Page 21 of Camping with the Boss

Wade explains, and I try to keep smiling, but it reminds me that River has been gone for over eight hours and hasn’t responded to my messages. Or my voicemail.

Vivian touches my arm, bringing me back to the conversation. “I hope he’s okay.” Her words sound genuine, and now I really like her.

They start talking shop. Vivian is their head of marketing.

The others arrive, and it’s hard to keep track of everyone. Wade and I didn’t have a chance to go over the campers or the itinerary. I’m in way over my head, but focusing on that and not the other crap lurking in my brain actually helps.

A few people stand out. Carol is in HR. I remember her name because of anIt’s Always Sunny in Philadelphiaepisode:There’s no Carol in HR. She’s petite with shoulder-length blonde hair, probably in her early forties, and she’s very quiet. Even when she talks.

We sit at picnic tables, chatting as everyone arrives. I count four women. Besides Vivian and Carol, there’s Sheila and Lydia. Sheila is an older lady with a Scottish accent. She’s the VP of marketing. Lydia is the chief financial officer. She’s brisk and to the point but has an amazing laugh that invites you to join in.

“What’s the deal with them?” I ask Wade when he has a moment. He follows my gaze. Lydia’s talking to George. He’s not saying anything, but his body is tight with tension.

Wade rubs his forehead and sighs. “George used to be our CFO. But Lydia took over a few months ago after the whole Tim—At the beginning of the year.” His abrupt stop and the mask he now has back in place pique my curiosity. Who is Tim, and what is Wade trying to hide?

The guys are as varied as the women. Jared—I should have realized he would be here. Ander, with a sour expression and frequent glances at the exit, like he’s contemplating an escape. The loudest person here is the head of HR, which amuses me for some reason. Al loves to tell jokes, and by everyone else’s expressions, they are no longer amused and haven’t been for a while. He’s white and balding, with a large nose. Dillian and Owen are the IT guys. They interact mostly with each other, and I realize River probably fits right in with them. But I also catch them glaring at each other. There’s an undercurrent I don’t quite understand.

The younger Black guy sitting with the IT guys is also quiet, but it’s different from Carol and Sheila. He’s paying attention to various conversations as if he’s absorbing as much as he can. His gaze reaches mine, and I nod. He grins, and I realize he’s cute—and he knows it. I can’t help grinning back at him.

“What are you doing?” Wade asks in my ear. And God does that do things to my body. I try to ignore my inappropriate reaction.

“Making friends.”

“You’re not here to make friends, Canyon,” he says in a hard voice. “Or to hook up with anyone. Got it?”

I give him my full attention. Keeping my voice low, I say, “I see someone reengaged your bosshole mode.”

He narrows his eyes in warning, and I hold back a smirk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the cute guy trying not to laugh. There is no way he heard me. And then he signs, “Hi, beautiful. I’m Jet.” I only know a little sign language, but whether I understand him or not isn’t the point. Is this Jet’s way of telling me he can read lips?

And then the more alarming question. Did he just listen to my conversation with Wade? He winks, and I have my answer.

“Oh God,” I mutter, hiding my face in my hands.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

He studies me for another second and then checks his watch. “Where in the hell is George?”

“I’m here—” But the man has to stop halfway and take deep breaths. The chatter of the crowd lessens as everyone turns toward him. George is probably in his mid-fifties with white hair and wire-rimmed glasses. His cheeks puff out as he tries to catch his breath. The humidity is unbearable today. He holds up a hand. “I’m fine.” Then he slowly makes his way over, sits at the picnic table, and takes a few puffs off an inhaler.

“Glad you could finally make it, George,” Al says. “I thought we were going to have to send out a search party.”

“No, I’m here. Ready for this torture.”

Wade stands, and everyone goes quiet. “Thank you all for coming. I know this isn’t everyone’s idea of fun. But I wanted to get us away from the office in a more casual setting.”

“I hear beach resorts are nice.” This time, everyone laughs at Al’s joke.

Wade waits for the laughter to stop. “As you know, River worked hard to pull this together. But he had something come up at the last minute. I want to thank his brother, Canyon, for agreeing to lead the retreat for us.” He turns to me and nods.

Is my face as red as it feels? I hope not. “You’re welcome.”

“We have bags for everyone. They contain your camp badges with your cabin number, the itinerary, snacks, and a refillable water bottle. Jet helped River put these together.” Everyone turns to Jet, and he waves. “Tonight, we’ll have dinner in the dining hall. Tomorrow, we’ll start at nine with breakfast and a welcome meeting. Then we’ll break into groups for goal setting.”

The dining hall is set up with round tables and a large carved bear off to the side. We go through the line and choose either barbeque pork or chicken sandwiches. Wade leads me to a table and sits next to me. I’m not sure if he’s being protective or making sure I don’t mess anything up. But I don’t mind. I’m not used to being around this many people.

And I like being close to him.

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