Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(19)

“I was wearing yoga pants and gym shoes.” Cameron scoffed. “I might as well have been naked.”

“Certainly would’ve made for a more interesting interrogation.”

Collin sat back in his chair, all haughty manlike. “You and your high heels. You’re lucky you weren’t still in your underwear. Between that and being interrogated in your gym shoes, which would you prefer?”

Cameron thought about this. “Do I still get to wear high heels in the underwear scenario?”

“That was supposed to be a rhetorical question. You have a problem,” Collin said.

Cameron smiled. “So I like to vertically enhance . . . I’m a five-foot-three-inch trial lawyer. Cut me some slack.”

AMY LEFT APOLOGETICALLY as soon as dinner was over, saying that she needed to get up early the following morning to meet with her florist. Cameron and Collin stayed at the restaurant for another round of drinks, then walked the five blocks to her house.

It was a crisp October evening. Cameron pulled her jacket closed, belting it at her waist. “I’m not sure Amy’s going to make it to the wedding without having a nervous breakdown. I keep telling her to let me help out more.”

“You know how she is—she’s been planning this since she was five,” Collin said. “Speaking of planning, how’s the bachelorette party coming along?”

“Her cousins think we need a stripper,” Cameron said, referring to the other two bridesmaids. “But Amy practically made me swear an oath in blood: no strippers, no tacky wedding veil, and absolutely no penis paraphernalia. So I’m doing a wine tasting and desserts at my house, and then we’ll go to a bar afterward. I hope she likes it. If she fires me as maid of honor, you have to take on the job, you know.”

Collin threw his arm around her shoulders. “Not in a million years, babe.”

Cameron smiled and leaned against him, taking comfort in the firm solidness of his chest. In turn, Collin pulled her tighter, turning serious. “You know we were just kidding around at the restaurant, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“Because we’re very both worried about you.”

“I know that, too.”

They came to a stop in front of her house. Collin faced her, and she could see the worry in his hazel eyes. “Seriously, Cam—you were an eyewitness, earwitness, whatever you want to call it, to a murder. And you saw the killer leave. I hate to go down this road but . . . is there any chance he knew you were watching?”

Cameron had asked herself this very question several times over the course of the last twelve hours. “I was behind the door the whole time. And even if he heard me or somehow otherwise suspected I was watching, there’s no way he’d know my identity. The FBI and CPD have kept my name confidential.”

“Not exactly a good night for you, was it?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Collin cocked his head in the direction of her house. “So, then . . . would you like some company tonight?”

Cameron thought about it. After the bizarre occurrences of the night before, the idea of spending the night alone in that big house was not particularly appealing. But she knew that if Collin stayed, there would be problems. “Thanks for offering. But Richard already thinks you spend too much time with me. I’ll be okay by myself.”

There was a flicker of emotion in Collin’s eyes. “Actually, Richard and I decided to take a break.”

Cameron was shocked. She knew they’d been having problems—personally she blamed Richard; he’d always been a little arrogant and strangely unappreciative of Collin, whom half the male population in Chicago practically worshipped—but the two of them had been together for three years and she just assumed they’d work things out.

“When did this happen?” she asked.

“Last night. He said he changed his mind about going to Amy’s wedding. He used the old ‘But-I’ll-be-uncomfortable’ excuse, but really he just didn’t want to sacrifice a whole weekend in Michigan.” Collin emphasized this last part in mock horror. “I told him that the wedding is at a nice hotel, but you know him—if it’s not a Four Seasons, he thinks he’s roughing it. Anyway, we argued about that, and then we argued about a lot of things, and now . . . well, here we are.”

“Do you think there’s any chance it’ll all blow over in a few days?” Cameron asked gently.

Collin shook his head. “If he can’t do this for me, then no. He knows what this wedding means to me, and I think that’s the problem. It’s all part of his stupid competition with you and Amy. So he’s moving his stuff out of the condo tonight. Probably right at this very moment.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Cameron hugged him. “So I guess the real question is: do you want some company tonight?”

“Yes.” Collin held open the gate for her. “But you have to promise to get me very drunk.”

Cameron walked up the steps. “As long as you promise to still make breakfast in the morning.”

“Babe, I always make breakfast. You can’t even warm an Eggo.”

“That was one time.” Their senior year, and Collin had never let her live it down. “The stupid box said one to two cycles—I did two cycles. How the toaster caught on fire is just as big a mystery to me.”