The Baddest Bad Boy

Cammie looks at me, puzzled.

“So you get to travel, but you don’t get to enjoy the places you visit?”

I nod.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I say. “The airline has you in and out in a jiffy. But I try to make time for the locales I’m really interested in. I’ve been flying a long time now, so the airline gives me priority when it comes to scheduling.”

She nods thoughtfully.

“That makes sense. And how often do you fly?”

“Pretty much constantly,” I admit, although for the first time, the words taste sour in my mouth. “It’s rare for me to be home for more than a day or two at a time. Guess I’m a workaholic.”

I’ve always been proud of being a hard worker before, but now, it just sounds like something Gordon Gekko would say. Ugh. Am I really that lame?

Cammie sighs.

“Wow. Your schedule’s pretty crazy, but if it works, then it works.”

I nod.

“It does, or at least, it has so far. But I want you to know that that’s why I never called after we met at Caitlin’s place. I was just in the air too much.”

Cammie blushes and looks down. “What do you mean?”

I feel slightly chump-like, but the words must be said.

“I flew out of Medina literally the next day after the dinner party and I wasn’t back in town for more than a few hours until yesterday. It wouldn’t have been fair of me to call you when I was always in the air.”

The beautiful woman nods, looking thoughtful. “I understand what you’re saying, and it’s totally fine. No harm, no foul. Besides, I’ve been really busy with work lately, too.”

I nod, relieved. She’s forgiven me! Or more accurately, Cammie has an easy-going personality that’s reasonable and calm. I appreciate that, especially as I’m used to high strung, demanding women.

“What do you do?” I ask.

She smiles.

“I’m a graphic designer. I take care of websites for people, create logos, design business cards. You know, that kind of thing.”

I grin, impressed. “That’s pretty awesome. How did you get started with that?”

Cammie giggles. “Well, I took a graphic design class in high school and got the bug. Then, when Caitlin was starting her business, she asked me to help her with her logo, and things took off from there. Most of my clients found me through referrals or because they saw Caitlin’s website and looked me up. Actually, your brother has actually gotten me a few gigs, too.”

“Wow. That’s awesome. You must be really talented.”

Cammie shrugs modestly and smiles. “I do okay.”

“I’m serious! I could never design anything, much less a logo.”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s not as hard as it looks. If you practice, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

I put my hand on Cammie’s arm and the touch is electric. But I make my voice stay steady.

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart. You wouldn’t be getting all these clients if you weren’t doing a good job. Can I see some of your designs soon?”

She blushes. “Not a chance.”

I pull out my phone. “Yeah, but I could just bring up the Get Pressed website and look at your work.”

“No, don’t do that,” she laughs, pushing my phone down. “I’ll show you some of my stuff later, okay? Just not now.”

“Fine, but you have to pinkie promise.”

Cammie rolls her eyes. “What are you, Troy, five?”

“Yes. I’m five. Do it.”

I hold out my pinkie until Cammie hooks it with her own, giggling all the while. Then I shake our pinkies up and down, the motion ridiculous. But it has the desired effect, and our deal is sealed.

“There. You can’t break a pinkie promise. It’s the most sacred of all promises, as you know.”

She lets out another melodic laugh, and my heart contracts at the sound.

“Is that so?”

“Yep. I don’t make the rules.”

Cammie laughs. “I’ll trust you, then. I promise to show you a few sites and stuff I’ve done in the past. I just don’t want to do it now.”

I’m not sure why Cammie is so hesitant to show me her work, but I’m not going to force the issue. After all, it’s been nice to just sit and talk with her. She’s an amazing conversationalist, and interesting and funny to boot. I had no idea there were women with actual careers and ambitions, instead of throw-away jobs as they prime themselves for meeting a rich husband.

Then again, when I’m in other cities, I usually end up with women like Sharon who don’t bother much with conversation. That’s not the point of their existence. In fact, I haven’t really talked with anyone since the last time I hung out with my brother, which means it’s been a long time.

“This breakfast is really good,” Cammie says, breaking into my reverie. “Thank you again for cooking.”

“No problem, sweetheart, and I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s the least I could do after you showed me a good time last night.”