Ruining Mr. Perfect (The McCauley Brothers) Page 5

  At the gym, she quickly worked up a sweat. She’d just finished her crunches and leaned back for a good stretch when John Willington loomed over her.

  “Hey, Vanessa. Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

  She nodded. “John. Been catching up on my new client.” She spared him a grin. “Bellemy Tech is impressive.”

  He sat next to her and lay back, linking his hands behind his head. He seemed to be there to exercise, not flirt with her, and she relaxed. “Yeah. Great company.” He paused. “My dad started it.”

  Somehow they hadn’t gotten to that during their one and only night out. He’d mentioned his million-dollar house in Green Lake, his cabin in Tahoe and his beach house in St. Croix, his job as a tech specialist, and then a rundown of the things that interested him. Nothing about the name of his company or that Daddy owned it.

  “Nice.” What else did one say to a statement like that? Congratulations?

  “Yeah. My sisters and I all work there. Company’s been doing great with new processor chips.”

  “I read that in the press release you gave us. Don’t worry. We’ll keep you in compliance.”

  “I have no doubt.” Okay. There. She noted the direction of his gaze, on her legs, and showed him she’d witnessed his study with a raised brow.

  He grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, what can I say? You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I know. “I’ll see you on Friday.” With that, she rose and walked away, not willing to waste her precious free time on John. She’d been immersed in his company for days. She’d see him on Friday and be done. For all that he hadn’t made a pass, something about him unnerved her. She didn’t trust that happy-go-lucky grace he’d shown with her unspoken rejection.

  As she made her way toward the juice bar in the back, lingering with no desire to go home to an empty house, she ordered a vitamin smoothie and sat at the bar.

  “Hey, Vanessa. What’s shakin’?” Cameron sat next to her, his T-shirt damp and his dark hair plastered to his forehead. One of the few men she knew who didn’t smell overly ripe after working out. Oddly enough, evidence of his hard work made him sexier.

  She immediately relaxed. “Well, stranger. How are you doing?”

  “Not nearly as good as I should be.” He groaned and sipped his drink, what smelled like coffee. “My father is driving me nuts.”

  She drank her vitamins, thirsty for more than juice—for more of Cameron McCauley. When she said nothing, just sat listening, he poured it out.

  “God, Vanessa. For the first few days we didn’t talk much. A good thing. He’s been working hard, and I’ve been hustling to find myself a new office.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Just signed the papers yesterday.” He told her the area and she nodded. As suspected, Cameron had money to afford looking at that primo section downtown.

  “So now I can escape to work,” he continued. “Well, next week I can escape to work. I’m currently having the office decorated.”

  “Using Maddie?” Her interior designer roommate.

  “Of course.” He frowned. “Flynn keeps telling her to charge me full price.”

  “If you’re leasing that office space, you can afford it.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but doesn’t mean I have to.” He sighed.

  She felt for him, knowing his grief had nothing to do with Maddie’s prices and everything to do with his parents. “Is life with your dad that bad? You look stressed.”

  “I am.” He looked at her, and she saw his exhaustion. “When I pulled everything on the East Coast to consolidate out here, it was with the intention of making this my home base. Which I still intend to do. But if my father continues to make his stupid comments and gripe about what I eat, wear, buy, and do, I might lose it. Seriously.”

  “Cameron?” She put her hand on his shoulder, concerned.

  “I’m thinking I get twenty-five to life for manslaughter. It would be a slaughter, I promise you. He’s big, but I’m quick.”

  She pulled her hand away and grinned. “Idiot.”

  He snorted. “It’s either laugh or cry, and let me tell you, James McCauley can really make you cry.”

  They both paused to drink. Then she asked the question she’d wanted to know. “Any idea on why they separated?”

  “I have a vague idea. Dad won’t talk to me except to grunt or complain. Mike’s handling him. Poor bastard. When I talked to Mom, I caught the gist.”

  “And?”

  “Nosy, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, come on. I live through your family. The Flynn and Brody drama. Who’s setting Mike up with which woman, and now your parents. I know, I’m terrible.” Again, truth. “But considering my life consists of financial controls and investments for decreased tax liability on a much lower level than yours, and that I haven’t run in nearly five days, you can see I’m standing on my own ledge.”

  “Yeah?” His gaze narrowed. “You okay? I saw you talking to your buddy earlier.”

  She grimaced. “He’s not my ‘buddy.’ We went to dinner once.” She lowered her voice and leaned in, conscious John might have friends close by. “He’s now a client. Bellemy Tech.”

  Cameron whistled. “Nice.”

  “Yeah. He wants me to head the account, which my boss agreed to. I’m supposed to meet him Friday to discuss specifics.” She hadn’t mentioned her feelings to anyone at work, not even her friends, not wanting to sound paranoid. But for some odd reason, she knew she could talk to Cameron. He wouldn’t judge her, not for this. “I get a weird vibe from him.”

  He straightened. “Weird how?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just… It would be totally stupid to think he came to our accounting firm just to be with me. We’re the best in town. Companies as big as Bellemy don’t hire people to get their staff dates. But John specifically wanted me to head the account. Again, I am the best, but it would make more sense for either of my bosses to head things. I’m a senior manager, but they’re big money.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Yeah. He and I are supposed to meet for dinner to discuss work. I preferred my office, even his, but he said he only has time in the evening.” She looked into Cameron’s deep blue eyes, feeling foolish. “I’m being overly sensitive because of one lousy date, aren’t I?”

  “What does your gut tell you?” he asked softly.

  Cameron’s intensity soothed her, because in all the time she’d known him, he’d never shrugged her off or acted as if she were having a “Van-zilla moment,” as her roommates were fond of saying. He took her seriously.

  “It tells me to watch him.”

  “Then listen to it. You’re a smart woman, Vanessa. Trust your gut.” He finished his coffee. “Now how about I walk you to your car?” He leaned in to bring her to her feet.

  When his face neared hers, she whispered, “What are you doing?” Cameron had pulled a fast one with that kiss in her kitchen, in private. Like her, he had never seemed big on public displays of affection.

  “He’s looking over here,” he murmured. “Why don’t you kiss me and show him you’re not available?”

  “Oh.” Hell. She sounded disappointed. When he blinked and gave her a slow smile, she knew he’d heard and discerned her feelings. “Shut up.”

  She kissed him quickly, but the lingering warmth remained. Stupid libido.

  “Great. Come on.” He walked out of the gym with his hand at the small of her back. They passed John, and she nodded at him.

  He nodded back, a frown on his face.

  At her car, Cameron waited while she unlocked it and got in. Then he leaned down as she powered down the window. He had to be freezing in the cold garage, especially in those silky nylon shorts. The shorts that outlined his every muscle and bulge. Oh wow. She felt hot.

  “Yeah?” she growled, needing to leave
before she did something stupid, like pet him.

  “Yeah?”

  She cleared her throat. “I meant, thanks for walking me down.”

  “So your dinner on Friday. Where are you meeting?”

  “At the Four Seasons.”

  “What time?”

  “Seven. Why?”

  “Well, I thought I’d give myself a nice break from Dad. Maybe I’ll get a room there Friday night. I’ll have dinner around seven or eight, so before you leave, you might bump into me.”

  She flushed. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’ll meet a client for drinks and write it off. How’s that?”

  She chuckled. “Drinks, huh? Glad I’m not your accountant.”

  He grinned. “I’ll make it all official, don’t worry. But a luxury hotel room overlooking the water, what’s not to like?” He straightened, waved good-bye, and walked back toward the stairwell.

  As she drove away, she sighed to herself. Cameron McCauley—what’s not to like?

  Chapter 4

  Cam spent the next few days working on his plan to woo Vanessa. The coming week would make the perfect stage to slowly seduce her. He’d be there for her, showing support. Maybe tempt her into a drink or two. Then move on to a real date. That’s if he didn’t truly go to jail for killing his father first.

  “Boy, you got anything that tastes like real meat?”

  With the refrigerator door open, he could only see half of his father’s torso, waist, and legs. If only his father’s invisible head would mute the man as well.

  “How about the bacon, made from real pork?”

  “Yeah, but it’s apple smoked and has pepper all over it. I think those are peppercorns. Peppercorns.” James snorted. He was a big man with a hearty laugh and a giving heart that had room for anyone needing him—except his youngest son.

  From birth, it seemed Cam could do no right by the man. He’d heard the story of how he’d cried when his father had first held him. How he’d peed on the man, tried to hit him with a wiffle ball bat many times as a toddler, and how he never gave his father the time of day while growing up. In elementary school, but God forbid his father let the stories die.

  Cam had been intimidated. His father always seemed so overwhelming. For all that his boys took after him, James had handed down his personality to Mike, Flynn, and even Brody, but not Cam. Cam took after his mother. More cerebral in his pursuits, quieter, deeper.

  He had that McCauley competitive edge though. And the temper, though his was slow to boil. Case in point, almost two weeks of living with his father and he hadn’t brained the man.

  His father closed the fridge with an unnecessary slam, then foraged for snacks in the pantry. He found pretzels and some cheese chips he’d bought himself—because Cam wouldn’t touch the death traps filled with excess sodium and things he couldn’t pronounce—and sat next to Cam on the couch.

  They sat in silence while the Lakers played on TV.

  “So.” James finished chewing and spoke again. “You and I haven’t talked much about the situation with your mom.”

  Much? Try at all. “No.”

  “You okay with it?”

  Cam turned to regard his father with incredulity. “You’re kidding, right?” Rage boiled to the surface, an anger he hadn’t known had been brewing. “How the fuck can I be okay with you and Mom splitting up? What did you do?”

  His father’s brows drew close. “Me? Why do you think I’m at fault?”

  Something in his father’s expression cautioned Cam not to push, that he wouldn’t like what he found if he continued his quest for answers. He ignored the warning. “I know Mom. That woman loves you like crazy. She’s torn up about this. Really hurt. So I know this is you.” His brothers might be too in awe of their father, suffering from longtime hero worship, but Cam had always seen his dad as human. A loving and caring man, but a gruff person with his share of issues.

  “You know, I’m not taking our separation that easily either,” James answered in a low growl.

  “Yeah, right.” Cam snorted. “You’re still working with Mike, laughing it up with your beer buddies, and shoving your face full of whatever crap you want now that Mom’s not here to tell you no.”

  “You mean not here to nag me.” James glared. “Yeah, I work with Mike. We have a fucking business to run. What? I’m supposed to sit and cry my eyes out like a pussy because your mother can’t—” His father broke off and swore.

  “Can’t what?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “To what? Have a heart attack before you hit sixty-one?” He looked at the bad carbs around his father, still not sure how James maintained such a trim form. “Is it another woman?”

  “No.”

  But his father’s cheeks colored.

  “Oh my God. You’re cheating on Mom?” Cam stood, horrified to be right.

  “Boy, it’s not like that. Damn it.” James stood as well and dumped half a bag of chips on the couch. Making a mess, as he apparently did wherever he went.

  “I can’t believe you. Mom has always been faithful to you.”

  “Shut your mouth for two seconds and listen. I’m not cheating on your mother.”

  Relieved, Cam nodded.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been faithful to that woman for thirty-six years. Never once stepped out on her, and trust me, I had opportunity.” His dad’s eyes glowed with anger. “For over three decades I did whatever that woman wanted. I left the Corps, took up with my own father in the construction business when I’d really wanted to go to school. Yeah, I wanted to study. Scary shit, huh?”

  Cam just stared.

  “I did for my family, because that’s what a real man does. We settled here near your mother’s people. Not mine. My folks are in Wisconsin, but you know that. Everything I’ve done has been for your mother in one way or the other, and I’m tired of it.”

  “That’s crap, Dad.” Cam didn’t like his father’s tone. His dad’s…resentment. “You’re telling me you’ve been unhappy for so long and none of us knew? This is insane. A midlife crisis, right? Or is it about you getting a piece of ass? Something on the side?” He wanted to vomit. “I looked up to you.”

  “Bullshit. Credit me with some intelligence. You never looked twice at me for anything. Not like your brothers.”

  “Why? Because I refuse to swing a hammer or a wrench for a living?”

  “There’s nothing fucking wrong with that!”

  “I didn’t say there was!” What the hell? “Let’s stick to topic, shall we? Who is this other woman?”

  “There is no other woman. Shit. I never should have talked to you in the first place. Knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Why? Because I’m a Nancy? A momma’s boy?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” James snorted. “Jesus, Cam. You’re still pissed off about shit I said when I was teasing? And you wonder why we never ‘talk,’” he ended in air quotes. “I can’t say boo without you crying about hurt feelings.”

  Cam couldn’t believe his father could be this dense. So wrong about everything. No matter what his father thought, Cam did look up to him. He reined in his temper and said in a calm, controlled voice, “Dad, despite what you think, I do respect you. You taught me how to be a man. How to treat a woman. To go for what I want in life. I see—saw—your marriage to Mom as something to emulate. That I might one day aspire to have that kind of loving relationship. You’re really going to throw that all away on someone else?”

  His father stared at him, big bad James McCauley clenching his fists and breathing hard, a spark of fury in his berserker blue eyes. Looking like a meaner, older version of Mike. But instead of answering, he turned on his heel, stormed to the closet to grab his coat, and slammed out of the condo.

  Cam star
ed at the mess on the couch left in his father’s wake. “Fuck.”

  ***

  James McCauley hadn’t been so mad in…well, probably since the last real argument he’d had with Beth. She and Cam were so much alike. The boy and he butted heads, no two ways about it. Mike, James understood. Hell, looking at Mike was like looking at himself as a younger man. And Flynn and Brody, two better, more capable men he’d yet to meet. But Cam. The little prick.

  Part of him wanted to take his son over his knee and spank the shit out of him for such disrespect, twenty-nine or no. But a bigger part of him felt so proud that he’d raised such a refined, together young man. A financially successful, physically and emotionally secure adult. One who thought his father could actually cheat on his mother.

  Steaming, angry because it felt better to feel rage than hurt, he walked through the snow-cleared sidewalks to a coffee shop on the corner and stopped in for a cup of joe. As he waited, he realized he hadn’t stopped in to his favorite place in a while. The coffee shop on the corner in Queen Anne, where the barista, Amelia, always met him with a smile and a cup of his regular. She had a pretty grin and a spark in her eyes for him, a man a good fifteen years her senior.

  No, James wasn’t cheating, but not for lack of wanting. At the thought, he tucked his hands in his pockets and mumbled his order, not making eye contact with the young thing behind the counter.

  After paying for his coffee—black, not fancied up—James sat in the back, away from the other patrons.

  What had seemed like some harmless flirtation months ago had turned him on his ear. A good-looking woman seemed genuinely interested. He’d been told by many women that he looked good for his age, that if he weren’t married, they’d have made a play. But it had been so long since he’d felt like a real man. Someone attractive, sexual.

  Amelia always had a welcoming smile and an extra something she’d give him in the mornings that he never had to pay for. At home, Beth would have nothing for him but criticism. She’d meet with her retired friends, those hoity-toity jerks from the English department of that stupid college where she used to work. They’d always looked down on him.