Colton (Found by You Book 7) Page 9

  If anything for my sake.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cami

  “Tommy, I really don’t have time to talk right now,” I said to him, taking the last box of my stuff out to my car. I passed Irene on the way, Colton’s housekeeper nodding at me. I didn’t miss how she stood at the door during every pass I made by her.

  Or how her eyes were somber each time.

  Her hand lifted when I made it to my car that final time, waving, and she only closed the door to Colton’s place after I got inside my Jetta. Her head down, she seemingly let go of the situation. She let go of me, and I guess I had to let go of everything too. I didn’t know what the future held for my boss and me.

  But I did know what the future held for Colton and me.

  I was enacting that future as I started the car. Touching the dials, I transferred my call from my headset to my car’s speakers. Tommy had called right as I’d been about to leave Colton’s house for a new place to stay.

  “I get it. You’re busy, but you’re not too busy for this,” Tommy said, all of what he stated basically one breath. “It concerns Mr. Chandler and—”

  I hated that he got my attention upon mentioning Colton. I hated that I cared, and closing my eyes, I pushed some of my curls behind my ear.

  “Whatever it is about him can wait until tomorrow,” I said, tossing my head back into my seat. “I’ve got too much on my mind right now.”

  And one of those things concerned finding a hotel. I’d be staying in one until my apartment got fixed, and after that, I didn’t know because, honestly, going back to that place was the last thing I wanted right now. Another thing I didn’t want was to go back to work tomorrow. I’d be facing repercussions for leaving Colton’s house without saying a word. They wouldn’t be monetary or disciplinary but consequences just the same. He’d want to talk about… things.

  Not ready for that, I shifted my attention to Tommy. He was still going a mile a minute about Colton, and giving up, I crossed my arms and sat back.

  “Slow down,” I said. “One more time again. I’m listening now.”

  “Good, because it’s important,” he huffed. “Remember those charity vouchers I was working on? For Mr. Chandler?”

  The fact that he continued to call Colton that when the man told him time and time again to use his name made me lift my eyes to the ceiling.

  “Of course I remember,” I said. “What about them?”

  “Well, I was looking over things again tonight and um… one of them is fake.”

  “Fake?” I shot off the seat, my eyes widening. He definitely gotten my attention. “Fake? How so?”

  “How about in every way, Cam,” he told me, his voice really going a mile a minute at this point. He breathed deeply. “He’s been paying out on it for about a year. It’s called Project Margaret, and I can’t find any evidence that it’s a reputable charity of any kind. The funds even filter to a personal bank account. That’s what set off red flags and allowed me to find it.”

  How had I missed that? I’d been the one to do the vouchers for Colton before Tommy had, and I wouldn’t have missed such a thing.

  You would if you’d been distracted by your boss, obsessed.

  And maybe I had been a little back then. Maybe I had been the entire time while working for him and just didn’t know it. I passed the feelings and intentions off as actual work when, in the back of my mind, I held a fascination with him that hadn’t made itself known to me. I’d fallen into the trap most women had around him, and it was easy to do. He could be entirely too sweet sometimes and thoughtful. I mean, he even opened his house to me, and like I said, he’d always been kind. It got to me in ways that cracked the professional level, and I betrayed myself with him. I betrayed everything I stood for when coming here. I wanted a clean slate upon arrival to LA when all I ended up doing was recreating history in a new place.

  It was a history that sobered me when I reached behind and grabbed my laptop from the back seat. Sitting in Colton’s gated driveway, I opened it.

  “Did you Google it?” I asked him, typing in my password. “Call the bank? Ask about the account?”

  Because I really didn’t believe it. Colton Chandler didn’t have a fraudulent bone in his body, and that’s what this could boil down to come tax time.

  “Done and done,” Tommy went on, a slow panic in his voice. He knew the reality of all this too. Calling something a charity on the books when it wasn’t could lead to nothing good. “It isn’t real, Cami. I looked. I left no stone unturned. Project Margaret is a fake, and Colton’s put hundreds upon thousands of dollars into it. I don’t know if it’s a private contribution he’s doing and doesn’t want it advertised—”

  “It has to be that, yes,” I said, also finding nothing about this charity as I searched. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Either way, it’s fraud,” he used the word. Right in my ear. “I won’t pay that one this month until you can look into it more. Will you ask him about it?”

  I didn’t know if I felt comfortable enough, but I probably should. If anything so Colton could defend himself. I didn’t owe him anything, but I did believe in him and the person he was. I just couldn’t help it.

  Maybe I was obsessed.

  Letting Tommy go, I thanked him for the knowledge, then pulled away from the curb. I’d just left when another call came in.

  “Hello?” I questioned, the epitome of mind-fucked. My thoughts still consumed by Tommy’s call and everything else before that I was more than frazzled. “I’m sorry. Who is this?”

  The number had been unlisted when I answered.

  “I’m sorry. I’m Jonathan Parker, manager and part owner of The Luxe.”

  “The Luxe?” I asked. “As in the bar?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Exactly that. You’re a Ms. Camille, right? Personal assistant to Mr. Colton Chandler? He told us as such, told us to call you.”

  My foot slammed the breaks at a red light. “Um, yeah, that’s me. What’s going on? Is Colton okay?”

  “He’s fine, Ms. Camille,” he said, which only let me breathe a little. I mean, the man had called me because of Colton after all. Mr. Parker sighed heavily into the phone. “The problem resides in the disturbance he’s caused. We had to take his keys and—”

  “His keys? Why?”

  “Well, because he’s drunk, Ms. Camille,” he stated, sobering me. “He’s drunk, and as one of our more valued patrons, we felt it was important to see he was properly taken care of to get home. We offered to provide personal transportation for him, but he’s adamant about not taking it. We hoped to have better luck with a personal contact. With some prompting he did allow us access to his phone, to get a number and call you. He’d only let us call you.”

  I closed my eyes, the light thankfully red. When some honks sounded behind me, I knew it wasn’t any longer, and I peeled into traffic, typing the bar’s location into the navigation system.

  “I’ll be right there,” I told the man, thanking him for calling me. I was glad he called me and not anyone else because at this point?

  I might be the only person in this city to get through to him.

  *

  I had the manager shut down Colton’s section of the bar for privacy purposes. The Luxe was basically the paps’ stomping grounds considering how many celebrities moved in and out of it, and as I’d been told Colton was in one of the VIP sections. That made closing it off easy. They restricted his area and would do so long enough for me to get him out. After that…

  Well, I didn’t know. I had no idea what was going on with someone I thought I was really starting to know. I had worked with Colton closely and even closer in the past few months. He trusted me, and I had been starting to trust him, but each and every passing day and hour seemed to give me a reason not to. He was a man of his own thoughts, actions, and keeping them close to the vest, he didn’t allow me to be privy to any of it. He didn’t allow anyone to be, his secrets only with him. I didn�
��t know who he was turning into or if he’d always been that person, and when the manager pushed the double doors open, I got to see another side. I saw Colton hunched, slumped over a tumbler glass while he sat in a privacy booth. I saw Colton at a heavy low, and when he lifted that glass to take another drink, he saw me.

  Eyes of a normally bright blue panned over to me, slow and dull like the light had been ripped clear out of them. They were also red-rimmed, a darkness underneath I hadn’t seen in even his most rigorous days of training. I’d seen Colton tired. I had seen Colton exhausted.

  I’d never seen Colton defeated.

  He seemed that way upon taking his drink, the swallow hard as the liquid traveled down his throat. His gaze appraising me, he caused my approach to pause full stop.

  His eyes narrowed. “You’ve come to talk to me now,” he said, shaking his glass before taking another drink. He forced it down harder than he had before, his jaw ticking after he did. “Why is it I only get your attention when I’m like this?”

  The words seemed to be spoken more to himself than to me, but that didn’t make them cut any less. Placing my bag down, I sat beside him.

  His gaze followed every move.

  Pausing, I simply sat there with him at first, not wanting to upset him by saying the wrong thing. He was clearly upset. I just didn’t understand why.

  “I’ve come to take you home,” I said to him, braving myself up. Other than the incident at his house, I’d never seen him this way. I mean, he’d been drunk before but only in good fun and nothing ever like this. He also never got publicly intoxicated. If he let loose, it was usually at one of his own parties or amongst friends. Today was neither of those situations.

  Colton’s gaze veered again, moving to the manager and his staff. They all stayed at the door, close enough for Colton to see from his booth. He sat back. “You’ve come to help them throw me out,” he settled on, tossing his head back. He closed his eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong. It was that girl. I didn’t want her. I…”

  His eyes falling open, he started to explain the incident, which caused the staff to cut him off—an incident that had been explained to me when I arrived. With his celebrity status, Colton easily gained attention the moment he set foot in this place. The thing was, he wanted time alone I guess, and when other patrons followed him to his booth, a woman in particular…

  It escalated rather quickly. He raised his voice at her, a voice I’d personally never heard at an octave above calm. He had the epitome of patience, this man. Especially when he’d been with me.

  Crossing my arms over my lap, I leaned his way.

  “This isn’t like you,” I said to him, making his eyes close again. “You don’t do things like this. Did something happen at lunch? With your brother?”

  He’d been fine before. I mean, he hadn’t been particularly happy—I turned him down for lunch with Griffin, but I believed he would get over it quickly. Anxiety surged that maybe this outburst had to do with me, but that couldn’t be possible.

  I didn’t miss Colton’s smirk on his lips. He took another drink, then shook his head after it.

  “Nothing happened with my brother,” he said to me, his light eyebrows descending. “And how would you know what I’m like?”

  “I felt I was starting to,” I told him, patient but also not willing to put up with the attitude that seemed to surface my way. I didn’t deserve it. My jaw stiffened. “I mean, we’ve worked together for years, Colton.”

  “Mmhmm, yes. A while now,” he stated, a clear sarcasm in his voice. He shook his glass. “And you’d think I’d get some allowances for that. You talking to me if you had an issue with me. You listening when there’s a misunderstanding.” His throat jumped. “You’d think I would get something.”

  He was obviously referencing what happened earlier in the day, but nothing I saw personally could be misunderstood about finding a woman in his bed only hours after he’d gone down on me. All that rang pretty freaking clear.

  And had nothing to do with this situation now.

  I stood. “We need to go now, Colton. The people who run this place like you, but if you ever want to set foot here again—”

  “The people here like my money,” he challenged, facing me. “And I don’t give a shit what they think.”

  My head shot back. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I have to say, I don’t like this side of you I’m seeing. You don’t do this crap. Getting drunk, getting… wasted in a public place. This isn’t like you. Now, I don’t get what’s going on, but you better get it together. Going out like this and causing a spectacle is unacceptable. I represent you and who you are, and I can’t keep doing that if you keep putting me in positions like this. I thought I knew you, Colton. But between stuff like this and the charity vouchers thing…”

  His gaze shot to me in an instant, and I closed my eyes. I slipped up saying something, and he noticed.

  His eyes narrowed. “What about charity vouchers?”

  I supposed I couldn’t avoid this. He asked me a question.

  I opened my hands. “Tommy stumbled across something while he was paying your charity contributions.”

  “What kind of something?”

  “He questioned the legitimacy of one of them,” I said, frowning at him. “And looking into it, I do too, a Project Margret? Whatever it is doesn’t lead to an actual nonprofit. The funds go to a clear private bank account, and the thing is, we’re wondering why.”

  We needed answers from him, and staring at him, I got lost in those dull blue eyes.

  “You’ve assumed something about me,” he stated taking another drink. This one made him wince. “And it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

  “But I haven’t,” I told him, being honest about that. I wanted to hear the truth. I wanted him to tell me, talk to me. “What is it, Colton? Why have you—”

  “Done nothing wrong,” he said looking at me. “I’m just as guilt-free in this as I am anything else when it comes to you.”

  “Colton—”

  “It’s a private venture,” he said, nodding his head. “And you won’t find anything wrong there because there’s nothing to find. Jesus, Cami. It’s a private endeavor, and it will remain private because I prefer it that way. Project Margret is personal, and as it’s my money, I don’t have to answer to either you or Tommy, or any of your accusations.”

  I cringed at his cut and how cold he’d been when he said it. Things didn’t have to be that way at all, but he’d taken them to that place.

  He pushed his hands over his shaven head.

  “Just know it’s legit,” he said to me, turning his head. “And it’s classified the way it is because it’s personal.”

  “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?” I said. “Why leave me to find it? To think God knew what about you—”

  “Would it have mattered?” he asked me, making me draw back. His blond eyebrows descended. “You’d listen to that like you did this morning? About Skylar? I know she’s why you left.”

  The breaths left my lips in a slow current.

  I pushed my hair behind my ear. “You and Skylar are none of my business.”

  “That’s the thing, Cami. There is no me and Skylar. There’s Skylar and then there’s me and her being at my house this morning was completely innocent. Regardless of what you might think.”

  Well, that was definitely a riot. He was making me out to be more of a fool than I already was, coming down here and trying to save him from any media backlash that might come. I was trying to save his career.

  I stood. “You forget the time I’ve put in with you, Colton Chandler. It’s time in which I’ve been able to pick up on you and the type of person you are.”

  “And who’s that?” he asked, standing too. “Tell me, Cami. Who exactly do you think I am?”

  “Someone I thought was honest!” I raised my hands. “Someone I thought was kind and sweet and didn’t walk around the earth like he ran it or
treat me like a fool just because I work for him. That girl was in your bed, Colton. I found her there, stark naked with your sheets pressed against her boobs, and if you’re telling me that you weren’t with her, that you didn’t go down on her just as you had me only hours ago, then you must take me for a complete and utter idiot or maybe naive. Neither of which I am, by the way, or you wouldn’t have hired me. I’m not a dense woman, Colton, so don’t take me for one.”

  I said more than I should have, and by the time I finished, I was shaking so hard I didn’t even have the thought to backpedal. I was just so angry, angry at him.

  But more angry at myself.

  I hated that he made me so emotional, that he’d driven me so crazy when he should be nothing more to me than my boss. He was nothing more than my boss and spinning, I might have made it out of his booth.

  Had he not grabbed my arm.

  He used it to advance me just as smoothly as he had the night before, and his hard chest against my back, he was just as breathy as I was.

  He leaned in.

  “You’re one of the smartest, most intelligent women I’ve ever known, Camille,” he said breathing those words down my ear, my neck. “And you’re right, I do know that, which is why I can’t get you out of my head, which is why I had to taste you. Not only do I want to do it again, the simple thought of it makes me want to blow my load right here.”

  The words brought surges to my body and entirely too much heat. Especially when he wrapped his arms around me and tugged me tight against his chest.

  “Eating you out, pleasing you…” The groan pulsed deep from his chest. “It gave me just as much pleasure as it gave you. You’re stuck in my head and unable to leave, even if I wanted that to be the case. I want you, Cami.”

  He wanted me.

  “And not to make you come or get you a one-off.” He pulled me around, forcing me to confront him full on. “But because you want this and because you want me to give it to you. I know what I said about last night being a onetime thing and know that would make things way easier than I’m making them right now.”