the doorway.
“Leah’s not like that. She’s…youthful,” Camille spurts, unable to think of a better word. “She has a boot on her leg, but she gets around fine.”
Sadie’s face falls. “Well that’s good news,” she replies, though her face portrays the opposite. It’s enough to make Camille feel uncomfortable. Sadie moves into the bathroom to get a better look at herself in the mirror.
Camille reaches her hand behind her for the doorknob. “I’m gonna go check on the guys.”
“Speaking of guys,” Sadie sticks her head out from the bathroom. “Have you and Wade ever hooked up?”
Hooked up?Camille frowns. She hasn’t heard that term since high school. She was never the one doing the hooking up and didn’t spend time with the kind of girls who asked those sorts of questions.
“I met him last night,” Camille shrugs.
Sadie stares across the room at her waiting.
Camille turns the doorknob. “No,” she finalizes.
“Count yourself lucky,” Sadie grins, disappearing back into the bathroom, “the second he hooked up with my sister, he left her high and dry.”
Camille walks out, leaving the door open. She’s heard enough.
The game is playing again in the living room, and Easton and Wade are sitting back on the couch. Wade drops his head back on the couch to look at her.
A pot clatters, causing Camille to jump. The woman in the apron she’d seen crossing the backyard is squatting down in front of the bottom cabinets.
“Hello there,” she says, looking up at Camille. “You must be Easton’s friend. I’m Marcy.”
Wade lets out a laugh.
“No,” Camille replies, cutting eyes at Wade. Is it really so crazy to think she could be Easton’s date? “I’m Camille Lee.”
“Sadie’s my girlfriend,” Easton corrects, staring at the tv.
“Oh, good deal,” Marcy cheers, standing up holding a large pan. “Do you have any food allergies or preferences? I’m making pan-fried sesame garlic chicken over rice for a late lunch—”
“Sadie and I are vegetarians,” Easton exclaims from the couch, barely turning his head in their direction.
Marcy sets the pan down loudly on the stove. “Since when are you a vegetarian?”
“Since he started dating one,” Wade answers.
Easton shoots him a warning look that Wade ignores.
Marcy looks at Camille. “Guess I’ll have to take out the tofu then. Any meal requests for the weekend?”
“No,” Camille says gently. “I’ll pretty much eat anything.”
Marcy nods, moving to the second to last six-foot-tall cabinet door. She opens it, and Camille has to do a double-take.
“What on earth is that?” she asks, seeing the cabinet door open to a room instead of shelving. Marcy looks at her and then follows her gaze back to the cabinet.
“What this? It’s my kitchen.” She gives Camille a small grin.
“Your kitchen,” Camille echos.
“Yup. It’s where I keep all the groceries for meals. I cook and meal prep in here too when there’s visitors. If you can’t find me,” she nods inside of the mini kitchen, “you know where to find me.
“Okay,” she mumbles, finding the whole idea of an extra kitchen just for a chef to cook privately baffling. Camille continues on her way past the kitchen, feeling overwhelmed.
“I’m going up to my room,” she mumbles lightly as she passes the couch.
“See you later,” Wade says.
Camille walks out to the back patio. There are too many people and too much going on for her to stick around. She was feeling enough like an outsider before Easton and Sadie showed up. Now it’s going to be like she’s intruding on a family vacation with the richest, prettiest family she’s ever met. It’s too much to think about. She needs a nap if she’s going to be at this evening’s meeting alone.