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Chapter Eight
Camilla
I was still fuming when I woke up the next morning. If I had one overall talent at that time, it was holding a grudge. I liked to chalk it up to my fiery, Irish genes and artistic temperament. Most people just thought I was a bit of a bitch.
My teeth were still gritting as I made breakfast. Just one serving all for me. Just to drive the point home to Aden, that he couldn’t jerk me around and get away with it. If he wanted any more of my practically perfect in every way cinnamon French toast, he would just have to lump it.
Filled up with the best of my culinary abilities, I put on the least attractive outfit I could find—hot pink yoga pants with a mint green hoodie and brown crocs. I had no one to impress anymore and figured I might as well be comfortable. It wasn’t like Ryan was going to fire me for not following the non-existent dress-code. Besides which, the company apparently had a reputation for being casual. A notion only reinforced by the dedicated ping-pong table and the vintage arcade machines in the break room.
I was at the office first as I always was. The design staff wandering in as close to nine as they could manage, time being a more flexible concept within the company’s walls. Ryan didn’t seem to care much how the work was done as long as it was finished on schedule. The schedule was part of my job to keep in order. A fact which filled me with a sense of pride and power.
When Aden came in, I completely blanked him, eyes fixed firmly on the comic book Carlos had suggested. It was actually pretty good. I knew it was Aden because I could smell him getting off the elevator. I didn’t even know that they made Eddie Bauer’s Pure anymore, but he had apparently found enough to bathe in the stuff. It was a crisp, pleasant smell, but I was training myself to hate it.
I knew his whore didn’t stay last because I watched through the peephole for her to leave. Not my finest moment but it seemed like a good idea at the time. He must have kicked her out like he had done to me. I figured he’d come in with a spring in his step after getting laid twice in one night. I never would have said it out loud, but the pink-haired girl was pretty cute.
Though from what I could tell, Aden wasn’t smiling as he came in. Not that I cared. It served him right.
“Why didn’t you bring over breakfast?” he actually had the nerve to ask.
I just glared at him, resisting the urge to bludgeon him with my stapler until he walked off.
But he didn’t just walk away. No sir. He fucking chuckled at me as he did so. I was overtaken with a sudden and childish urge to throw my pen at him. It bounced off his broad back, barely making a sound.
“Sorry, it slipped,” I said, picking it up off the floor.
We locked in a hard stare, that is, until the sound of Cooper’s voice, coming out of his office while talking to a client, made us separate and return to our corners.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetie.”
“I’m not playing at all anymore. The rules keep changing,” I quipped, returning to my desk, feeling like Dorothy Parker.
The hours ticked by without further incident. My point was apparently well and truly made. At least to Aden.
It was just after lunch when the pink-haired girl came in like nothing had happened.
“Your lover is with a client,” I said, tone dripping with cold bitterness.
She dared to smile at me. I tried to return it with my own face smile.
“Oh, I’m here to see you, not my cousin.”
“Cousin?” I felt my eyebrows shoot up.
“First cousin last I checked,” she said, leaning on my desk, getting right into my face.
That was when I recognized her. “Shae?”
“Yep.”
“What happened?”
“Fourteen years of growing up and a stellar dye job.”
I felt sick as the tsunami of humiliation crashed over me. I had been such a fucking brat and for no good reason. I felt my cheeks turn bright red.
“So, how have you been?” Shae propped herself onto the edge of my desk. “What have you been up to?”
I couldn’t respond at first. The crushing weight of embarrassment rendering me momentarily mute. Eventually, I managed to gather up my maturity enough to answer.
