“Both.” I said, letting the word hang between us.
“Nathan?”
I turned at the familiar voice and saw Camille Voss weaving through the crowd in a sleek, crimson gown, the fabric catching the light with every step.
“Camille,” I greeted, leaning in just enough to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Didn’t realize you’d be here tonight.”
“Please,” she said lightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Half my roster is in this room. It would’ve been more surprising if I wasn’t.” Camille’s gaze flicked to Elise, a hint of recognition settling in. “Elise, right?” she said.
“Yes.” Elise returned Camille’s smile without missing a beat, but I didn’t miss that the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“It’s nice to finally put a face to the voice,” Camille said.
“Camille, would you do me the honor of a dance?” I asked, extending a hand.
Her brow arched. “You hate dancing.”
“True. But my date needs a break.”
Elise stiffened beside me. I didn’t even need to look at her to feel the jealousy simmering.
“He’s right.” Elise smiled even harder, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. “There’s an open bar and I think it’s time I take advantage of it,” She paused. “You two enjoy yourself.”
Camille took Elise’s place, her fingers light in mine as the slow beat of some moody R&B track pulsed through the speakers. She moved easily, gracefully. “You clean up well,” I said, offering the compliment mostly out of habit.
She smiled. “I’d hope so. This look took hours.” she replied, letting me guide her into a slow turn before settling back against my hand.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” I added.
“Last-minute decision,” she said. “One of my artists is up for two awards. I figured I should at least pretend to be supportive in person.”
I dipped my chin in acknowledgment, my hand settling at her waist again.
“Smart.”
We fell into an easy rhythm for a few beats, the kind that came from familiarity more than effort. We swayed together in comfortable silence for a few beats before she looked up at me with an arched brow.
“So,” she began, her tone laced with amusement. “You wanna tell me why you’re using me to make your assistant jealous?”
Because I don’t have time to play this slow. I needed to push her. Make her feel something. Anything that would move uscloser to what I needed her to agree to even if I had to play dirty to get there.
I gave her a sidelong look. “That obvious?”
“To everyone but Elise,” she said with a knowing smile. “But give her a few more sips of tequila and I’m sure the meltdown will be public.”
“I’m not trying to make her miserable,” I muttered, even though the curl of satisfaction I’d felt watching her stiffen earlier said otherwise. “I just want her to admit she feels something.”
Camille twirled again, giving me a dry look when she landed. “Nathan Edge, emotional manipulation is so beneath you.”
“I prefer the term ‘strategic pressure.’”
“You’re so full of it.” Camille laughed.
I smirked but didn’t deny it.
“You like her,” Camille stated. When I didn’t respond Camille leaned in. “Look, I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve seen you with women you’ve wined, dined, and completely forgotten about two weeks later. But this girl? You’re dancing with me and your eyes are still tracking her like a sniper.”
I followed her gaze toward the bar. Elise was leaning forward, her hand curled around a fresh drink, lips tilted in a fake smile as a man in a tight blazer said something that made her laugh just a little too hard.
