“I guess women underestimate short guys,” Ellen said. “So they have to pull out all the stops.”

  “Exactly,” Julian agreed. “I bet Davy Jones left behind a string of very satisfied customers in his day. Plus, ladies love a cheeky smile.”

  I chuckled, loving how Julian didn’t seem at all embarrassed to talk about the sexual prowess of another man.

  “I’d do him,” Nick’s friend Sally put in. “I think it’s a shame that heartthrobs these days have to be seven feet tall with muscles out to here. In the sixties, Cliff Richard was about as buff as it got. You could be as skinny and short as you liked, and girls would still go wild for you.”

  “Cliff Richard still looks good, considering he’s pushing eighty,” said Ellen. “But you’re right. I mean, look at the Beatles. Their fans were insane for them, and they were just four normal-looking lads.”

  “No way! Paul was a stunner,” Sally put in.

  “The rules are different for musicians,” Nick commented. “Musical talent and charisma can get you far.”

  “Very true,” Greg agreed, handing his joint to Nick. Cameron turned around for a second and I expected him to say something disapproving, but he simply watched the joint being passed like it was perfectly normal. I was intrigued by this more relaxed version of him. Perhaps he wasn’t such a stickler for the rules when he was outside of work.

  I’d never smoked weed before because I hadn’t ever really been curious, but when Nick offered the joint to me, I was feeling a little spontaneous. I took a quick drag and a very strong, almost burning sensation hit my throat. To my nose, it smelled like a strong mix of herbs and cat pee. Despite this, I found myself taking a second drag, then a third.

  It was then that Cameron turned around again, his expression curious as he watched me pass the joint back to Nick. He arched an intrigued eyebrow. I shot him a grin and he chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the boat.

  I was disappointed when I didn’t feel any discernible high. Nick and all three of his friends continued passing the joint around, though Julian and Ellen declined.

  “I’ve left my hedonistic days behind me,” Julian said when it was offered to him, which made me wonder what exactly those hedonistic days entailed. He seemed like someone who’d lived an interesting life. He and Ellen were so opposite, yet weirdly perfect for each other.

  In the distance, I could see Thatcher Rock Island. We lived in a very beautiful part of the country, especially on a day like this when the skies were clear. It was still cold, not exactly boating weather, but it was exceptionally good for January.

  Cameron sailed us out a good distance before turning us back around. When we arrived back at the marina, he went to grab a beer for himself before sliding in to sit between Greg and me.

  I was immediately struck by how close we were, our thighs and arms touching. The group was currently in the midst of a discussion on who they thought should be nominated for an Oscar this year, since the nominations were being announced in a few days.

  Greg lit up another joint and began passing it around. I was disappointed I hadn’t felt anything so far, so I decided to go all in, accepting the joint when offered to me. Cameron watched on with seemingly no judgement on whether I should or shouldn’t be partaking in what was essentially an illegal drug on his boat. In fact, he appeared amused by the whole thing and I was again struck by how much I enjoyed spending time with him outside of work, how laidback he was being.

  Feeling mischievous, I presented the joint to Cameron. He eyed it a moment before replying evenly, “No, thank you. I don’t smoke weed.”

  “But it’s a special occasion,” I countered.

  “Yeah, Cameron,” Nick put in. “It’s a special occasion.”

  He narrowed his gaze at his brother, then when he looked at me, his expression changed. I thought of our conversation down in the cabin, how he said we had a lot to learn from each other. I got the sense he was making an effort to be a little more carefree when his mouth curved into a relenting grin. He plucked the joint from my fingers and brought it to his mouth. “What’s the worst that could happen, eh?” he said before he held it to his lips, sucked in a drag and then exhaled.

  Hmmm, that was unexpectedly provocative.

  His gaze never left mine as he passed the joint to Sally.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  “Like a new man,” he deadpanned then took a swig of beer.

  I stared at him, unable to help my fascination.

  “What?” he asked, clearly wondering why I was staring.

  “You keep surprising me,” I answered. “I never thought I’d see Cameron Grant smoke a joint in front of me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m trying to expand my horizons.”

  I smiled. “Oh, and why’s that?”

  He tilted his head to me. “Someone recently opened my eyes to the fact that I can be a bit of a stick in the mud, so I’ve decided to be a little less rigid in my world view. Try new things and all that.”

  I chuckled. “Well, it’s a good look for you.”

  Something in his face told me he was pleased with my comment. I sat back, resting my head against the seat, a big, ridiculous grin on my face. I was preoccupied gazing up at the clouds before I realised I was high. I felt relaxed, sort of loose, and a little sleepy, my thoughts untroubled.

  I was happy to sit and soak in the atmosphere and the company, while still hyper-aware of Cameron’s closeness beside me. He’d taken a few more drags from the joint, but he didn’t seem affected like I was.

  Well, not until he sat back so that we were shoulder to shoulder. Julian, Ellen, and Pete had gone home, which left just me, Cameron, Nick, Greg, and Sally. I suspected Sally had a crush on Nick from the way she kept sneaking glances at him. He didn’t seem to be aware of it though.

  One good side to being high meant I didn’t squeak or jump out of my seat when Cameron turned to me and swept my hair over onto one shoulder, revealing the bare expanse of my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Looking at you,” he replied quietly, eyes on my neck. His gaze rose up to my chin, wandering across the planes of my cheeks, the curve of my lips.

  “Like what you see?” I murmured, definitely not in my right mind. Sitting here on this boat with Cameron, away from all the people we worked with, booze and weed in my system, left me with few inhibitions.

  “What do you think?” Cameron said, his low voice washing over me.

  His gaze wandered down my body now, lingering on the rise and fall of my chest. Was I breathing heavier all of a sudden? I felt mellow yet excited. Relaxed but on edge. Cameron’s attention seemed to draw out these contrasts in me.

  When his eyes came back up to meet mine, I thought he was going to kiss me. I wet my lips, heart speeding up as his face drew closer.

  “Can you turn the music down, please?” came a disgruntled voice.

  I looked up and felt a little dizzy as an elderly gentleman glared down at me. He had a bushy grey moustache, hands on his hips as he stood on the pier. Cameron immediately stood, while I sat up straight, sobering at the interruption.

  “My apologies for the music, Mr. Morrison. I’ll turn it down right away.”

  “See that you do,” the man responded, waiting to make sure he did, in fact, turn down the music before he stomped away back to his own boat.

  “Grumpy old bastard,” Nick said once he was gone.

  “He has every right to complain. This is a shared marina,” Cameron said. “We have to be respectful of our neighbours.”

  “It’s six p.m. on a Saturday,” Nick said. “It’s not like it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps we should call it a day,” Cameron suggested.

  “Are you serious? It’s still early,” Nick complained.

  “We’re almost out of booze anyway,” Sally said. “Besides, we can all head to the pub. There are some good bands playing at the local tonight.”

  Cameron proceeded to start cleaning up the space while I said goodbye to Nick, Sally, and Greg. When they were gone, I went down into the cabin and found Cameron putting all the empty beer bottles into a crate to be recycled.

  “Need any help?” I asked, surreptitiously sliding the “lovely” card from my handbag and placing it on a shelf in the kitchen. I felt like we’d bonded today. He’d shown me a new side of himself, so I wanted him to know I appreciated that.

  He shook his head, not looking at me when he replied. “I’ve got this. You can head home if you like.”

  “Oh, okay, well—”

  “Did you walk or drive here?” Cameron interrupted me mid-sentence.

  “I walked but—”

  “Then I’ll order you a cab. You’re too inebriated to walk home alone.”

  “I’m actually fine. Mr. Morrison’s moustache and glowering face had a weirdly sobering effect on me,” I said with a chuckle, but it didn’t put a dent in Cameron’s sudden bad mood. Perhaps I should take the card back.

  I frowned at him. “Listen, if you’re mad at me for goading you into smoking that joint, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “I’m not mad about that.”

  “Then why are you being so short with me?”

  Cameron heaved a long sigh, not looking at me. Then he finally met my gaze and his eyes held a shocking amount of frustration and longing. “Because this is the only way I can keep from asking you to come home with me tonight.”

  Time stood still. My cheeks heated and my chest thrummed, my voice croaky as I replied dumbly, “Oh.”

  A long silence elapsed before Cameron pulled out his phone. “I’m ordering you a cab now.”

  I swallowed tightly, my throat suddenly dry. “Okay, thanks.”

  I went back up onto the deck to wait and Cameron emerged a few minutes later to walk me up to the boat club where the taxi was waiting. He placed his hand to the small of my back for a second, then seemed to remember he shouldn’t be touching me and removed his hand.

  “I had a nice time today,” I said, glancing up at him.

  His hazel eyes were bright with emotion, and I saw that same longing mixed with frustration. I felt exactly the same way.

  “I did, too,” he finally replied as he opened the door to the taxi. “See you on Monday.”

  I miss you already, I wanted to say but managed to hold the words back. “See you on Monday, Cameron.”

  In the taxi, I distracted myself by checking my email. I scrolled through several work-related messages then paused, my finger hovering over the screen for a prolonged moment. My heart rate accelerated and a mixture of nerves and excitement swarmed my stomach as I read the subject line…

  Congratulations! You’re cordially invited to attend THE HUNT.

  Eleven

  The New Case

  January 21st – 22nd

  I was still pondering the email invite at work on Monday. I never expected to actually be invited to the treasure hunt and, therefore, had no clue what to do about it.

  When I sent Damien off with some research to complete, I sat down to read through the email one more time and worry pinched at me. This was because I hadn’t actually submitted mine and Cameron’s names when I applied. Instead I’d used two false identities the firm had created for a case Lilah and Cameron had worked on together last year.

  I wondered what would happen if they found out we weren’t who I claimed us to be in my application. I mean, the worst they could do was deny us entry, right?

  I knew that providing our real names wasn’t an option, since all they’d have to do was look into where we worked, and it would be an immediate red flag. I doubted such a secretive event would want people who worked for a private investigative firm attending, especially if something untoward was going on.

  Unfortunately, there was still the fact that it cost £3000 to attend, and I simply couldn’t bring myself to spend so much on a whim. It just wasn’t worth it, nor was it practical. I mean, this whole thing was driven by pure curiosity. Cameron and I weren’t even being paid to look into any of this.

  “Maisie, Georgia’s holding a general status meeting in the conference room in five minutes,” Nadia said as she passed by my desk.

  I nodded and clicked out of my email, determining to RSVP that unfortunately I was no longer interested in going to the event. Heading towards the conference room, I was just around the corner from the water cooler when I heard voices, one of which belonged to Cameron.

  Normally, I wouldn’t pay too much attention to my co-workers’ conversations, but it was unusual for Cameron to be chatting with the “lads,” i.e. Rory, Miles, and Kieran.

  “So, you aren’t seeing Maisie, then?” Rory questioned suspiciously. “I could’ve sworn you two looked cosy last week.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” Cameron replied evenly. Technically, it was the truth, yet for some reason, it still made my stomach clench unpleasantly to hear him say it.

  “Well that’s probably for the best,” Miles said. “That woman wouldn’t know what to do with a dick if she ever saw one.”

  Oh my God, that arsehole!

  “Yeah,” Kieran scoffed. “If Cameron was going to date anyone at the firm, it definitely wouldn’t be Maisie.”

  Just like that, my gut twisted and I clenched my fists. I couldn’t believe they were talking about me like this, and Cameron…Cameron was just standing there letting it happen. Of course, I couldn’t see his facial expression. He could be glaring at them with the fire of a thousand suns for all I knew, but still, his silence sliced right through me.

  “Hey now, don’t be mean,” Rory chided, his pleased tone indicating his delight that they were putting me down. Little arsehole was living his best life right now. “It’s not Maisie’s fault she’s annoying, always bringing donuts to the office like she’s trying to make everyone like her. It’s a little desperate.”

  “You still eat the donuts though, don’t you?” Cameron interjected, his tone dark. Oh, wow. He sounded pissed, and it soothed some of my hurt.

  “Well, y-yeah,” Rory stuttered a little, obviously hearing Cameron’s anger. “I’m not going to refuse free food.”

  “I didn’t realise Georgia paid you so little,” Cameron shot back. “I’ll have to have a word with her about the assistant salaries. I mean, if you need free food so badly.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Rory insisted, backtracking. “I get paid fine.”

  I put my hand to my mouth, my bad mood momentarily abating. Cameron had put Rory in his place and it felt good. Still, I was mad that I worked with people who thought it was okay to talk about me behind my back so callously. If I was ever going to gain their respect, then I couldn’t allow them to put me down for their own casual enjoyment. For one, it was unprofessional on their behalf, and for two, my newly discovered mean streak wanted to make them feel uncomfortable and rattled to know I’d overheard.

  Happy-go-lucky Maisie might’ve held back her hurt, plastered a smile on her face and pretended everything was hunky-dory. But this Maisie, the new one I’d started to become over the last few weeks, refused to be verbally thrashed by people who were supposed to be my co-workers.

  I gritted my teeth, held my head high, and walked around the corner.

  “Hey guys,” I greeted, neither smiling nor scowling, and taking great pleasure in their shocked, awkward expressions. I took my time walking up to the water cooler, filling my bottle then taking a long gulp. I made sure to look each of them in the eye, an uncomfortable silence filling the space. Then, just before I was about to leave, I pointed my water bottle at Rory. “You know, you might be right. I probably should stop bringing donuts to the office. They say sugar can have an adverse effect on testosterone levels. Oh,” I smacked my hand to mouth like I’d just come to some dramatic realisation. “That might be why you’re all standing around here gossiping and bitching about me like a bunch of old ladies.”

  Rory, Miles, and Kieran did not look at all happy with my insult. Cameron, however, seemed impressed, an expression on his face like he was trying not to laugh. There was also a hint of pride that made my chest feel funny.

  Without giving any of them another glance, I turned around, kept my head held high and continued on to the conference room. I sat next to Nadia, who was getting ready to take notes. I couldn’t seem to concentrate once the meeting started, my body too full of adrenaline. Standing up to those arseholes had felt amazing. I don’t know why I hadn’t done it sooner.

  “Maisie?”

  The mention of my name broke through my thoughts. Georgia was staring at me, clearly waiting for the answer to a question I hadn’t heard, too busy revelling in my little victory. I blinked, panicking for a second before Cameron saved me from embarrassment.

  “Maisie’s training is coming along very well. I’m pleased with her progress, and we’ll be starting on a new case today. The client is stopping by in half an hour.”

  I shot him a thankful look, though I still felt weird about him being there while Rory, Miles, and Kieran bitched about me. Yes, he’d put Rory in his place, but he hadn’t outright told them how they were speaking about me was inappropriate and unprofessional. Did he agree about me being annoying and desperate? He’d said a few things to that effect the night of the Christmas party. Sadly, I remembered every one of them clear as day.

  You want everyone to like you. Sometimes to your detriment. You go out of your way to do favours for people who will probably never return them, people who aren’t worth your time. You laugh in between sentences when nothing funny has been said, and you agree with people when you know what they’re saying is incorrect. Also, you smile way too much. It’s off-putting.

  “That’s good to hear,” Georgia said, breaking me from my internal fretting. “The building maintenance staff are setting up your new desk this evening, so once you’re finished training Damien, feel free to move your things over.”

  “Oh, thank you. That’s great,” I said, mustering a smile.