Motherfucker.
“You okay there?” a voice says from beside me—Anthony.
I clench my jaw as I reply, “Peachy.”
“Christ, you’ve got it bad,” he says, and I finally rip my eyes away from Cameron and the arsehole as I turn to look at Anthony.
“Is it that obvious?” I don’t even bother trying to deny it. There’s no point. He’s seen what I am sure everyone has, if they have been observant enough to notice.
“Afraid so, my man,” he says as he claps his hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you just talk to her?”
“I can’t. It’s too complicated.” I have been trying to remind myself of how complicated, even more so since her comment last week.
“I’ve told you before, life is too fucking short to piss around,” Anthony says, and I sigh.
I lower my voice a little more as people mill around us. “She was with my son, Anthony.”
“And now she isn’t.”
I scoff. “That’s not the point.”
“It is, and dare I say that, actually, you knew her first.”
Christ, he’s going to make me crack and then I’m going to go all caveman on her arse by storming over there and hauling her out of here.
“It doesn’t matter that I knew her first—”
“Like hell it doesn’t,” he says, cutting me off. “You are being fucking stubborn, and to be honest, it only seems to be you and her making all the reasons why you shouldn’t be together.”
“What do you mean,her?” I ask. I know I’m thinking of reasons as to why we shouldn’t cross that line, again, but is she really doing that too?
“I’m not saying anything other than you need to fucking talk to her,” he says, and with that, he walks away, going to greet some more people as they arrive. Bastard.
I make my way to the bar and order another bourbon as my eyes drift back to where Cameron is. She’s smiling at the arsehole still, but then she turns her head and looks my way, our eyes locking together, as if she sensed I was watching her. I lift my fresh drink to my lips and take a sip, never looking away from her. She bites her bottom lip, and then she smiles at me in the cutest fucking way, before she turns and continues to talk to the bellend who is still fucking stood there.
I turn away and walk to the other side of the room, and I try to engage in meaningless chit chat, but my head is so far from the game right now. As the night wears on, and more men seem to make a beeline for Cameron, I feel so frustrated that I know I need a breather. I order another bourbon and then make my way from the room, indicating to Anthony that I need a minute. He nods his head, and then I’m making my way to my office. I didn’t acknowledge anyone else as I left the room.
When I get to my office, I open the door and then slam it shut, walking over to the windows that look out onto the balcony, seeing all of the people milling around in the garden. I put my hand on the window and lean against it as I sip my drink and try to remain calm and get myself together.
It’s my own fucking fault I’m not with her. It’s my fucking fault that she even went with my son in the first place. Had I not broken things off with her, it could have been so different. I’m beyond frustrated with myself, and I know that apart from going back in time, which is impossible, that there isn’t a single thing I can do to rectify my past mistake.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Cameron
Where is he?
I’ve been looking for Caleb for the last ten minutes, but there is no sign of him. I’ve been talking to a potential client and wanted to introduce him, seeing as he’s the head of marketing, and I pretty much thought that would seal the deal. He would be able to answer the questions that I can’t, having been working here all of five minutes, but he’s done a disappearing act.
I make my way from the room to go in search of him.
I head through the halls and upstairs, to the same floor that we both share when we’re working. I see that his office door is closed, and I open it quietly. The room is in darkness as I peer in, and my eyes sweep the room to see a figure stood by the windows that look out onto the balcony.
"There you are," I say as I walk in and close the door behind me. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. There’s a potential new client that I need you to come and speak to. They’re asking questions I can’t answer and…” My voice fades off as I see him swirling his glass gently, his back still to me. I stop by his desk and ask, “Are you okay?”
He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip, still not turning to face me.
I move slowly towards him, stopping just behind him. I reach up and lightly place my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs me off and says, “Don’t.”