Page 8 of Mr. Blackwood

“You’re not only an egotistical asshole, but you’re rude as hell.”

“Maybe, or maybe I just wanted to leave you with something to think about it.” He turned and walked back to the door and opened it for me. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“I doubt it,” I replied before rushing back through the door and to my office.

4 – JABARI

ONE WEEK LATER

I had been biding my time with Ms. Valentine. She was a woman constantly on the move with several meetings each day, both in and out of the office. I easily recalled when I used to move around a lot like that, hustling to get my business to the next level.

I thought it was cute that she was doing the same, but there was a clear distinction between us—she came from money, I didn’t.

The only thing I had surmised from the background check that had come back thus far was that she was an heiress to a large communications company. Her father, was the founder and CEO of Lewis-Cox Communications Company, and he had also come from money. Her mother was famed former soap opera actress, Carolyn Lewis. The woman had won several distinguished awards for her acting through the years, and Mr. Lewis had just as many for his communications company.

I didn’t understand why their daughter, Camilla, had to work so hard to build her business. There wasn’t an issue with her having her own business or building it from the ground up. The only thing I knew, was that if my parents had the type of money hers had, there would be a lot of options that would have made the road a little easier, even if only to open doors that were closed.

Yet, from all I could tell, she worked as hard as I had to build what she had, and she hadn’t taken a single dime from them. In fact, from what I derived from David, she didn’t seem to have a relationship with her parents, just her sister, Courtney, who was a pediatrician. Both daughters seemed to be detached from anyone for the most part. They were so married to their careers, that they ate, slept, and breathed their jobs.

I watched her on the monitors as she stepped off the elevator and headed into her office. This was the third time that she had arrived today. Just as I knew that, I also knew that she would be here for another four or five hours. Over the last three weeks, I had spotted her pattern. She arrived at seven in the morning, left two or three times a day, and she usually returned with storage boxes or document tubes. She left the office every Wednesday between six and seven, and the other nights she didn’t leave until ten or eleven at night. I had become addicted to watching her from my camera.

Although it would have been easy for me to arrange, I hadn’t encountered her again since our midnight rooftop encounter. I wanted our run-ins to be as organic as possible, but it was killing me. I wanted to orchestrate a run-in just so that I could hear her voice again, inhale her scent, or just be in her presence.

I had been sending her flowers and lunch every day, and I always instructed the vendors to send it from anonymous. Although I had Brick to install cameras in her office, I didn’t have him install audio, because I didn’t want to push the privacy violation any further than I had.

I tapped into the camera that was in her office. There were only two people there with her, the young girl, who I had realized was her assistant, and the older woman who flirted with every young man she saw. She was a cougar in its rawest form.

I switched cameras to monitor Camilla’s office, and she was on a phone call. She appeared to be stressed, and I wondered if everything was okay. For the first time, I wished that I had audio installed in her office. Whatever was bothering her, I wanted to make it right. `

A plan formulated in my mind as I decided it was time for another encounter between us. I saw her dropped off in the morning by a car service, so I knew that she hadn’t driven herself to work.

“Frankie, would you please get me Fields Royalty Car Service on the line?” I instructed my assistant after I dialed her.

“Yes, sir.”

Within a minute, she buzzed me again.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Blackwood, what can we do for you?” Yousef, the dispatch operator, asked.

“Have you received a booking for Ms. Camilla Valentine for this evening?”

“Yes, sir. We’re scheduled to pick her up soon. Our driver is en route and should be there within seven minutes.”

“I need you to cancel.”

“Has she arranged other service, Mr. Blackwood?”

“She hasn’t, but you don’t need to be concerned about that. I’ll take care of her.”

“Should I tell her that, if she calls?”

“No, Yousef. Just tell her there was a mix-up, and you’ll look into it and get back to her as soon as possible. I will have five grand deposited into your account before you leave for the night. I’ll transfer you back to my assistant, Frankie, and she’ll take care of you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“No problem, Yousef.”