The Girlfriend Who Owned His Family's Debt

The heavy wooden door began to swing outward, the hinges groaning loudly, closing the distance between the secret and the light.

I didn't scramble. I didn't gasp. I simply lowered my hands from Jonathan's chest and took a single, quiet step back. By the time the door cleared the frame, I was already leaning against the opposite wall, studying a brown water stain on the ceiling tiles.

Jasper stepped into the hallway first, vigorously rubbing his hands together. Delphine trailed right behind him, reapplying a thick coat of shimmering lip gloss.

"Finally," Jonathan muttered. His voice stayed steady, giving nothing away. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"She dropped her compact," Jasper explained, shaking the excess water from his fingers onto the linoleum floor. "Took ten minutes to find it under that disgusting sink."

"It rolled," Delphine complained, snapping her designer purse shut. She looked between Jonathan and me, her brow furrowing slightly. "Did you guys get bored waiting?"

"Fascinating conversation out here," Jonathan said dryly. "Camille was just telling me about her future plans."

Jasper laughed, oblivious to the heavy atmosphere. "She doesn't have any plans today except surviving my driving." He walked right past me, clapping Jonathan on the shoulder. "Let's hit the road. We want to reach the cabin before dark."

"I need a coffee first," Delphine announced, already heading toward the front of the store. "Jas, buy me an iced latte?"

"They only have drip coffee here, Del."

"Ugh, fine. Just get me a bottled water. The expensive kind."

Jasper followed her obediently toward the cash register. I stayed by the hallway and watched them go. Jonathan lingered beside me. He didn't touch me, but the heat radiating from his body served as a sharp reminder of what had just happened against this very wall.

"You recover fast," Jonathan murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on Jasper's retreating back.

"Practice," I replied.

"From what?"

"From pretending everything is fine."

Jonathan let out a low, rough sound that might have been a laugh. He pushed off the wall and headed for the exit. I followed a few paces behind.

We walked out into the oppressive afternoon heat. The cracked asphalt radiated warmth through the thin soles of my sneakers. I went straight for the rear passenger door of the Range Rover.

I slid into the leather seat. My old canvas bag sat right where I had left it, pressed against my hip. Over the past three years, Delphine had claimed the front seat so often I had lost count, and Jasper had never once found it strange that I dutifully rode in the back. That bag held the only thing I cared about right now, and it certainly wasn't the man in the driver's seat.

I pulled the seatbelt across my chest. The metal clicked loudly in the quiet cabin.

Jonathan climbed in beside me. The heavy SUV dipped under his weight. He stretched his long legs out, his knee brushing mine once again. I didn't move away. I let the friction ground me.

Jasper and Delphine returned a minute later. Jasper tossed a plastic water bottle into Delphine's lap before starting the engine. The air conditioning blasted through the vents, chilling the sweat on my neck.

"Music," Delphine ordered, pointing at the dashboard screen.

Jasper tapped the display. A loud pop song filled the cabin. He shifted the car into drive and steered us back onto the highway. As he accelerated, he glanced up at the rearview mirror. His eyes caught mine, then flicked downward to the minimal space between Jonathan and me.

"Hey, Cam," Jasper called over the pounding bass of the music.

"Yes?"

"Shift over a bit to your left. Don't bother Jonathan while he's resting."

I stared at the back of Jasper's headrest. "Bother him?"

"You know he hates being crowded in cars," Jasper said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Just give him some room. It's a long drive."

Jonathan turned his head slowly. His dark eyes locked onto mine. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Right," I replied smoothly, holding Jonathan's gaze. "I'll make sure to give him plenty of space."

I didn't move an inch. My knee stayed firmly planted against Jonathan's thigh.

Jonathan held my stare for another second before looking out the window. We exchanged a silent, knowing look. The shared secret hummed between us, louder than the radio.

"Thanks, babe," Jasper said, satisfied with his own management of the situation. "We should be at the lake in about two hours. Del, did you pack the good wine?"

"Of course I did," Delphine chirped, twisting around in her seat to face the back. She rested her elbows on the center console. "Jasper says you're thinking of changing careers, Camille. Is that true?"

"I'm considering a few options," I answered, keeping my tone neutral.

"You should totally do something in fashion," Delphine suggested, her eyes scanning my plain T-shirt and jeans. "You have such a... quaint style. It would be a fun challenge for you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"There are only two bedrooms at this cabin," Delphine continued, changing the subject with dizzying speed. "Jasper and I usually take the master because of my back issues."

"You don't have back issues, Del," Jasper laughed.

"I do on cheap mattresses! Camille, you and Jonathan can flip for the guest room couch."

"I'll take the floor," Jonathan said, his voice rumbling in the confined space.

"See? He's a gentleman," Delphine beamed. "You could learn a thing or two from him, Jas."

"I'm plenty gentlemanly," Jasper argued playfully.

"You made me carry my own bags to the car!"

"They weighed ten pounds."

Delphine rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to me. "Anyway, maybe you could help Jasper with his startup full-time. He works so hard. He needs someone to handle the boring administrative stuff."

"I already own a stake in the company," I reminded her.

"Oh, right. The paperwork stuff." Delphine waved her hand dismissively. Her gaze dropped from my face to my lap. "Speaking of paperwork..."

She leaned closer, peering into the back seat.

The zipper on my canvas bag had slid open during the bumpy ride earlier. A thick stack of legal documents poked out of the main compartment. At the very top, printed in bold black ink, was my name: Brooks. Below it, the first few letters of 'Separation Agreement' were visible against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window.

"What's that?" Delphine asked, reaching her manicured hand back toward the gap between the front seats. "Are you doing office work on a weekend trip?"

I grabbed the zipper tab and pulled it sharply across the track.