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While I'm willing my cock to stay down, Garrett begins sharing a few updates about his construction crew with both of us. The only thing I manage to catch is that they're to start tearing down the current building today and get the space cleaned up.
When Camille purchased this location, there was already a building here—which was once a mechanic shop—but it's been vacant, and the lot has been for sale for years.
It really is the perfect location for her headquarters. And as I look around, a strange feeling of familiarity comes over me.
I can’t quite place it, but I know that I’m missing something.
We spend twenty minutes discussing the plans to tear down the current building and clean up the lot. Afterward, we say our goodbyes to Garrett, then Camille and I agree to go back to her office to discuss the design plan further.
Not long after,we arrive at a large office plaza downtown. I follow Camille into the parking lot and ride the elevator with her silently up to the twentieth floor, where her temporary office is located. The woman at the front desk buzzes us in and offers a friendly wave that Camille returns.
"A few of my staff members from New York followed me here. I'll need to hire some more, but I want to get construction started first,” she explains while leading me down a hallway. Her makeshift location is not what I was expecting. I hadn't realized she was already beginning to move operations here and had staff. As we pass by the different offices, she explains what each one is for.
The first office we come across is for legal, the second for printing, the third for marketing, the fourth for design, and finally, we reach the fifth door at the very end of the hall, secluded away from the other offices. The fifth is her office, and once we're inside, I see that it fits her perfectly.
A white sectional couch is against a white wall, and above it hangs a large gold and black painting, across the room is her cherry oak desk, and near the sofa is a minibar cart. The wall directly ahead is a floor-to-ceiling window that displays the Seattle skyline. It's a beautiful view and exactly what I'd expect from Camille.
She gestures for me to take a seat in front of her desk. Unbuttoning my jacket, I take a seat, my eyes carefully watching her movements. She sits in the chair behind the desk, and frozen, I watch her pull a folded piece of paper from one of her drawers.
With a smug grin on her plump red lips, she slides the crumpled paper across to me. "This is what I want. As I said, it's a rough sketch, but I know you can bring the vision to life."
I lean forward, take the piece of paper, and I’m instantly taken back many years as I see the semi-faded ink and a very rough sketch. "You kept this?" I'm shocked, to say the least.
It's my design. A design I made for her when we were younger. Even as children, Camille talked about one day owning her own clothing company, and my plan was to design her dream building.
"Of course I did. I am a little surprised you didn't remember the location."
"What?" I ask, just as the realization hits me, causing me to laugh suddenly.
How did I not realize it sooner?
She's bringing my plans for her to life—the location we chose together and the design I made for her years ago. I'm surprised she even remembers after all these years, and I’m even more shocked that she still wants the same design.
"Okay, then let's get started. I know exactly what to create for you." Her eyes meet mine, and I know I'm not the only one feeling the sizzling electricity between us.
Camille has come into my life unexpectedly after eleven years, and I know that life as I know it will never be the same again.
FIVE
THEN
Dean,12 years old
"Where are we at?" Camille pushes down the kickstand on her bike and walks toward the gate of the vacant building that I brought her to. She turned nine today, and right after we had cake and ice cream at her house, I told her I wanted to show her something, so we jumped on our bikes, and I led her straight here.
This is my birthday present to her.
"We are at the location of your future clothing company," I explain with a wide smile. For a year now, Camille has been talking about one day becoming a fashion designer and being famous. She’s been talking about wanting to find the best office space in the entire city. When I was riding my bike one day, I found this place and knew that it was perfect for her. It sits on a hill and overlooks Seattle beautifully. It was once a mechanic shop that went out of business a few months ago, and since then, it's been gated up. I've never seen anyone around here.
"Dean! Are you serious?" She jumps up and down excitedly, clapping her hands.
"Look"—I pull a piece of paper out of my jacket and unfold it carefully—"this is exactly how I will design it. I'm going to build it just for you." I stand beside her, holding my hand out to offer my sketch to her.
"You drew this for me? Why?"
"I'd do anything for you, Cam. You're my best friend." She surprises me by throwing herself at me and hugging me tightly while she squeals joyously. I relish in the feeling of holding her against me, my nose buried in her silky black hair. She always smells like vanilla and coconut, and it’s become my favorite scent. "I want to help you achieve your dream of having the best building for your fashion stuff."
She pulls away from me, her fingertips tracing over the lines of the blueprint on the paper I gave her. "I will, thanks to you! This will be my number one location. I'll work here and live with you, and together, we can create more so I can open several stores worldwide." Camille has always been a big dreamer. While most kids her age are talking about becoming a princess, an astronaut, a doctor in space, or any other crazy career choices us children come up with, she knows exactly what she wants. Her mind has never changed. She has her entire future planned.
