Page 64 of Cameron's Contract
Over the years, it wouldn’t be the last time Richard had stared at me like that. Richard Booth Sheppard, one of the most incredible friends I’d ever had.
“Cameron?” His voice brought me back to the present.
The scent of Balik salmon, caviar, and coffee lingered, along with the staleness of a meeting long over.
From behind the glass, I could see Dad talking to one of his secretaries. His gaze met mine and he gave a thin smile with a sharp nod of reassurance.
He wanted me to know he was okay.
Inside he was dying.
I cursed Shay for interrupting, believing that perhaps, just perhaps, I could have turned them around. I really thought I had them. Their expressions and body language had proved their conflict.
Had some of them been willing to throw themselves on their swords and ride out the blackmail? Stay loyal?
“Richard,” I said. “Do your thing.”
“Maybe you need a more experienced broker?”
“You’re the best there is.”
“I don’t know, Cam.”
“No regrets.”
“Promise.”
“Of course.”
The line wavered in and out and his voice broke up.
“Richard, are you there?”
“As soon as I get home I’ll get on it.”
“Pull over and buy from your phone.”
“…don’t like the sound of this, Cole. You sound a little…”
Uncertain was the word he was reaching for.
I drew back on the doubt in my tone. “Make this happen.”
“You’re really putting this kind of pressure on me?”
“I’m carrying this, Richard.”
“Don’t blame me if this goes tits up.”
“If you pull this off—”
“It’s impossible. You do realize that?”
“What one man can do another can do.”
I’d heard that somewhere and truly believed it.
“What do I get out of it?” he said.
