Chapter Twenty-Two
Late September
Cameron stared at her computer monitor, growing angrier and angrier as she paged through one photo after another. She’d been both pissed off and deeply hurt when Nathan had removed her from his list of Facebook friends, not to mention blocking her email address and changing his phone numbers. But she was still friends with several of their mutual acquaintances, including Matt and Jada Wright. The photos that Cameron was currently fuming over had been taken at Jada’s thirtieth birthday party, and several of them featured Nathan and his little bitch Julia.
She snarled at the shot of them with their arms wrapped around each other, smiling happily for the camera. She cursed both of them vividly when she saw the photo of Julia sitting on Nathan’s lap, her arms entwined around his neck. But the picture that caused her to throw her wine glass against the wall was a candid one that had caught the lovebirds kissing passionately.
“Fucking boyfriend-stealing bitch!” she screamed, her rage growing in leaps and bounds. “You are so going to pay for this, you skank!”
It had been almost three months now since Nathan had broken their engagement, and her heart along with it. But Cameron was no closer to getting over it today than she had been back in June. When her other two engagements had ended, she hadn’t wasted any time in going back on the prowl, looking for a new boyfriend. This time was different.
Her sister and girlfriends had tried their best to cheer her up and help her get over the heartache. But nothing had helped – dinners out, barhopping, shopping trips, spa days. Stephanie had convinced her to spend a long weekend in Palm Springs, but Cameron had been morose and despondent the whole time, and spent most of it drinking.
She’d been drinking a lot lately, truth be told, and it was starting to show in her puffy face and bloodshot eyes. At the same time she had no appetite and was skinnier than ever. She hadn’t bothered to cut her hair or have the color touched up for weeks now, and her brown roots were really showing. She’d missed several manicure appointments, and her nails looked appalling. But none of that mattered to her. All she could dwell on, day after day, was how miserable she was, how betrayed she felt, how alone she was. She despaired of ever finding a man, of being married or being happy. She had no interest in dating, or even having a one-night stand. Instead, she was obsessed with finding a way to get Nathan back, and to exact her well-deserved revenge on Julia.
But since Nathan had virtually cut off all ties with her, and made it extremely difficult to see or talk to him, her frustration mounted daily. She had started toying with the idea of hiring a private detective to shadow Nathan’s daily activities so that she would know where to find him. But even in her highly emotional state, Cameron realized just how desperate that idea was and had nixed it.
It wasn’t out of the question, however, for her to follow him by herself. She could hang outside his condo undetected and wait for him to emerge, or linger outside his office building when he left work. If she was discreet, he would never notice her. And then, when the time felt right, she could approach him and tell him how much she still loved him, how much she needed to be with him, and how happy they could still be together.
Cameron felt a little calmer now that she had some semblance of a plan. It would mean spending even more time away from the gallery, but that was why she paid her employees so well. What was the point of being the boss if she couldn’t make her own hours?
She would begin the next day, waiting outside the parking garage next to Nathan’s office building for his car to exit. Then she would follow him in her own vehicle, and hope the opportunity presented itself to talk to him. One way or the other, she would find a way to get Julia out of his life and resume her rightful place as Nathan’s fiancée.
“I love to watch you eat.”
Julia looked up self-consciously at Nathan’s comment, aware that her cheeks were currently stuffed full of mushroom risotto. She swallowed carefully and took a sip of her wine to wash it down before asking him warily, “Uh, and why is that?”
He grinned, chucking her playfully on the chin. “Because you get such enjoyment from whatever you eat. It’s almost like a sexual experience to watch you sometimes, the way you moan in pleasure and lick your lips. I’m more than a little turned on right now.”
She laughed. “You want me to re-enact the famous orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally? That’s one of my favorite movies of all time. I think I know that scene word for word.”
He glanced around the crowded restaurant uncertainly. “Um, better not. But you can have a real orgasm when we get back to my place.”
“Is that a guarantee? You’re very confident in your abilities, aren’t you?” she challenged.
He clasped her hand. “Where you’re concerned, yes. Just consider me your sex slave, baby. My sole purpose in life is to give you pleasure.”
Her green eyes twinkled merrily. “Well, if that’s the case, I want at least three orgasms tonight – slave.”
“Ah, a tall order, my lady, but your loyal slave will do his utmost to satisfy you.”
They laughed at their silly little role playing, before resuming their meal. Because they had worked so late, Julia hadn’t argued for once when Nathan had insisted on going out to dinner. She cooked as often as possible, especially at his condo where she adored the spacious kitchen and professional grade appliances. His formerly austere kitchen now held an ever increasing inventory of pots, pans, utensils, spices and food. They divided their time almost equally between their two places, not having made much progress in finding a larger place so they could officially move in together.
Nathan made a mental note to contact one of his friends who was a property manager to see if he could help them find a larger place to rent. He had already decided to rent out his condo, and would eventually sell it when – and if – the dream home in Tiburon got built.
They were just finishing up their meal when Julia froze, an expression of alarm on her features. He frowned, but before he could ask what was wrong, the sound of an all-too-familiar voice answered his own questions.
“Well, look who’s here. My backstabbing ex-fiancé and his boyfriend-stealing little bitch.”
Cameron’s voice could have cut glass, and the look on her face was one of pure hatred. Nathan stared at her in shock, for the woman hovering menacingly over their table bore little resemblance to the sleek, sophisticated woman he’d dated for two years. Cameron was scary-skinny, her face gaunt with dark circles under her eyes. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, or it had already worn off, and her hair was lank and limp, as though she hadn’t washed it for days. Her skirt and blouse were wrinkled and hung loosely on her body. But what really concerned Nathan was the almost manic look in her eyes.
He tried valiantly to keep things calm, speaking in a soft, gentle voice. “Cameron, what are you doing here? Are you having dinner with someone?”
Cameron looked from him to Julia and back again, her agitation mounting. “No. I just walked by and saw you through the window.”
Nathan frowned, for their table was set far back in a corner, and it would have been extremely difficult to see them from the sidewalk. Tactfully, though, he decided not to push the issue, especially since he now feared that Cameron had followed them here from the office.
“Was there something you wanted?” he asked politely.
Cameron’s mouth curled up into an expression that resembled a snarl. “Yes. I want things to go back to the way they were before this whore stole you away from me. I want my fiancé back. And I’m going to make sure it happens.”
Nathan flinched, especially when the ever-increasing volume of her voice started attracting stares from other diners. “Cam, this really isn’t the time or place to have this discussion,” he told her firmly. “Don’t make a scene, okay?”
“A scene?” she screeched. “I’ll make a goddamn scene if I goddamn feel like it! Here – how’s this for a scene?”
In a flash, she’d picked up Nathan’s half-empty wine glass and flung the liquid in Julia’s face. Aware of all the gasps and stares coming from the surrounding tables, as well as the distress on Julia’s face, he surged to his feet and grabbed Cameron’s forearm.
“You need to get out of here now,” he hissed. “You’re way out of line. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again, Cameron. You need to leave us alone.”
“Screw you both!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “I’ll leave when I’m fucking ready to leave. Let go of me, you bastard!”
Fortunately, the maitre‘d and two waiters were hurriedly approaching the table, and Nathan was all too happy to have them forcibly escort an irate Cameron from the premises. His legs were shaking as he took his seat, and he could finally tend to Julia.
She was trembling, and tears had pooled in her eyes. She’d blotted up the wine from her face and dress, and had wrapped her arms around herself. Tenderly, he tilted her chin up.
“Are you okay, baby?” he murmured in concern. “God, what a disaster that was. I’m so sorry.”
Julia shook her head. “It’s okay, not your fault. How could you possibly have known she’d show up here?”
Nathan hesitated before sharing his concerns with her. “I think she might have followed us here after work,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to tell you this because frankly I thought I was probably just imagining it. But I think she’s been stalking us a bit over the past couple of weeks.”
“What?” Julia’s eyes went wide with shock. “Oh, my God, that’s crazy. Why do you think that?”
“Now that I think of it, I swear I’ve seen someone resembling her hanging outside both the office and the condo a few times recently. I put it down to coincidence or paranoia, but after this incident I’m pretty sure it was her.”
“What can we do about it?” she asked in a worried tone.
“Not sure exactly. Tonight was the first time she’s actually approached either of us, so hopefully she’ll leave us alone from here on end. If she does start harassing us, though, we call the police and get a restraining order. Right now we can’t do much, I’m afraid. Just be aware and if you do see her try your best to avoid a confrontation.”
Julia glared. “She’s damned lucky that was white wine she doused me with, not red. And the bitch had better hope the dry cleaner can get the stain out of this dress. It’s Donna Karan, you know, and one of my new favorites.”
He chuckled, admiring anew how hot she looked in the camel colored dress with its little cap sleeves and draped neckline that revealed a tantalizing bit of cleavage. “Baby, how do you keep track of all that stuff in your closet? Your aunt sends you stuff faster than you can wear it.”
“Its Fashion Week time of year,” she explained. “All of the designers are showing their spring collections, so Aunt Maddy is getting tons of stuff sent her way. Therefore, I’m getting tons of stuff sent my way.”
“We’re definitely going to need a separate room just for your clothes and shoes.”
Julia was about to make a retort when the maître‘d approached their table, apologizing profusely for having let Cameron slip past him.
“I’m so sorry, madam, sir,” he told them earnestly. “I could sense that the lady was in something of a state, but I was busy helping other customers and she just walked in. Are you both all right? Can I offer you a glass of wine, perhaps, to calm the nerves?”
Julia shuddered. “Not wine, no.”
“I think maybe just some hot tea for the lady. And a brandy for me,” added Nathan. “And I apologize as well for the scene she caused. It was very unexpected.”
The maître‘d assured him it was no problem, and summoned a waiter to get their drinks.
“I didn’t think to ask. Did you want dessert?”
She shook her head at Nathan’s questions. “No. This pretty much ruined my appetite. And that’s a real shame because I saw chocolate cream pie on the menu.”
He grinned. “We’ll get two slices to go. Hopefully your appetite will return later tonight. Otherwise the pie will keep until tomorrow.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I knew there was a reason I loved you besides your hot body and your ability to give me multiple orgasms. Speaking of which – that particular appetite hasn’t been affected.”
He squeezed her hand. “Well, that’s a relief. Good to know a crazy ex-girlfriend doesn’t impair your libido.”
“Honey, I think you’d have to go bald, gain fifty pounds, and eat whole cloves of garlic in order to impair my libido,” she joked. “So let’s order that pie so you can start working on those three orgasms you promised me.”