This woman clearly had a grudge. She pitted herself against Cameron regularly, over issues big and small. But her habit of making Cameron’s life difficult didn’t mean she’d go so far as to hurt her.
I’d gathered a dossier on Bobby Spencer, too. According to both Cameron and Brandy, he didn’t have a motive. But he’d sent up a flag when I’d met him, and despite the fact that it was looking more and more like Cameron didn’t have anything to worry about, I wanted to be thorough.
His background was far more colorful. Bobby Spencer had been living the rich playboy life since high school. A regular in the gossip rags. There were stories about his obnoxious behavior and paparazzi photos of him partying in cities all over the world. He was the sort of guy who expected to be ushered to the front of the line, let in to every exclusive club and event based on his last name and the zeroes in his trust fund.
But why would a hard-partying rich boy want to hurt Cameron? The guy had it made. He’d never have to work a day in his life, and Cameron posed no threat to his decadent lifestyle.
No motive.
Corporate espionage was harder to trace, at least without a solid suspect. So far, I hadn’t found any connections between any key staff members at Spencer and anyone at Reese Howard. I’d have to cast my net a little wider. See if I caught anything.
An alert popped up on my screen. Cameron had a breakfast meeting at a restaurant a couple of blocks away. I closed my laptop just as she came out of her office. We took the elevator down to the lobby and left out the front doors.
I walked down the sidewalk next to her, keeping her on my left, away from the street. She did something on her phone, then tucked it away in her purse. Her heels clicked on the pavement and she brushed her thick red hair behind her shoulders.
The restaurant was just close enough that we weren’t sweating by the time we stepped into the comfortable lobby. I held the door for her, then went inside and did a quick visual sweep. The restaurant was elegant. Nothing of note. No sense of danger, other than the ever-present tingle I always felt when I looked at Cameron.
Everly Dalton, the woman she was interviewing, was already here. Pretty. Blond. Big smile. She and Cameron exchanged introductions and Cameron complimented her shoes.
“Are you ready to be seated, Ms. Whitbury?” the hostess asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
I could only see part of the restaurant from here. Despite the fact that we still didn’t have hard evidence that Cameron had been targeted—or was in real danger—I was still going to do my job. Thoroughly.
Plus, she’d messed with me the other day. I’d mess with her right back.
“I’ll go first,” I said.
Cameron only lost control of her expression for a second, but I saw it. A spark of annoyance made her green eyes flash. God, she was sexy when she was trying not to argue with me. Without a word, she gestured for me to go ahead of her.
I followed the hostess through the interior of the restaurant. The décor was subdued for Miami, sleek and modern with wood and chrome accents. About half the tables were taken. Couples, small groups, business meetings. Nothing unusual.
The hostess led us to a private terrace with a single table. I held up my hand and went out first. I didn’t really need to inspect the entire area, but irritating Cameron was too tempting to resist. I could practically hear the snarky comments she was trying to hold back.
I checked the table, moved the chairs and inspected beneath them. Did a quick walk around the terrace and looked over the balcony. An awning provided shade and planters held bright green plants. Nice ambiance. And obviously perfectly safe.
“Clear,” I said and took up a position off to the side, my arms crossed.
Cameron and Everly came out onto the terrace and Cameron cleared her throat. “Sorry. Jude is… security.”
I kept my lip from twitching in a smile, wondering what she’d stopped herself from saying with that little pause. Jude is overprotective? Jude is a pain in my ass?
Probably the second one.
“I suppose someone like you needs a bodyguard,” Everly said.
“My friends seem to think so,” Cameron said.
They both pulled out chairs and sat.
I stayed where I was while Cameron chatted with Everly. She’d flown her out from Seattle for a second interview. Cameron was creating a charitable foundation to organize her philanthropic efforts, and she was considering Everly for the executive director position.