“You sure?”
“Surprise me.” I don’t even pay attention as he orders.
“Why am I getting the feeling this isn’t going well?” he asks.
I jerk up to look at him. “I’m not really a country club kind of girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?”
I study his face, trying to figure out if he’s truly interested, or just trying to get into my pants. I can’t decide. I take a breath and decide to just put it out there.
“I’m just guessing, Gray, but I’d say that a mechanic hasn’t set foot in the doors of this place, unless it was the back entrance to get to the garage area so they can work on club cars or something.”
“Why does it matter? You’re here now. You’re here with me and I want you here, that’s all that matters.”
His response annoys me. I’m not sure why I thought he would understand, but I did. “You’re right.”
He sighs, as if he can hear the doubt in my voice. He stands up, reaching for my hand. “Come on.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re going to get out of here. If you’re not comfortable, then we’ll go somewhere where you are.”
“Gray! Is that you?” The high-pitched voice, squealing until it rakes across my nerve endings, cries out. I know that voice. I abhor that voice. The fact that the voice is calling out Gray’s name only makes me detest it more.
I look up at Gray and see a look of distaste cross his face. I feel a little better. I would almost smile if the bane of my entire childhood Cammie Riverton wasn’t standing there looking at Gray like a moon-eyed dog in heat. What the hell?
“Cammie,” Gray says, and I think maybe I mistook his look, because his voice sure does seem awful warm now—welcoming, even.
“What a great surprise seeing you here! I thought you said you had another business meeting today.”
“I did, I was…”
“Oh. My. God! Claudia Cooper, is that you?”
I grind my teeth together, wishing I had the superpower to turn invisible. “That’d be me. How are you, Cammie?”
“What on earth are you doing here with Gray? How could you two possibly know each other?” she asks. Her voice is so snide and her eyes shoot imaginary bullets at me. I probably shouldn’t do it, but as always when Cammie is involved, I find I can’t stop my mouth from reacting.
“I gave him a head job and he’s taking me to dinner as a thank you.”
“You what?” Cammie asks, her head reeling back as if I slapped her. I probably spoke much too loudly for this place too because it’s deathly quiet now, and I can see all of the eyes on me. I’m in too deep to back down now.
“I said I gave him a head job and he’s buying me dinner to show me his appreciation.” I hear Gray cough and when I look over at him, he’s smiling broadly and giving me a look I can’t quite decipher.
“Dear Lord! I can’t believe you,” Cammie whispers. “Gray! I don’t think my father will want to do business with a man who…”
“She means my car broke down and she fixed it.”
“She does?” Cammie asks, confused.
“Yes. A part of the engine is referred to as heads. Sometimes they blow a gasket,” he explains, but he’s looking right at me. I do my best to give him an innocent look. I know I fail. I don’t give a damn. I just want out of here.
Why is Gray doing business with Cammie’s father? A better question is: why do I even care?
“Goodness, I should have known that’s what it was. Really, Claude was always so coarse, it shouldn’t surprise me that she hasn’t changed,” Cammie answers, as if CC isn’t even in the room. I see CC’s face tighten and her eyes narrow. I am tempted to see just how this exchange will go down because I think I might get an honest look at CC—and that is very enticing indeed—but Seth would probably kill me. I wasn’t sure I liked Cammie before this, and now I’m positive. The little minx currently trying to figure out how to leave, however, is someone I definitely like. After this, I believe she does in fact owe me a head job.
“I like the way CC is upfront. Kind of like, what you see is what you get. It’s much better than trying to figure out who a person is when they pretend to be someone else entirely,” I tell Cammie.
I see CC sit up at my barb just as it flies over the top of Cammie’s head. Cammie might be pretty in a clean, polished, Ivy League kind of way, but she’s obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe her parents kept her too sheltered. If that’s the case, they didn’t do her any favors.
“I suppose,” Cammie agrees reluctantly. “But really, Claude, you should be more aware of your surroundings. I mean, you are sitting at my father’s table. Your behavior reflects on him.”