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“You liking the place is important.”
She turned on me, something razor-sharp there in her eyes. “Why did you suggest this, anyway? You can hardly tell me it’s just a salesperson’s job to sell a client on less.”
“Well. Ensuring the long-term satisfaction of the client takes priority.”
She sighed, turning back to the window. She was quiet for a long time where I ached for all the things I said wrong before she spoke. “The problem here,” she said, her voice soft, “is that I like you quite a bit, London.”
My heart missed a beat. I suppressed the feeling as best I could, but it was getting harder to do that. “I…” should be making a glib remark, but it’s difficult right now. I swallowed, my hands feeling shaky as I said the harder part. “How do you mean?”
“I’ve enjoyed being Amelie. Getting to take home beautiful women, enjoy my time out of the spotlight, do whatever I want. But you… well.” She hung her head. “It turns out I like when someone says my real name. When someone wears my designs for me and they know it’s my design. It turns out I like when someone takes me on dates and spends time with me.”
My head felt hot, dizzy, a thick sensation like hot wool settling between my ears. “I… thought we weren’t acknowledging them as dates.”
She laughed lightly. “I get tired of not saying what I mean.” She sat back in the sofa, kicking one leg up over the other. “Or maybe it’s that it’s so obvious now that even he knows.”
I winced, the magic that had been cast over the moment shattering like thin glass. “I—guess I probably should have figured. I said something I shouldn’t have.”
She gave me a sad smile. “So, he came around harassing you, too, did he?”
“Mm. He came into my office yesterday telling me to stop helping you find a place on such a high budget. And… then he started telling me in not-so-veiled terms not to get too close to you.”
She pursed her lips. I cleared my throat.
“And I said something I shouldn’t have.”
“What did you say?”
I tugged at my collar. “He said not to do anything I’d regret. So I told him not to throw away anything he wants to keep.”
She laughed. “Bet he loved that.”
“He… didn’t, as shocking as I’m sure that must be.”
She hung her head. “He wasn’t always like this, you know. I swear. Things were different, when we started…”
My chest ached, badly, like someone had grabbed it in two hands and twisted it around in the middle. I didn’t want to think about Cameron falling in love with this man—flirtatious little touches, staring deep into one another’s eyes, whispering declarations of love.
“He was the kindest person alive,” she said, quietly. “Would never tell anyone what to do with their lives. Charitable. Always willing to be there, help out… a different person. I just… wonder…”
Her voice shuddered, and I couldn’t help myself—I shifted closer, putting a hand on her lower back. “Take your time,” I whispered, and she choked out a small sob, wiping it frustratedly away.
“Dammit. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Hey.” I caressed her back. “This is a safe place. You can cry here.”
“Christ. I’m ruining my makeup.” She wiped her eyes again, sniffling, before she took a long, shaky breath. “I wonder if it was this that changed him. Dealing with all the… wealth.”
I frowned. “Cameron, it’s not your fault he got petty and jealous.”
“Not that. Just… wealth changes people. You take someone struggling to get by and give them a million dollars, come back in a year, and they’re a different person. Sometimes for the better. Sometimes for the worse, but always different.”
I pursed my lips, studying her, my heart pounding. I wasn’t sure why it was. “I don’t know if that’s true,” I said, finally, softly. She turned to me, eyebrows raised.
“Really?”
“Really. I think they’ll change how they act, but I don’t think it’s going to change the person. It just… lets them show who they really are, I guess.”
She pursed her lips tighter. “So, what? He was just hiding who he really was from me, for years?”
