CHAPTER 8
Just because something is a bad idea doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time? Wyatt stared at his cell for a beat and then another, trying to puzzle through Camille’s voicemail. Had she just insulted him? Complimented him?
He had no idea.
He did know she’d agreed to another date tonight.
If I actually make it that far, he thought, pocketing his cell and glaring around his father’s waiting room once more. It was typical Kingston Murphy: glass walls, white marble floors, and white marble sculpture.
It would’ve seemed cold if his designer hadn’t thrown in pops of color. Vivid red rugs were slung under the waiting room’s cherrywood seating. Mark Rothko abstract oils in deep blues lined the sole solid wall. It was tasteful, beautiful, and quintessentially his mother’s style. She’d l
