Chapter 2 - Dangerous Proxies
The elevator doors opened on the penthouse executive floor at precisely 7:45 AM. I was running on four hours of sleep and an unhealthy amount of black coffee, but I had made sure my charcoal suit was tailored to perfection. If my boss wanted a war of nerves, I wasn't showing up underdressed.
""Morning, Wesley,"" Harper greeted me from the reception desk, her eyes dancing with wicked amusement. Clearly, whatever she had witnessed at the gala the night before had kept her entertained all night. ""Ms. Rhodes asked for you the second you walked in. Conference Room A.""
""Walking into the lion's den already. Wish me luck.""
""You're going to need a lot more than luck,"" Harper whispered behind her coffee mug.
I pushed open the frosted glass door of Conference Room A. Camila was standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Chicago, sunlight catching the golden highlights in her dark hair. She was wearing an ivory tailored pantsuit that screamed authority, but her posture stiffened the instant she heard my footsteps.
""You're late,"" she said without turning around.
""It's 7:52, Camila. I'm eight minutes early.""
She spun on her heels, holding a folder against her chest. ""Early is on time. On time is late."" Her gaze dragged down the length of my suit, lingering on my shoulders before snapping back to my eyes. A faint, knowing smirk touched her lips. ""Did you dress up for the marketing team, or are you hoping Elena Vance drops by unannounced?""
Round one had officially started.
""Elena actually texted me at seven this morning,"" I lied effortlessly, leaning my hip against the mahogany conference table and crossing my arms. ""She suggested we grab breakfast before her flight back to New York. I had to politely decline because my demanding boss insists on crack-of-dawn strategy meetings.""
Camila’s jaw tightened by a fraction of a millimeter. ""How professional of her to text your personal number before business hours.""
""Talent recognizes talent,"" I said, flashing her a grin. ""Or maybe she just appreciates a man who knows how to hold an intelligent conversation without a company handbook in his hand.""
Camila walked toward me, each click of her Christian Louboutin heels echoing ominously in the silent room. She stopped barely six inches away, forcing me to look down into her fierce, honey-flecked brown eyes.
""Don't flatter yourself, Wesley. She wants access to our media contacts. But if you're so eager for external companionship, you'll be thrilled with today's calendar."" She tossed the folder onto the table between us. ""Daniel Mercer is joining our executive sprint for the next three days. He's personally reviewing the European expansion pitch. We'll be working in my private office. Behind closed doors.""
The casual mention of Mercer hit like a physical jab to the gut. ""Daniel? Doesn't he have his own venture firm to run?""
""He cleared his schedule for me,"" Camila purred, watching my reaction with calculating precision. ""He thinks my vision is extraordinary. And unlike some people, he doesn't complain about early mornings.""
I forced a completely neutral expression onto my face, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my fists clench. ""Fabulous. I love Daniel. Great hair. Fantastic portfolio. Make sure you don't spend too much of the company's money on fancy lunches while you two reminisce about the good old days.""
""Are you worried about our budget, Wesley?"" she asked softly, tilting her chin up. ""Or are you worried about my attention?""
""I don't worry about things that aren't mine, Camila,"" I replied, my voice dropping an octave, steady and deliberately low.
Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, the smug amusement dropped from her face, replaced by a raw, startling vulnerability that made my heart hammer violently against my ribs.
Then the glass door swung open.
""Camila, darling! Hope I'm not interrupting,"" Daniel’s booming voice broke the spell. He stepped in holding two cups of artisan coffee, looking like he owned the place.
May you like
Camila took a step back, breaking our gaze, though her cheeks were flushed. ""Not at all, Daniel. Wesley was just leaving to review the creative drafts. Right, Wesley?""
I picked up the folder, looking directly at Camila while offering Mercer a razor-sharp smile. ""Right on cue. Have fun playing with the numbers, kids. Let me know when you need real creative vision.""
