Page 155 of Masters of Control

It was hard not to be fearful that something terrible was going to happen, as if the universe might balance the scales because too many good things were happening to her. She didn’t like to think of herself as superstitious, but it was harder to accept good things happening to her than it was bad. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Her phone buzzed as she was putting on her coat, indicating an incoming text message. It was from Freddy, of course.

Freddy: Have a great day and let me know how it goes.

She smiled.

Their celebration dinner last night had been perfect. Just the two of them, out to dinner, enjoying each other’s company. He’d insisted on paying. Despite whatever drama was going on at Stronghold, he’d focused entirely on her for the whole evening. Granted, they’d talked in the car on the way there about what Lexie, Kate, Gina, and Amy had said about the situation because Camille had been curious, but he’d let it go once they got to dinner and only talked about enjoyable topics.

She was still going to check in with Julie and Olivia. She wanted to help and make sure Freddy didn’t overload himself. People in the club were going to have to get used to her being a part of things when they asked him for help—and to her occasionally putting her foot down so Freddy wasn’t prioritizing everyone else over himself. Right now, it was looking like nothing was actually going on other than a few people not getting along, and she wasn’t going to let him run himself ragged trying to navigate someone else’s drama.

Camille: Thank you, I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day!

Freddy: Have a GREAT day.

Smiling, feeling a little lighter, the exchange lifting some of her anxiety, she headed out the door. Some of that anxiety returned when she reached the office and Rachel looked up from her computer at the front desk, her expression freezing when she saw it was Camille.

“Good morning,” Camille said, pretending to ignore Rachel’s reaction. She had no idea what the woman had heard, but Junior must have said something either to her or within her hearing.

“Morning. Um, you’re wanted in Conference Room 3 as soon as you arrive.” The sympathy in Rachel’s eyes would have made Camille quake in her boots on any other day. Now, her resignation letter was burning a hole in her purse.

“Thank you, Rachel,” she said calmly, turning to head down the hall to the conference room rather than her office. Behind her, she could hear Rachel picking up the phone and murmuring something, probably a heads up that Camille was on her way.

She was pretty sure the unexpected summons was meant to intimidate her, make her worry about what Junior had told the other partners. When she walked into Conference Room 3 and found herself facing the partners who were in the office, with Junior smirking in the middle of them, she went from pretty sure to completely sure.

It was a room full of old, white men, most looking at her with varying degrees of disapproval. Junior’s Uncle Steve was doing something on his phone, and he barely glanced up when she walked in, appearing more indifferent than disapproving.

“Camille, thank you for coming to meet with us. Please sit down.” Donaldson Senior sat with his hands folded in front of him, his expression less disapproving than it was serious, but the disapproval was still there.

Deciding to take a seat, Camille sat straight, settling her purse at her side. She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or angered at the attempted ambush. What did they actually hope to accomplish?

“Jared came to us with some unsettling news about an encounter he had with you this weekend. Is it true you have been dating the lawyer representing Mrs. Alexander?”

“Yes and no,” she replied. “We were not dating while we were representing the Alexanders. As you know, the Alexanders’ divorce has been finalized, so there is nothing wrong with us having dinner together this past weekend.”

“Can you prove that you weren’t dating him while you were representing Mr. Alexander?” Junior asked with a smug expression. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Camille’s anger started to stir.

While she could appreciate that the partners wanted to make sure nothing unethical had happened, this was going too far. Not one of them reprimanded him but actually looked at her expectantly.

“Can I prove that something didn’t happen?” she asked coolly, raising one eyebrow. “No, I cannot. Not anymore than I can prove Santa Claus doesn’t exist or that aliens aren’t out there.”

Steve chuckled, which caused a few heads to turn toward him, but he was still engrossed in his phone. Whether he was laughing at her response or at whatever he was looking at on his phone was debatable. Since he didn’t look up or say anything else, everyone turned away from him after a moment. Camille pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, some of the tension sliding away in favor of relief that she wasn’t going to have to put up with this any longer.

She should really put them all out of their misery.

“I hate to break up this interrogation into my personal life, which is none of your business, but it’s all a moot point.” Several of the partners’ jaws dropped, including Donaldson Senior, which was incredibly satisfying. She reached into her purse and pulled out the resignation letter from the side pocket. “Here’s my resignation from the firm. I’ll work with you to move any of my clients over to new partners during my remaining weeks.”

“You’re leaving us for him?” Junior sounded outraged, sitting straight up and banging one fist on the table, startling her.

She hadn’t thought he would care or if he did, he would be glad to see her go, but instead, he seemed pissed. Then again, he was probably like Mr. Alexander with his desire to be the one to leave any relationship, taking being left as a personal affront.

“No, I’m leaving this job for another one… as people often do. I am very grateful for everything I’ve learned working here, but it’s time for me to move on.” Despite the desire to throw a grenade on the bridge and watch it burn, she was going to be a professional. She still had to work here for another month.

Silently, Donaldson Senior reached over to slide the letter closer to him and gave it a quick read through. As he was doing so, Steve Donaldson finally looked up from his phone.

“Where are you going?”