Beauty and the Brit by Poppy St. James
STERLING
What started as a brilliant afternoon turned into utter rubbish. Camryn’s angry at me for stepping in to help with her debt, and here I expected to be praised for being so thoughtful. People normally pay me five hundred dollars an hour to do that.
I spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, rolling it over in my mind, and came up with exactly nothing to solve this mess. Watching her interact with my mum? Camryn fits like the puzzle piece that was missing all along. But now I’ve messed things up.
And now as I sit in my office, dunking a tea bag into a cup of steaming water, things with Camryn seem as bleak as ever. I’ve got meetings all day and a client dinner this evening I can’t get out of, but tonight I’ll find a way to make Camryn understand. Perhaps it’s time to tell her how I really feel. The truth will set you free.
I press the intercom button on my phone. “Teri, can you come in here?”
My assistant, Teri, steps inside the office, stopping directly before my desk. She’s a straight shooter, and I love that about her. And since she plays for the opposing team, there’s never been any weird advances or complications between us. It’s the perfect relationship.
I remove the tea bag and take a sip of the scalding brew. “Would you mind closing the door?”
Her mouth presses into a line, and she scurries to the door to shut it. “Am I in trouble?”
“Not at all. When have you ever been in trouble?” It’s usually me we’re plotting how to bail out of hot water.
“Good point.” Her smile returns. “So, what’s up?”
“I think I might have messed up.”
Teri sighs and sinks into the leather armchair across from my desk. “Is it the Levenstein file, because if I have to fix that one more time, so help me God . . .”
I chuckle. “No, it’s not the Levenstein file. It’s Camryn.”
“That woman you’ve been spending all your time with?”
I nod, realizing I haven’t been as private about the whole affair as I thought.
“What did you do, Romeo?” Her tone is casual.
“I was only trying to help.”
“What did you do?” she says, her voice growing stern.
“I may have taken Camryn’s credit-card statements and consolidated them with some help from Brian in the credit department,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Without her knowing.”
“What? That’s a total invasion of privacy, Sterling. You’re right. You did mess up. Bad.”
“Thanks,” I mutter dryly. “Let’s just say she was less than appreciative.”
“No kidding. You need to ask someone before you do things like that. Why do you think I can help?”
“Because you know women.”
She tips her head, seeming to agree. “Have you tried apologizing?”
I did in the car, didn’t I? But Camryn was so angry, maybe she needed time to cool down. I replay our conversation in my head. There’s a chance that I just asked her why she was mad and told her I was trying to help. Maybe I never said the two little words I should have. I’m sorry.
“You know? That might just work.”
Teri’s brows dart up, and her mouth opens. “Start with that. Let me know how it goes.”
Somehow I know a text message with an apology and a sad-face emoji won’t be enough. This is a conversation that needs to happen in person. Face-to-face.
The rest of the day drags by at a snail’s pace as I tackle one problem after another. When I finally finish up with the client dinner, I’m crushed to see it’s already ten o’clock—too late to show up unannounced at Camryn’s place. She’s probably in bed.
Not that I wouldn’t like to join her, but I know the best thing is to head home and create a game plan for tomorrow.