Tequila, Tequila

He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Thank you. Seriously. She’s been trying to get me on a date for two years now, but I’m not interested.”

“Well, we just have to wait long enough to make it believable.” I sank into one of the stylish, cream leather chairs that sat close to the desk. “Five minutes or so. Your mom saw me on the phone, so she won’t be suspicious.”

“Were you a spy in another life?”

“No. Like I said: I’m a woman. I’m used to being the wingman who gets rid of unwanted advances.” I smirked. “Also, thanks for bringing my wine.”

He laughed and handed it to me before sitting in the chair opposite me. “You’re welcome. Consider that my thank you.”

“A raise would work.”

“You’ve worked there a week. Settle down.”

“It was worth a shot.” I grinned. “Well, I’m here for you. Appointments, phone calls, house listings, and unwanted advances.”

He barked a laugh, flattening his hand against his stomach. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I winked, probably looking like a sloth with a twitch, and sipped my wine. We sat together in silence for a good couple of minutes, and that allowed me to look around the room.

And at Cameron.

All right, mostly at Cameron.

His suit fit him to perfection. I should have expected it, of course. I was used to him wearing one, but his choice was usually gray. Gray pants, gray jacket, white shirt, black tie. He’d changed it up tonight, wearing a black suit that was closer to a tuxedo than your everyday suit.

His deep blue tie was the only thing that stopped him looking like he was headed to a wedding.

It suited him. Almost more than the gray. Maybe it was the lines the black jacket gave his upper body, the complete illusion of the shape of his torso. I knew without seeing them that his body was packed with muscle. You didn’t have to have X-ray vision to see that the man was blessed in every way possible.

Well. Not every way. I hadn’t—yeah. I wasn’t going down that route.

I broke my stare of him, a spark of fear rocketing through me that he’d notice. The last thing I wanted was for him to realize I’d been checking him out.

Ugh.

But it was so unfair.

I wanted to check him out like a library book.

His dark hair, his hot stubble, his perfect lips, his beautiful blue eyes…

Well, even library books had a time limit. I guessed this was mine, and I wasn’t willing to take on any kind of fine for my staring.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the study opened. Both of us shot up to sit bolt upright, our gazes darting toward it.

It was Cordelia.

She stepped inside, pursing her lips.

“It’s my fault,” I said quickly, standing up.

She held up one hand. “Cameron, your father is sharing a tipple with Leonard Fortune. He’d like you to be there to discuss the potential for a Denver office.”

I swallowed. Hard. That sounded like I was in trouble.

Cameron flashed me a glance before he stood, finishing his wine and putting the empty glass on the desk. “Of course, Mom. Are they in his office?”

She nodded. “Take a decanter of scotch, won’t you? They’re both in an excellent mood, and I daresay a little more of that won’t hurt.”

“No problem at all.” He flashed me one more concerned look before he left the study, shutting the door behind him.

Leaving me with his mom.

Alone.

“Mrs. Reid, I—”

“Cordelia,” she interrupted. Then, she sighed. “Goodness, it’s exhausting, isn’t it? Pretending you like people.”

Shocked, I stared at her as she tugged at the stomach of her dress and filled the seat Cameron had just vacated.

She looked up at me. “Mallory, darling, do sit down. You’re making the room look untidy.”

I sat down so fast I hurt my ass.

She tittered a laugh, but there was nothing insincere about it. “I know. I’ve been sociable all evening, but even I reach a point where I need to check out.” She crossed one leg over the other and cradled her wine glass in one hand.

Her eyes were incredible. They made you feel both comfortable and completely out of your depth with one look.

If I could grow up to be anyone…

“Tell me, darling. What was the phone call so important that you had to drag Cameron away from the get-together?”

I could lie. The option was there. She didn’t know. It could have been anything—but nothing that would lead me to have an explanation as to why we’d been sitting and chatting like old friends in here.

Besides, I was sure she knew.

She’d looked at Rachel like she was a bad rash on a good day, and that was all I needed to tell the truth.

“He was uncomfortable around Rachel.” I met her eyes. “I saw an opportunity to get him out of the situation, and I took it.”