The Real(84)

“Good to hear, I’ve been anxious to have a more in-depth conversation other than online and phone calls. Let me buy you a drink.” He motioned for the bartender and that was when I saw Cameron appear from a table just behind the small staircase.

“And old pro huh? Funny, I got a different impression.” A slight slur accompanied his words as he came into full view.

My chest screamed as I got a whiff of his cologne. He was dressed in his well-fitted suit and wool trench coat. My lips parted when he glanced my way, his eyes full of fire and accusation. I went pale as he slid out a free chair at our table and leaned in on it. Terry drew confused brows as I stood, momentarily speechless.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Cameron who was slightly disheveled, his tie loose at his collar. His hair looked like he’d been running fingers through it and hadn’t shaved in days. A shadow coasted along his features as I sank back in my seat, my insides coming apart at his nearness.

Cameron went on, his gaze lingering on me before he addressed Terry. “I couldn’t help overhearing and I’m sorry for the interruption.” He spoke that time with a definite slur. “But I’m in need of an opinion.”

“Please don’t,” I said leaning in on a whisper. My whole body jerked when his green eyes flew to mine. “Hi.”

It took every bit of my willpower not to cry.

“Humor me, please,” he asked, his attention back on Terry. He was intimidating as he loomed over the table, his jaw ticking, his posture stone. “For the sake of argument, I would love to run a scenario by you and then I’ll let you continue your time with this stinging woman.”

“You mean stunning?” Terry said seeming to clue himself in on the situation by the amount of a tension in the air. Though I was mortified he seemed oddly amused as his eyes flicked between Cameron and me. “So, what do you say . . .?”

“Terry,” he offered.

“Terry, thank you Terry, nice to meet you,” he said as he nearly tripped over the leg of the chair making himself at home before extending his hand. Terry took it and they shook across the space.

“Cameron,” I said on a bark, “this isn’t an appropriate time.”

He ignored me completely. “Just hear me out,” he said to Terry.

“Let’s hear him out Abbie,” Terry said with a wink my way. I cringed. Cameron’s eyes flared, but he went on.

“Let’s say you met this stunning woman, and you agree to take things slow, but there are rules.”

“I’m following,” Terry said crossing his arms.

“Nice suit,” Cameron remarked.

“Armani,” Terry said.

“Of course,” Cameron said dryly. “Anyway, the rules are that you both have to leave your baggage at the door. No personal history, no ex talks whatsoever.”

“Okay,” Terry said.

“And let’s say this woman was so beautiful, so engaging that you couldn’t resist giving into her demands, that you would channel the patience of fucking Job for a chance to get to know her, because trust me, you’d need the patience of God’s forsaken to get to her.”

“Cameron,” I grit out.

“But maybe in this scenario,” he said taking a long pull of his drink, “you’re in a type of prison.”

“Prison?” Terry asked as I white-knuckled the edge of the table.

“Yes, a living hell, one you can’t see your way out of. And then this woman smiles at you, and you think to yourself, ‘maybe I’m not one of God’s forsaken’. Maybe, just maybe, life’s worth living.”

“That good?” Terry asked.

“Better than you can ever imagine,” Cameron said tossing back a piece of ice from his glass and crunching it obnoxiously. “Infinitely better.”

I pressed my lips together to keep my chin from wobbling.

“Okay,” Terry said. “But you can’t tell her that?”

“About the prison? Oh, no,” Cameron said as a cross smile graced his face and he shook his head at Terry with wide eyes. “Her rules.”

“Terry, we should go,” I said standing.

“I’m almost finished,” Cameron said his voice so raw I couldn’t look away. He continued to speak with our eyes locked.

“And maybe you fall in love with her, and she’s the closest goddamn thing to perfect you’ve ever known. Your secrets are killing you, but your happiness is finally there, it’s finally there to the point you can touch it, taste it, you can see life differently with her.”

“Is this woman happy too?” Terry asked looking pointedly at me. I pressed my lips together.

“Oh definitely. Things are so good, neither of you can imagine life without the other.” His voice cracked slightly with his words.

“Please,” I pleaded softly, and neither of them heard over the noise of the crowd. Cameron had sent a picture every day.

The first was a shot of us on the Skydeck and the ones that followed devastated me. The two of us after a run in the woods, in the limo before the dance, for some reason that one hurt the most. I was kissing his cheek, eyes closed as he smiled for the camera.

I’d saved them all but couldn’t bring myself to text back. He’d documented almost every one of our days together and was tearing me apart with the reminders of just how good things were.