The Paid Bridesmaid(48)

“I don’t know what to think.”

Why couldn’t I let this go? Maybe it was because I actually was lying to him and in this one area, at least, I wanted him to know the truth. “Why does it matter so much?”

“Because if you were a spy, and you found out things about us, you could sabotage us going public. We would lose the confidence of our investors if anyone stole our secrets—they’d think that our security was lax and that we were an easy target. It would devalue us, making our stock price drop, and I won’t let that happen.”

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else,” I told him. That at least was honest.

I could feel him studying me, as if he wasn’t sure what to believe. “I think there’s something there. Something you’re keeping secret. I understand that your secrets are none of my business—”

“Kind of feels like you don’t. And while I respect your bachelor’s degree from I’m Entitled to Know Everything University, not everything is about you.” I’d hoped that confessing would throw him off the scent, but he was like some determined bloodhound, knowing there was something else to uncover.

If I could just keep my distance, this would all be fine. If I could storm off and be (rightfully) angry with him for prying, things might possibly get better.

Then he messed it all up. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

I turned to look at him and his eyes were like liquid green fire, burning hotter and brighter than the campfire next to us.

Say no. Make that chasm grow. Stretch the divide between you. This is your chance, I tried telling myself.

There was no part of me that wanted to listen.

“Can I have everybody’s attention?” Hank, the director for the film crews, called out. “We would like you guys to start off by having a pillow fight.”

One of his assistants started passing out pillows. I held mine by the edge. “Are you serious? We’re not twelve.”

Normally I wouldn’t be so snappish, but I was currently wrestling internally with myself and neither side of me was pleased at being interrupted. There was what I had to do and what I wanted to do.

None of those included having a pillow fight.

“The viewers will love it,” Hank said. “We’ll edit it so that it looks really fun.” He directed us to get into a circle. We all stood there, loosely holding our pillows. I could feel my dignity draining from my body.

“We got this,” Camden said as he moved to my left. “We’re going to win.”

Hank yelled out, “Go!”

“I don’t think it’s a competition.” But my words were swallowed up by Dan swinging his pillow at Camden’s head, hard.

He ducked and the pillow glanced off my shoulder.

Camden turned toward me, looking utterly delighted. “You’ve got my back?”

Nodding, I said, “I do.”

I should have blown him off and moved closer to the other bridesmaids. But it was like I couldn’t stay away from him.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


One of Hank’s assistants was throwing feathers at us as everyone started swinging their pillows in earnest. The men seemed much more into it, but the women quickly caught up. Camden stayed in position near my elbow, fending off potential attacks.

Despite me feeling stupid initially, and the blizzard of white feathers blinding us, I found myself squealing and laughing with everyone else. The men were enthusiastically raining blows down on each other, until Camden’s phone rang.

He gave me that “sorry” expression of his and abandoned the battle, heading off into the night to take his call.

It surprised me that he left. He seemed to be having a good time.

Not to mention—selfishly—that it was not good for me that he’d taken off. Without him there as my wingman, I was getting pummeled by the other members of the bridal party. Mary-Ellen in particular seemed to take a huge amount of delight in whacking me.

Hank yelled, “Cut!” and Mary-Ellen got in one last lick before she set her pillow off to the side. “Bring in the chairs, and let’s get the s’mores going.”

Finally. Something I’d be good at.

The assistants brought in a bunch of white Adirondack chairs, seating them around the fire. Somehow I got downwind of the fire and it kept blowing smoke at me. I tried to scoot my chair over, but was blocked by the empty one. I dragged the empty one farther toward where Dan and Sadie sat.

“Trying to move my chair away from you?” Camden asked when he returned.

“No, just trying to get clear of the smoke. I like having eyeballs, thanks.”

He smiled and pulled my chair closer to his, out of the smoke. I wondered why they hadn’t set up the chairs so we were all seated together, but it was like Camden and I were in our own tiny little bubble.

He took his phone out of his pocket and started responding to a text.

“Was it really that important?” I asked him, not able to keep my opinions to myself like I should have.

“What?”

“The phone call. I know you’re busy and have a lot going on, but Dan’s only getting married once. He’s counting on you. You should be here for it.”

Camden put his phone back. “I am here.”