“As he should. That’s his job.” She nodded and turned around. “I’m glad you’re settling in, darling. It’s a gratifying job. That’s how I met Cameron’s father, you know. I was his assistant.”
“No, you didn’t.” Cameron took a bottle of white wine from an ice bucket. “You knew each other before you worked for him. You only tell the story this way because you think it’s more romantic.”
She batted her long eyelashes. “Is that a problem?”
“No, but I keep telling you—if you want to fictionalize your love story, write a damn book.” He turned his attention to me. “Is Sauvignon Blanc okay?”
I took a deep breath and nodded. I wasn’t going to lie, I was incredibly intimidated by Cordelia, but at the same time, I kind of really wanted to be her friend.
She was very prim and proper, almost stereotypical British-like in her mannerisms despite being American, but I could see that she had a good heart beneath her somewhat cold exterior.
She struck me as the kind of woman who liked things done, but only if they were done her way.
I could relate. I was also partial to having things done my way.
Although that was probably more of a female thing than it is an individual trait…
“Thank you,” I managed to eke out when Cameron handed me the glass.
He gave me a smile that made my heart thud. You know the kind—slow and lazy but stupidly sexy.
Or maybe that was the suit. Or both. I didn’t know. I did, however, know that I was developing a crush on my boss that I needed to get over pronto.
“Fine, I’ll write a book,” Cordelia said, accepting her own glass from Cameron. “But I’m still going to tell Mallory all about it.”
“I have no doubt,” Cameron said dryly.
***
There were a lot of people here.
A lot of wealthy people. As in, they wore earrings that cost more than my entire outfit, and this red dress was one I’d splurged on for special occasions.
I’d spent the last ninety minutes attached to Cameron’s side. In fact, he’d had one hand on me almost the entire evening, and I hated to admit that his hand on my back or my arm had made me feel a lot better.
He was obviously familiar with these people, and quite honestly, it was just about enough to make me have a good think about this weird little crush I was developing on him.
This was a whole different world.
All I had going for me at this point was the fact I hadn’t yet tripped over my own feet, spilled a drink, or walked into anyone.
Mind you, the drink thing was probably because Cameron was firmly in control of pouring wine, and he was only filling my glass halfway. That probably had something to do with the fact that it was the ‘proper’ way to drink wine, but I’d never taken much stock with that.
In fact, wine was about the only liquid I’d never spilled. Alcohol in general, actually.
Coffee? Sure. Water? Always. Juice? Quite regularly.
Alcohol? The nectar of the Gods? Hell to the no.
I smiled as a couple whose names I’d already forgotten left us in peace. Cameron melted us back into the corner of the living room and once again pressed his hand to my back, leaning down.
His mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his breath skitter across my skin. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m not really a fancy mixer type of person,” I said slowly. “I’d go for Chex Mix over hors-d’oeuvres.”
“Me, too. Chex Mix, popcorn, chips and salsa…” He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t go for these parties either, but my mother loves them.”
It was true enough. Cordelia had been holding court all evening so far, the absolute epitome of a perfect hostess. She’d hired servers who mingled with champagne on trays and those fucky little snacks I’d been avoiding.
I’d heard there was dessert, and I was holding out.
“How does she do it?” I asked Cameron, leaning into him a little. “She actually enjoys being around people, doesn’t she?”
He chuckled, dropping his chin. “She does. She’s extremely sociable. She thrives on being around other people, especially when they’re as driven and formidable as she is.”
“Formidable. That’s one word for her.”
“I feel like she and your aunt would get along.”
I shuddered. “Don’t. Did she really ask you what was wrong with you?”
He nodded, shoulders shaking with laughter. “She did. She asked me why I was single, and when I said I didn’t understand, she said that I was young, rich, and handsome, then asked what was wrong with me. Luckily, your mom saved me at that point.”
“And proceeded to tell you she’d accept you as a son-in-law.”
“Yeah, but only because I approved of her drinking.”
“That will do it,” I mused. “It’s kind of tense right now. We don’t all get along often because we all have quite strong personalities. At least on my mom’s side. My dad pretty much just sits there and lets us all get on with it.”