In fact, he probably thought about her mortality more than his own. Camille was the closest thing to family he had, and once she was gone…
His phone rang, and he snatched it from the base. “Yes?”
“I have Mrs. Massey on the line, sir.”
“Thank you, Marjorie. Put her through.”
After a series of clicks, Derrick heard Camille’s disgruntled voice, and it eased his troubled heart.
“You better have a good reason for waking me, young man.”
Derrick smiled, feeling more relieved than he could’ve ever explained. “Just making sure you’re still alive.”
“I’ll admit I’m not long for this world, but I haven’t left just yet. Now, why are you on the phone with me instead of in the conference room with your team working out the last-minute kinks in the Marquardt Building plans?”
“That’s already squared away. I was just curious as to what could keep the indomitable Camille Massey away from the office.”
There was a long pause, and Derrick waited patiently, knowing Camille was searching for the right words. He knew from experience she would tell him as little as possible. He also knew her reasons were equal parts her protective nature and her pride. And Derrick would sift through her explanation for the truth. They’d been together too long and understood each other too well.
“I’m fine, Derrick. Just tired, that’s all.” She sighed heavily. “I’ve been thinking about something lately.”
“What’s that?”
“Retirement.”
“Retirement. You?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. You knew I had to retire eventually—or did you expect them to just carry me out of my office one day? Besides, it’s not like you need me. You haven’t needed me in over three years.”
“I’ll always need you, Camille.”
“You’re doing a fine job of running the company without any help from anyone. Royce always knew you would be a wonderful architect someday, but I don’t think even he imagined you would do as well as you have.”
“But—”
“I’ve given that company my whole life, Derrick. Don’t I deserve to keep some small part of it for myself?”
Derrick was speechless. He had no argument for that obvious truth, except his own selfish desire for her companionship. Finally, he answered. “Of course you do.”
“It’s just an idea. I’m sure I’ll feel well enough to come in tomorrow.”
“Camille, I…”
“What is it, Derrick?”
“I just wanted to say thank-you—again, for all you’ve done for me.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, I’m not dying. Lighten up.”
“You can make jokes if you want. But we both know the truth. A lot of people wouldn’t have helped me.”
“What choice did I have?” She laughed. “When you came charging into the ladies’ room that day and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw me.”
He smiled to himself remembering the unlikely events that brought Camille into his life twenty-five years ago. “I wasn’t thinking, just running, I just didn’t want to go to that boys’ home, and I knew that was the next stop for me. After hitting my latest foster dad over the head with a chair, there weren’t a whole lot of options left for a kid like me.”
The other end of the line was quiet for so long, Derrick wondered if he’d lost her. “Camille?”
“Hmm, I’m here. I was just thinking. I’ve often wondered why you didn’t ever explain to the social worker why you hit him, Derrick?”
“What was I supposed to say? That waking up in the middle of the night to find a man standing over my bed freaked me out? I didn’t realize until it was too late that he was only there to tuck me in.” He huffed. “The last time I woke up to find a man over my bed, he wasn’t trying to tuck me in, Camille. So, I acted on instinct.”
“And you don’t think the social worker would’ve understood that?”
“Please, by that time I’d been in so much trouble, I don’t think she would’ve believed me if I told her I was black.”
She chuckled. “Well, it’s not like I did anything special. Despite your best effort, she did find you, remember?”
“But so did you,” he added quietly, remembering the day Camille showed up in the boys’ home to check on him. “You changed the whole path of my life, and no matter how you downplay it, I’ll never forget that. And…I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“Wanna bet? You just get the corrections made on those Marquardt building plans so we can submit them and receive our nice big commission. You’ll be a little richer, and I’ll be one step closer to retirement. It’s a win-win.”
Derrick laughed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“So you tell me.”
He sighed in relief, feeling much better now that he’d talked to her and assured himself she was as spunky and contrary as ever.
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Derrick hung up the phone, took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. The winds of change were blowing, and he did not like their direction. But he also knew there was little he could do about it.
From the day he found her, Camille Massey had been the only constant in Derrick’s life. And the neglected little boy that still resided in his soul railed against the idea of her not being a part of his everyday existence.
He tapped his fingers on the top of the desk, trying to find a way to distract himself from his troubling thoughts. He considered all the projects spread on the small mahogany conference table on the other side of his office.
There were also a couple of job sites he’d been putting off visiting. That wasn’t what he wanted right now. No, Derrick knew himself well enough to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when he was feeling this particular brand of melancholy blue, there was only one thing that could lift his spirits. He needed a woman’s warmth.
Unfortunately, he was not currently in a relationship nor was he the type of man to dip his wick in any available sweet pot, contrary to the tabloid stories. No, Derrick knew he was a one-woman man. The problem was, he could never seem to find the right woman…
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out the elegantly embossed business card. He quickly dialed the number.
“Love Unlimited, Terri speaking.”
“Noelle Brown, please.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brown is in with a client. Can I help you?”
“When will she be free?”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Derrick Brandt.”
“One moment, Mr. Brandt.” She quickly returned to the line. “Mrs. Brown asked that I take a message.”
“A message?” Where the hell are the women you promised me? How’s that for a message?
“Sir?”
“Just