His shoulders sunk with what I knew was rebuff. “You could have any role within our portfolio. Real estate, infrastructure companies, even one of the resorts we own. Have your pick. But not the club. I’m selling the Miami Flames to David and his father.” He walked around his desk. “It’s decided.”
I remained quiet. He was not getting it. Dad wasn’t getting any of this.
“You’ll move past your infatuation with the club.” His hands smoothed out the lapels of his jacket. “It was dying a slow death anyway, it has been for a decade now, so be happy we’ll make a profit thanks to your little impromptu breakdown and that sponsor deal David has in line.”
Thanks to me, or at my expense? I wanted to ask.
But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that my father was allowing that energy drink to sponsor the team or taking their money. Nothing really mattered.
This had never been about legacy or infatuation, not even money.
“Sell the goddamn club,” I heard myself say. My father winced back. “This was never about me. Or the Flames. It was about you.” My hand flew to my chest again, clutching Cameron’s ring. I knew what being shielded, cared for, protected was. Cameron had claimed to be selfish, but I saw now how wrong he’d been. He’d done all of that selflessly. For me. With my best interest at heart. Even if he’d made a mistake. “It’s on you if you don’t want to understand.”
I turned around, making my way to the exit.
“Adalyn,” my father warned.
I didn’t stop. “You have twenty-four hours to tell Mom and Josie,” I said, not looking back. “I’m giving you the chance not to make the same mistake you did with me. But if you don’t tell them, I will.” I came to a stop in front of the door. “You’re also relieving all of the current Vasquez debt. I guess it won’t hurt with all that profit my breakdown made you.”
I opened the door, no hesitation, only one goal in mind.
And when I spoke next, it was with one thought, one man, one plan in mind, and one foot on the other side. At the beginning of the rest of my life. “Oh, and in case it wasn’t clear? I resign.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Cameron
I pressed the phone to my ear, feeling my knuckles crack.
“Pick up, pick up,” I begged. Prayed. “Come on, love. Pick up the phone.”
When the voice I was dying to hear never came, I cursed under my breath. I hung up, stopping myself from throwing the damn thing out of the cab window.
Christ, where was she? Had something happened? Why wasn’t she picking up her phone? It was so goddamn late and I—
My phone rang.
I picked up immediately.
“Cameron,” Adalyn said. My name off her lips flew straight to my gut. Chest. Heart. “Cam?”
“Where are you.” I heard myself bark. I closed my eyes. This wasn’t the way to win her back. To grovel like I was determined to. To show her I trusted her. “I—Where are you, love? I need an address.”
Voices in the background got through. A female one and a male one. Was she listening to me?
“Adalyn?”
“Oh God, you’re not going to believe this,” she said. And why was her voice breaking? “My father—I—Oh God. I’ve been so stupid. I wish you were here. I—”
“I’m in Miami, I’m coming to you right now, but I need you to tell me where you are.”
Something that sounded a lot like a sob left her, and Christ, my fingers tightened around the phone in my hand. Adalyn spoke. “I’m on my way out of the Miami Flames grounds. I was going home when I saw all your missed calls.”
“Can you wait there for me?” For the first time in hours, I breathed a little easier. “Don’t go home yet. I’m coming to you. Just… wait for me. Please.”
“But—” she started.
But I was already barking at the driver, “Can you drive faster?” The guy shot me a glance. “I’ll pay you double.” He throttled the engine. “I’m almost there, love.” My hand tightened around the phone. “I know you didn’t need me today, but fuck, Adalyn. I hated how you left, I hated not knowing if you’d come back. I think I need to hold your hand. Make sure you’re okay. Just—Do this for me? Please? Don’t go to your apartment yet. I have a hundred apologies I need to say.”
“Cameron,” she said again, and my heart seemed to skip one, two, five beats. “I didn’t mean my apartment. I meant Green Oak.” A strangled sound came from the beautiful and smart woman on the other side. And I thought I stopped breathing. “I meant you.”