Page 42 of Building Romance
Me: Who?
Al: Kasen lives in the building.
Me: No. Licorice?
Al: Oh, that’s Roxy and Gray’s cat. She likes to hide things.
Me: Got it.
Another message comes in from my sibling chat.
Spencer: Any progress on figuring her branding out so we can update ours?
Dalton: Ticktock. (clock emoji)
I groan. I’ve barely had time to think let alone consider my next business move.
Me: Not yet.
With each day that passes, I’m finding it harder to think of Camryn as my rival. I’ll be the first to admit that it’s been shocking to see how well we work together. Hell, I don’t even mind that she’s bossing me around in our little kitchen.
We’ve formed a rhythm and spend each evening planning. A small and growing part of me wishes we weren’t rivals. I’m not even sure if I’d consider her the enemy any longer. And that bothers me. I should hate her or at the very least not like her. It’s easier to hate your rivals.
I look down at the flowers Hutch sent over today. I had them arranged in our shared living space in the suite. I don’t scare easily but that guy unnerves me. Camryn tells me he’s a gentle giant, but I’m not sure I believe her.
Camryn walks in and grins as she steps up next to me. “How?” she asks, gently running a finger along a flower petal.
“Hutch sent them over,” I explain, motioning to a note.
She picks it up and her smile widens.
“You really love your neighbors, huh?” I ask, frowning because I barely know mine. I admit I’m jealous of the relationships she has with them all. I can’t even say I have friends any longer. And the ones I do have, I often question if they stay friends with me for the perks and nothing else. I love my brothers and they are my friends, but I secretly long for the type of bond she has with all of these people.
“I do,” she says as she sets the note down and looks up at me. “It’s Thursday.”
“And?” I ask.
“Didn’t you say you needed to check on your store when we had a free day? Today is a free day,” she points out.
We have a quick briefing this morning to confirm some things for next week but then we have the rest of the day.
I pull out my phone and call our family’s driver to come get us.
“He’ll pick us up in an hour,” I say after I hang up.
“Who?” she asks.
“My driver,” I state. She eyes me suspiciously and I return the look.
“You just call a driver and someone appears an hour outside the city to get us?” she asks incredulously.
“Yep. Just like that,” I say. It’s been so long since I thought about it. I remember one friend in college commenting once, but I run in circles where having a driver is a norm.
She rolls her eyes and I fight a smirk. Damn, she’s adorable when she’s annoyed.
“Come on,” I add as I place a hand on the small of her back, guiding her down to our meeting. I wait for her to fight me, but she complies without any more attitude. What the hell is happening between us? First me, now her. We’re both bowing to the other and it’s a strange feeling as if the dynamic between us has shifted. We’re sympatico and it feels natural yet foreign.
Three hours later, I’m waiting for her outside her store. She walks out and looks disheveled.
