Camden (The Casanova Club Book 13) Page 3

  Regardless, I still hated it.

  And the damn tree.

  Apparently, being the wealthiest resident and the owner of the building still did not afford me the luxury or the power of making the executive decision to take said tree down.

  It was bullshit. All of it. The music, the tree, and the specialty Christmas cocktail menu in the lounge.

  Bullshit.

  I rocked back on my heels as I waited for the elevator to come down to get me. Then my eyes wandered over to the cocktail lounge. I checked the time on my watch, frowned, and abandoned my present course of action in favor of a stiff drink before going up to my suite.

  Up to Piper.

  It was a quarter after nine. I’d had Daniel warn her that I would be returning home later this evening due to work obligations. She had free range of the place, and I knew there would be plenty for her to entertain herself with. I had no qualms about her being alone in my home. There wasn’t anything she could get into that I wouldn’t want her seeing. Besides, she might as well get acquainted with the space. She’d likely be spending a lot of time solo up there over the month, and I’d be at the office. Why not give her some extra time to get familiar with the space?

  It was an easy way to justify my decision to opt for a double when I ordered my bourbon on the rocks. A table near the window offered the perfect place to sit while I scrolled through emails on my phone and responded to ones that I could quickly and without access to my office. It wasn’t pleasant work, but it was work nonetheless, and the productivity made me feel like less of a waste of space.

  Bradley told me on a weekly basis that I was a workaholic. I didn’t deny it, but I didn’t see it as the negative thing he did. I saw it as a strength. There was a reason I’d had such success in the thirty-nine years I’d been alive, and it certainly wasn’t because I was good at sitting around on my hands watching Netflix shows.

  The bourbon went down easy. So did the second glass. I was considering ordering a third single when a familiar young man in a red vest approached my table.

  “Daniel,” I said without looking up from my phone.

  “Mr. Wood. What are you doing up here at this hour?”

  I glanced at the time again. Ten thirty. “Work.”

  “There is a very beautiful young woman waiting upon your arrival up in your suite. She arrived at six o’clock. You might, perhaps, consider retiring to your suite to keep her company?”

  “I am aware she’s there, Daniel.”

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Right. And yet… you are here.”

  “I am.”

  Daniel was a good kid. He worked hard, appreciated his job, and wasn’t afraid to speak up when something bothered him. I appreciated that in a person. And I knew what he was doing. He’d clearly spent a brief amount of time with Piper and was likely as intrigued by her as I had been last year at this time.

  “I will go up and see her when I finish here,” I said. “Don’t worry, Daniel. I will not leave her to her own devices all month.”

  Daniel chuckled nervously. “If you planned on it, I would be more than willing to keep her company, sir.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  Daniel swallowed. “Uh. Erm. Yes. Wait. No. I was joking. Just a joke, sir.”

  I studied him. Daniel didn’t retreat like so many young men under my stare. Then I smiled. “I’m giving you a hard time, Daniel. I appreciate you taking the time this afternoon to welcome Piper when I could not. I doubt, however, that any more of your time will be required to keep her company. But I can definitely let her know you are available if she is bored.”

  “All right, sir. Thank you.”

  Daniel still did not leave. I sighed and slid my phone into my pocket before pushing my empty glass away and getting to my feet. I was taller than the kid by a good three-quarters of a foot, and he stepped back to allow space for me to move away from the table. I clapped him on the shoulder. “Message received. I’ll go see her now.”

  I caught his proud smirk as I skirted around him with my coat draped over one arm and made for the elevators.

  I spent the ride up to my suite considering what I might find Piper doing. Perhaps she was one of those women who was early to bed and she’d already retired to her guest quarters. It was possible but unlikely. She was likely filled with nerves at our impending meeting, and I couldn’t deny that there was an uneasy flutter in my gut as well. I tried to tell myself I had nothing to feel nervous about. She was just a woman.

  A girl, really. Twenty-one? Twenty-two perhaps?

  I couldn’t let that ruffle my feathers.

  The elevator doors opened, and I crossed the landing and descended my stairs into the living area, where, much to my surprise, I found Piper to my immediate right, sitting in the corner of one of my leather sofas. Her eyes, a few shades darker than the sofa, widened when she looked up from her book and saw me.

  “Camden,” she said, putting the book down on its open pages beside her and popping up to her feet. She came forward and leaned in for a hug. Her breasts pressed against my chest, and she smiled up at me when she pulled away. “It’s good to see you.”

  “And you.”

  She gave me a nervous smile. I remembered those lips. Full, with a sharp cupid’s bow. They were their natural shade of pink tonight, which I had never seen. Usually, they were painted red. They looked soft and full and—

  “How was work?” she asked. I liked the way her lips formed her words.

  I cleared my throat and draped my jacket over the back of the sofa. “It was a busy day. I appreciate your understanding, Piper. I may have more than a fair share of late nights like this over the course of the month.”

  She pressed her lips together. Why did she keep drawing my attention to her mouth? “That’s all right,” she said. I believed her. “You have a magnificent home. I indulged myself in some exploring and made myself comfortable.” Her giggle was nervous and sweet and more than a little endearing.

  I noted the crackling fireplace she’d lit and the cup of half-finished tea on the table beside the sofa. “I can see that. I’m glad. What’s mine is yours this month.”

  “Thank you.”

  Quiet settled between us like a fresh snowfall. She looked at me, and I looked back at her. Her smile was warm and pleasant like the fire crackling behind her, and she clasped her hands in front of herself.

  “Well,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Should we sit?”

  I’d have preferred to have some peace and quiet, but it was time to accept the fact that this month was not going to go how I wanted it to. So I nodded. “Yes. Would you care for a drink?”

  Piper shook her head before picking up her tea and claiming her corner of the sofa once more. “No thank you. I’m covered.” She pursed her lips to her mug. How they pressed against the ceramic was maddening, and for a brief moment, I imagined what they would look like pressed to something else.

  Then I shook my head and made for the dining room, where I stopped at the liquor cabinet, fixed myself another bourbon, and returned to the living room to join the beautiful young woman for conversation.

  I told myself I could not hide behind drinks all month. I’d have to be better. Business would not run smoothly if I was tossing back bourbon like it was water.

  Piper crossed one leg under the other and continued sipping her tea. She might have been waiting for me to start the conversation. It was hard to tell.

  I took the initiative. “How has the year been treating you?”

  “Good. I mean, it’s been confusing. And stressful. And it definitely hasn’t gone the way I expected. But overall? It’s good.”

  Just good? That hardly seemed like a promising adjective.

  “And you?” she asked.

  “It’s been very lucrative,” I said.

  Piper nodded.

  The silent snow fell between us again. She stared down into her mug. I swirled my bourbon.

  My mind wandered t
o business. I had meetings tomorrow all day long. We were finishing client accounts and wrapping up loose ends as we closed in on the end of the year. There was paperwork to fill out. Contracts to negotiate for the start of next year. Books to balance. Employee bonuses to sign. Annual raises to approve.

  “Are you looking forward to the holidays?” Piper asked.

  My gaze flicked to her. She had her head cocked to the side as she regarded me with gentle curiosity. The question wasn’t crossing any lines, but it got my scruff up regardless. Talk of Christmas always did.

  Before I responded, I reminded myself that she did not know me. “Honestly?”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “Not particularly. Christmas has never been on my radar.”

  She smiled graciously. “I imagine you have more important things to tend to this time of year than who’s on your shopping list and hanging Christmas lights.”

  “Yes,” I said, appreciating her understanding. “Exactly.”

  “I get it.”

  There was another pause. “And you? Are you looking forward to it?”

  “To Christmas?” she asked. Her eyes danced, and she rearranged herself on the sofa to switch which leg was tucked under the other. She was wearing a pair of skin-tight black leggings that looked like they were painted onto her skin. Her ruby-red sweater was loose with wide sleeves that were a few inches too long for her. “Yes, I am. I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of year. The lights. The music. The festivities.” She giggled bashfully and looked down at her tea. “Truth be told, I start looking forward to Christmas as soon as Halloween is over.”

  She was one of those people. Great. “Right,” I said flatly.

  As I’d expected, we were two very different people. Different generations. Different priorities. Different interests.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with that. But I suspected it would make for a very long month for the both of us.

  I sighed.

  My mind wandered back to business. I wondered if Bradley would have his files organized for tomorrow for the client meetings. I’d prepped everything for our appointment with new investors, and he was handling the personal accounts. I was sure he was on top of it, but I recalled last year how things got a little unorganized around the holidays.

  I didn’t want that to happen again.

  Piper got to her feet. “I think I’m going to head up to bed. It was a long day for me. I imagine for you too. We’ll see each other tomorrow?”

  I stood up and nodded. “Yes. Of course. I leave around eight o’clock for work. But I’ll be home in the evening.”

  “Should we plan on having dinner together?”

  “I might be late.”

  Piper nodded. “All right. We’ll play it by ear.”

  “Very well.”

  Piper’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine. I had the sense she was looking for something. She didn’t seem to find it because she gave me what I considered a sad smile before turning away and making for the stairs. I watched her ascend and disappear through the arch at the top of the stairs before falling back into my seat.

  December was going to be a very long month indeed.

  Chapter 5

  Piper

  Camden was moving around down the hall in his bedroom. I could hear drawers sliding open and closed. His closet doors must have been huge because they slid across the tracks for long stretches of time. He bumped into something and cursed under his breath as I stepped out into the hall in a pair of Christmas-printed pajama pants and a red T-shirt. His place was warm and cozy, but I still liked to wear slippers. I’d brought my Christmas ones with me for the month. They were fuzzy and red with sparkly patterns of holly on them.

  I was about to move down the hall when Camden’s bedroom door swung open. He came out into the hall and didn’t notice I was there until he was practically on top of me.

  “Oh,” he said, blinking at me in surprise. “Piper, I didn’t know you were up.”

  It was seven o’clock on Saturday morning. Had I not heard him in his room, I might have still been asleep. Then again, I was an early riser, especially when I was sleeping in an unfamiliar place.

  “I was about to head down and make some coffee,” I said. “Can I fix you a cup?”

  Camden raked his fingers through his hair. “No. No, that’s all right. I’m afraid I’m running a bit late this morning.”

  “Work?”

  He nodded. “Yes. No rest for the wicked.”

  Of course not.

  I’d been at his house for a full week. It was Saturday, December seventh, and he and I had yet to sit down to a meal together or spend any real amount of time together besides the short forty-five minutes to an hour he spent with me after coming home from work.

  To be honest, those forty-five minutes were usually the least enjoyable minutes of the day.

  There was nothing between us. No spark. No connection. We were two very different people with very different lives, and we couldn’t find common ground on anything.

  I supposed we weren’t trying very hard, but still.

  Camden brushed past me and descended the stairs. I followed, my fingers trailing over the iron railing.

  “Will you be home late again?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Unfortunately. Feel free to order yourself something for dinner.”

  “I prefer to cook.”

  He nodded as he went down the hall to the elevator. In the closet to the right, he pulled out a black jacket that went down to his knees. He adjusted the collar before plucking a scarf from the depths of the closet and draping it around his neck. The black and forest-green plaid suited him. Had there been any semblance of kinship between us, I might have told him so.

  “All right,” he said. “Well, help yourself to anything in the fridge. Like I said, the place is all—”

  “Mine. I know. Thank you.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile and dipped his chin. “See you tonight.”

  I didn’t say anything. He got on the elevator, and I was already heading for the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee as the doors closed.

  The week had gone by at a snail’s pace, and I doubted things were likely to improve as Christmas drew nearer. There was a general sense of unease every time the holiday came up around Camden, and I had the distinct impression that he was, despite how much I hated thinking it, the absolute definition of a Scrooge.

  I cursed my dumb luck for putting me in his company during my favorite month and his least favorite. I’d spent countless hours imagining how romantic December would have been with some of the other men.

  It was easy to picture myself back at Max’s place. When I closed my eyes, I could see us hanging ornaments on a magnificent tree while sipping spiked eggnog or cider. I could feel his hand on the small of my back, his lips against my cheek, as we stood back to admire our festive decor.

  Christmas in Quebec with Joshua would have been incredible, too. The city would be dripping with magic. Joshua’s home would be a warm and safe place to land at the end of long days out in the snow.

  If I was with Levi, I envisioned us in his studio composing silly Christmas songs together. Maybe he’d sing one or two at a concert.

  And Christmas on Wyatt’s ranch?

  Well, that was a place I wish I could have seen at Christmas.

  I sighed as I thought of the rolling hills surrounding the property. There would be no snow in Austin, but the hills would be sparse and their colors muted as winter tightened its grip on the land. The main house would be done up in multicolored lights. I saw a Christmas tree sparkling in the grand window of the living room. Garland would be draped along the front porch, and I saw a white star strung up on the front of the new barn I hadn’t ever had the pleasure of seeing after the fire.

  Another sigh took me, and I pushed the thoughts of the ranch away.

  I was here. In New York. In the anti-Christmas penthouse of one of the richest men in the country. What d
id I have to complain about?

  “A tree would make such a difference,” I muttered to myself as I poured my coffee.

  But I doubted Camden owned a single Christmas decoration. Perhaps he didn’t celebrate at all. Perhaps he was too much of a clean freak to indulge in a holiday that could be very cluttered.

  I sipped my coffee. It was rich and hot and everything I needed, but I pined for a cinnamon-flavored coffee creamer. Or candy cane. I was out of sorts, missing out on traditions and flavors that had become such a part of the holidays for me. A week had already slipped by, and there was no sign of Christmas anywhere unless I stood at the windows and looked down at the city.

  I hated to think of spending Christmas here. For all I knew, I’d be spending it alone. At the rate Camden and I were going, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

  The day wasted away. Hours ticked by, and I entertained myself with my books, a Christmas special on TV, and some mindless online shopping for gifts I didn’t have the money to buy this year. I lasted as long as possible before caving.

  At six-thirty in the evening, I called Jackson Lee.

  “Piper,” he said, his voice warm. Wherever he was, a Christmas movie was playing in the background. It sounded childish, and I assumed he was at home with his family. “How are you?”

  “I’m good,” I said. “And you?”

  “Aside from watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for the eighth time in three days, I’m doing well. What can I help you with?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. There had to be a delicate way to ask what I wanted to ask, a way that wouldn’t throw Camden under the bus. “I was wondering if I could speak to you about the holidays.”

  “By all means.”

  “Well,” I said slowly. “You see, I’ve never spent Christmas away from my family. And I was just curious how it worked since I’m with Camden this month. Am I required to stay here with him? Or will I have a chance to spend some time with my family?”