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CHAPTER11
Two weeks later
Mason
I’d barely sat down at my desk and taken a sip of my coffee before my calendar pinged with an alert. I lifted my gaze to the computer screen with a groan.
Dammit.
I’d forgotten about that.
When I’d first arrived here, I’d set up a gathering for the richest and most upstanding members of the upper class in the surrounding areas. The whole thing was meant to garner sponsors and donations for my potential run for office, but I’d planned the whole thing before Cami and I had gotten together.
I knew the kind of people they were. I’d worked with them my whole life and I knew how they would react to seeing a young woman like Cami with me. They’d see a rich man in his early thirties with a nineteen-year-old woman on his arm. They would gossip, calling me a cradle robber or worse, a dirty old man, but that wouldn’t be anything compared to what they would say about her.
In their eyes, she’d be labeled a whore and when someone ultimately found out about her past, she’d be called a gold digger. They’d use all the names in the book to insult her and I couldn’t stand for that. It would be even worse if they knew she lived here with me too and had been doing so for weeks now.
I wanted to protect her.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to figure out my next move. I cared for her immensely, but I’d also moved here with the full intention of making a name for myself in the political sphere. My company was solid, and I’d be making royalties for years based off the software I’d coded myself. I could bridge out to a few more sectors, but there wasn’t too much more room for growth.
I wanted to be more involved in the political sector though, to make changes that affected more things than just a simple fix of a code.
I couldn’t do that with a scandal over my head, not to mention it would probably end up hurting Cami in the process.
In the end, I could only think of one potential solution. I’d have to keep Cami hidden from the public until the time was right and I had enough power that I could shield her from the gossips of the world as much as I could.
With a sigh, I took another sip of coffee and started to finalize the timeline of the gathering. I ordered high-end catering and made sure to book one of the top-tier open bar servicers in the area. I didn’t exactly need money to run for office but getting the support of the biggest influences in the area would be necessary to my success and in my experience, open bars were one of the best ways to do that. Open wallets and bids for support always seemed easier to come by when loosened with some top-shelf liquor.
I worked until about ten o’clock that morning, which was usually the time that Cami would emerge from our bedroom. Like clockwork, there was a gentle knock on the door, and I smiled when I called for her to open it.
“Morning, Daddy,” she said softly, and I pushed back my chair and grabbed my empty mug.
“Morning, little girl. What do you want for breakfast today?” I asked, enjoying the way her face lit up.
“Pancakes,” she said excitedly.
“You had pancakes yesterday,” I chided her jokingly and she stuck out her tongue in response. I lifted my chin and pretended to give her a stern look, to which she scuttled out the door with me close at her heels.
“So what? I like pancakes,” she sassed, and I walked a little bit faster. I had no intentions of catching her, but I did like to keep her on her toes because I knew that excited her immensely.
Adorably, she moved her hands behind her back and covered her backside as she skidded into the kitchen, after which she practically dove into her seat at the table. I stood for a moment with my arms crossed over my chest and simply studied her, which made her fidget in her seat even more. Eventually I sat down next to her, and she watched me warily.
“What kind of pancakes, Cami-girl?” I finally said and she sighed in relief.
“The bananas foster kind with that special whipped cream,” she stated with a grin.
“I really do spoil you too much sometimes,” I sighed, but I typed a quick text to my chef anyway.
“But they’re so tasty!” she exclaimed, and I smirked back at her.
“I know. But they’re full of so much sugar, aren’t they, naughty girl?” I scolded her and she made a face at me.
“Breakfast of champions in my book,” she replied, the feisty little thing.
“To be honest, I ordered myself a plate too,” I admitted to her and the look of victory on her face was comical.
“And here you are, busting my balls when you like them just as much as I do,” she sassed and stuck out her tongue.
