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“I know the feeling,” I mutter, feeling a pang of sympathy for him, albeit not much.
Jefferson pulls out two NDAs, passing them to each of us. Dr. Shadid hands us each a pen, and we do our due diligence by signing and dating them. It feels almost wrong, but I don’t argue. I’m just freaking relieved that this is going to go away—and I don’t have to listen to my PR team gripe about it.
“I’ll take those,” Jefferson mumbles as we hand them back to him. He stuffs them in his binder and then turns to Dr. Shadid. “My work here is done.”
“I’ll see you out,” Tina chirps to Jefferson, heading for the door. She opens it and the two of them disappear from the room.
“Well, you two.” Dr. Shadid’s eyes bounce between us. “Have we made amends? Is there anything else you’d like to say to each other?”
Samuel and I exchange a glance, and I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m sorry that I didn’t back off, but I’m not sorry for standing up for Nila.”
“I’d have done the same if it were my wife,” Samuel tells me, his smile soft and eyes sad. “Anger is a pain and has been more of a crutch to me than I’d like to admit, but I’m trying to get better.”
I nod. “I’m trying to get better, too. I’ve just ... well, ever since I lost my mom, I feel the fierce need to protect the people I care about, and sometimes … I guess I rely on unconventional ways to do that.”
I pause at the realization.
Maybe Dr. Shadid’s methods do work…
“That’s a great observation,” Dr. Shadid says, giving me his usual terse smile. “Maybe you can work on thinking before you act. Although I have to say, in the case where someone else starts the fight, I do think you have the right to defend yourself.”
I nod, feeling a little relieved.
Now I just have to make things right with Nila.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nila
I’m pacing. Yeah, pacing.
My mind keeps playing up these awful situations that end with Cameron getting into serious trouble—which makes no sense. I just signed an NDA under the notion that everything that happened would be kept under wraps.
Yet, I’m still worried about him.
I sigh and pull out my phone. It’s within the approved window of communication, so naturally, my phone is pinging with the typical social media notifications. They’re mostly just likes and comments on Cameron’s profile. I haven’t posted anything on my account, and honestly, I don’t think anyone has even noticed.
A lump threatens to form in my throat if I dwell on it too long, and thankfully, I don’t have to. My phone starts vibrating against the palm of my hand.
I glance down at the unknown New York number.
Normally, I don’t answer calls I don’t recognize, but I’ll take the distraction today.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Nila?” a deep, sultry voice says on the other end.
“It is...” I begin, slipping into the bedroom and shutting the door—as if I need the privacy. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Garrett Norris. I own Vibrant Tech.”
My brows shoot up, thinking of the big-time business guru in New York City. Almost everyone has heard of him—or seen him. My acquaintances drool over the tall, dark, and fun-loving CEO. “Your name sounds familiar.”
“Good, then maybe it won’t be weird if I tell you I need your services.”
What could he possibly need my help for?
“Oh? What can I help you with?” His personal social media account has tons of followers, and he has no problems with engagement.
