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Sweet Like Honey

Page 87

by Deidra Duncan

Did it really matter what he thought?

The server set down our drinks and inquired about our food orders, eyeing me first.

“I’ll have a side garden salad.”

He nodded. “And which dressing would you like?”

I perused the options. “The strawberry vinaigrette.”

After jotting down my order, he turned to Cam, but Cam had his brows scrunched, staring at me. “Are you not hungry?”

“No.”

My stomach took that opportunity to growl like a starved lion. On the table, his hand slowly clenched into a fist. The silver in his eyes morphed into a flat grayish-blue. “It’s a business lunch. The meal is on Henley.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “I’m really not that hungry.”

A deep breath lifted his shoulders, and he exhaled with a beleaguered, “Honeycutt.”

“I’m not!”

He turned to the server, who now sported pursed lips and an expression full of awkward. “She’ll have the blueberry pancakes. And get her a damn coffee.”

“Cam—”

“You used to love blueberry pancakes after meets, yes?”

I scowled at him, but he only ordered his crepes, allowing the server to escape to freedom.

“You don’t have to⁠—”

“I’ll pay you,” he said abruptly. “A retention bonus. For staying.”

Thoughts of my sad budget spreadsheet whirled through my mind. He’d pay me more? I could chip away at the tall mountain of debt bearing my name. The patrons at the table next to us giggled, a pair of women my age in cute athleisure outfits and high ponytails, drinking mimosas. Their carefree laughter reached into a dark place inside me, where a jealous creature lurched forth, making me want what I imagined they had—peaceful lives with no concern that their bank account might teeter into the red.

Pride had compelled me to quit, but what was pride compared to debt?

I slipped my hands onto my lap under the table so Cam wouldn’t see me fidget. “How much?”

He named a figure that would wipe out my student loans, and for seven solid seconds, I couldn’t breathe. “Are—are you serious?”

“Is that not enough?” His earnest expression struck hard against the barrier I’d tried to erect around my crush. “We could offer more. How much do you think is fair?”

“How much—? Cam, that’s too much.” I reached for his hand on the table without thinking, my fingers hooking tightly around his. We both looked at our joined hands—no one more surprised than me—but I didn’t let go, and he stared as if mesmerized. I almost shivered when he brushed his thumb slowly across my fingers.

My body responded as if he were caressing far more intimate skin, and an obscene throb woke in my temples and wrists. For a girl who’d committed to smothering this crush with distance and distraction, I was doing a piss-poor job. If anything, the mellow flames inside me threatened to burst into an inferno, and I had to pull my hand back to maintain my composure.

He’s off-limits.

Too good for you.

“You charmed Carley Gentry into promoting us,” Cam said, voice low. “Your simple apology convinced dozens of clients to make sales inquiries, and that was all before the video this morning. Every single idea you’ve had has been genius, especially the ones that were stolen from you. Thanks to you, I can call Bobby over at Gray-Freeman today and tell him we are officially turning things around. That amount is not too much. You’re worth every penny, Shay.”

“Then why have you been so resistant to my ideas?”

He gave me a Seriously? look. “I already told you my father thinks I favor you. Did your conversation today not make it perfectly clear why I’ve had to sneak in your contributions under the radar?”

Oh, it was perfectly clear to me, but was it clear to him? Did he know what his father thought was going on between us?