Crazy about Cameron: The Winslow Brothers #3(47)

“Have you seen the weather? It’s raining cats and dogs outside.”

Entering the grand dining room at Westerly, Cameron beelined for his mother’s seat at the head of the table and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Sorry I’m late, Mum.”

“You could have called, Cameron Pembroke.”

Like the rest of his brothers’, his middle name had been taken from the names of the colleges at the University of Cambridge, where his parents had met a hundred years ago. He slapped Preston Downing and Christopher Sussex on their backs before taking his seat and grinning at his mother. “Don’t tell me you were worried.”

“About you? Unlikely. You’re my cat with nine lives who always lands on his feet.”

“And what am I?” asked Preston.

“Less moody than you were a few weeks ago,” answered Olivia smoothly, gesturing to the maid to serve the soup.

Cameron looked across the table at Christopher. “How goes the campaign?”

Christopher shrugged. “Running for controller was simpler, that’s for damn certain.”

“Yes, but you’ll get more girls as a congressman,” said Jessica, grinning at him as she took a slurp of soup. “And we all know how important ass is to you.”

“Don’t be disgusting, dear,” said Olivia.

“Sorry, Mummy,” said Jessica, sticking her tongue out at Christopher, who snickered.

“Cameron, not that I don’t love an excuse to have four of my five children around a table for dinner, but you’ve piqued my curiosity by calling us all together.”

Cameron took another sip of soup and put down his spoon. “It’s C & C Winslow. I’m selling it.”

Typical of his mother’s stiff-upper-lip character, her face didn’t register any emotion upon hearing this news, but she did lift her chin a hair. “Oh?”

Christopher’s spoon clattered across the table, and Cameron jerked his head to look at his little brother. “What the hell, Cam?”

“It was Dad’s company,” said Preston softly, looking at Cameron with wounded eyes.

Cameron turned his glance to Jessica, who gave him a sympathetic smile before casting her gaze down at her soup.

“Why?” asked his mother.

Cameron looked at her, then shifted his eyes to Christopher. “You know how many accounts we’d pulled in. It was too much for one person.”

“So hire someone! Don’t sell it!”

Cameron felt his temper rising and tried to keep it in check. “You hire someone. How about that, Chris? You quit the election, you come to C & C Winslow, and you hire someone to give you a hand.”

Christopher narrowed his eyes before looking down at the table. He withdrew his napkin from his lap and slapped it on the table. “I’ve lost my appetite, Mum.”

“Calm down, Christopher,” said Olivia.

“There’s no way to salvage it?” asked Preston.

“You want it?” asked Cameron.

Preston shook his head. “No.”

Cameron looked at Chris. “You?”

“You know I’m locked into an election. I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to.”

“And yet you did,” said Olivia gently. “You chose to run for office and leave C & C Winslow to your brother.”

“Cam,” said Jess. “What are you going to do?”

He turned to face his sister. “I’m going to sell it to English & Sons for thirty-five million dollars. We’ll each take seven.”

Her face, which had been sad, suddenly brightened. “Oh, well, that’s wonderful.”

“I didn’t realize you were so mercenary, Jess,” said Preston, shaking his head with disappointment. “Doesn’t your trust fund cover your expenses?”

“Mercenary?” she exclaimed. “My feelings have nothing to do with money. I’m happy Cameron found a way to keep the business in the family.”

“The family? How’s that, Jess?” demanded Christopher.

“Because one day Alex and I will have children. And those children, half English and half Winslow, will have the option of working for English & Sons, a company that was partially built by their grandfather Taylor Winslow.” She smiled gently at Cameron. “It was the perfect solution, Cam. I love it.”

“Jessica makes an excellent point,” said Olivia. “Well done, Cameron.”

Cameron took a deep breath and exhaled, looking across the table at his brothers. “Can you two live with it?”

Preston nodded. “I never had much interest in it. I hate to see it sold, of course, but if it’s going to anyone, I’m glad it’s the Englishes.”

Cameron turned to his younger brother. “Chris?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Not really.”

“Then I guess it doesn’t matter.” Christopher looked at his mother. “Please excuse me.” Then he got up and left the table.

Olivia gave Cameron a small, tired smile and reached out her hand to him. “Give him time. He feels bad that he couldn’t save it while he attempts to save the world instead.”

“I know,” said Cameron, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry too. But I wasn’t happy, Mum, and I finally figured out a way I can be.”