time limit of one year, not four. One year in exchange for one year’s pay. That’s fair.” Siena sliced a hand in the air. “Either make the changes or we walk.” She leaned in and tossed them a tight smile. “And we talk.”
Damn. My girl was in her element. Warmth filled my stomach as I watched my sister, my mastermind, shine in her craft. She was unicorns and rainbows, glitter and star fire. A law goddess, a defender of the defenseless. You get the point. She’s my #WCW.
Sienna stood and smoothed down her bone-colored pencil skirt. “We’ll give you a few minutes to discuss. Ms. Williams and I will sit in the lobby for . . .” She looked down at her gold watch. “I can spare thirty minutes. If you need more time, let us know. We’ll get back to you at our earliest convenience.”
She waved me toward the door. “Gentlemen,” she tossed over her shoulder, and then we strode out the door.
“Damn, girl” I whispered to her. “You did that.”
“I know.” She gave me her open palm, and I gave her the high five she deserved.
Thirty-five minutes later we had our answer. They would change the contract, I could write my book, and I wouldn’t be broke as hell. Well, at least for the next year.
* * *
“Congratulations.” Cam clinked his wine glass against mine. With his other hand, he gave me a fist bump. “You’re glowing, baby.”
His compliment stoked the energy and confidence and fire that burned inside me. “Thanks, Cam.” He was right, I was glowing, and I had great reasons for the change.
Tony and his team of merry lawyers had agreed to my demands. The severance gave me time to figure out my next move. And right after my severance victory, I was offered a contract to write my book, tentatively titled Rainstorm. Thankfully, my brilliant agent worked out the NDA details, and the book wouldn’t be out for a year and some change. Which brought me to dinner by candlelight with my fine-ass man in a three-piece suit, seated in front of me.
“So now that you’ll be a world-famous author, what’s your next move?”
“Next move?” I twisted one of the tendrils that framed my face. “I dunno. I’m just happy I have money in the bank and can breathe easy on this mortgage.”
Cam grabbed my hand, intertwining his pecan-sandy skin with my dark chocolate. I smiled at the contrast and looked at him. My breath nearly caught at the love I saw in his eyes.
“You know I’ll always take care of you.”
That’s what my daddy used to say, too. “I know, Cam. I just don’t want to have to depend on you. This relationship has to be equal, otherwise—”
“Otherwise, you think I’ll run away in the middle of the night like your coward father.”
I took a deep gulp from my wine glass. “Trust me, it wasn’t the middle of the night. The sun was shining, an otherwise ordinary day.”
“That’s beside the point, Raina. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’ve got you. Soon, very soon, you’ll see.”
I squeezed his hand, leaned over, and kissed it. “I know you love me, baby, and I love you. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Maybe I want to.” He gave me a cocky grin that sent a flood of heat to my lady parts.
A stick-thin man sidled up to our table, soprano sax in hand. With a dramatic flair, he inserted the instrument into his mouth and softly played smooth jazz in the background.
“What’s all this, Cam?” I waved at the musician.
Cam laughed, but it was forced, nervous. He licked his lips. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”
My attention darted around the restaurant. Thanks to Kenny G going ham on the sax, we were snagging the attention of other dinner guests.
“Cameron?” My pitch went Minnie Mouse high. “What are you doing?”
Cam took a deep breath, stood, and walked to my side of the table.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, now anxious.
He dropped to his knees in front of me. “Raina, I love you. You’re my first thought when I wake up in the morning and my last before I sleep. I knew you were the one for me when I first met you, and for the past six years I’ve been waiting for you. I know I’ve asked you a few times before, and I know now you were just waiting for the right time, for everything to come together.”
Was I? No, I’m pretty