Chapter 2 – Non Negotiable

"You're being watched. And we both know it's not a creep with a crush."

Milo blinked, sighing, and walked to the window with his arms folded below his chest.

"I think you're being dramatic," he muttered, arms crossing loosely.

Camille remained silent for a beat, then said, "You think everything is dramatic. Except for your own life, you keep pushing everything away, building your walls high; you don't even take care of yourself."

That earned her a brief, sideways glance. His lips twitched; yeah, that was Camille. 

"Is this still about the stalker?" he asked, voice dry.

"Yes," she said flatly. “I'm sorry, I overreacted,” she apologised, slightly bowing. 

Milo knew Camille so well; she always sharpened her mouth, but in the next instant she regretted it and quickly apologised.

Milo just nodded, tapping the screen once more, bringing the photo back up.

"This doesn't mean I need a bodyguard," he said, checking the time on his watch. "Shit. I'm late."

Camille's brows arched like she’d been waiting for him to notice.

He was some minutes behind schedule for the board meeting. Without another word, he grabbed his blazer, putting it on over his turtleneck shirt, and slipped his phone inside the blazer pocket, already striding toward the door using the elevator.

Camille followed fast behind him, her heels making a clicking sound as she marched to the elevator. "I told them to start without you."

"Of course you did," he said as the elevator doors slid shut.

*****

The meeting had already begun by the time Milo walked in.

The shareholders and some executives carried up their faces, watching him as he walked in as if nothing mattered, with Camille trailing behind him.

Some stared as though they were judging him, while some stared as though they wanted to eat him.

He didn't apologise for being late. He always got away with that.

Camille slipped in behind him, taking her seat at the side as Milo moved to the head of the long glass table, some eyes still tracking him as he took his seat.

He sat down gently, easily crossing his legs.

"Good morning, you all. Let's make this snappy; I have business to deal with.“

There was a brief pause, then the chief financial officer cleared his throat, looking up at Milo for an approval, maybe for talking.

"The season two financials," he said, pushing a folder toward Milo. "The margins are held, but there are concerns about the overseas branch."

Milo flipped the folder open with one hand and didn’t bother to read. "Then close the branch."

"It’s not that simple.... It's"

"It is when I say it is."

Camille opened her mouth wide; she knew Milo was never used to making decisions without thinking. He might have thought it through before coming for the meeting. She simply began typing notes as if Milo hadn’t just shut down a whole branch.

The meeting continued; they covered updates on the mergers and current staffing needs, and there was discussion about restructuring parts of the company and some irrelevant discussion.

Milo stared uninterested, waiting for them to end the meeting or propose a new plan that will be beneficial to the company.

But they all were so dumb, proposing different unreasonable plans.

The meeting ended with some mumbles of approval and some just nodding at what their colleagues said.

Milo just rose, walking out of the boardroom, and Camille followed suit.

He didn’t speak again until they were back in the corridor leading to his office.

"I didn’t like how that old hag, Bruce, kept watching me," Milo said casually.

"Bruce is just weird; he watches everyone like he is finding something against them—a very old and nosy man."

"Make sure he’s not on the list for season three invites."

"You know, he always finds a reason to show up; I can't just stop him."”

He glanced at her. "Then do anything it takes; I just don't trust that man."

Camille gave a tight-lipped smile. "Noted." She saluted.

*****

Entering his office, Milo pulled off his jacket and threw it carelessly over the arm of the couch.

Camille entered behind him, holding a plain folder.

"That wasn’t as painful as I expected," Milo said, stretching his neck as he massaged his sore neck.

"It wasn't painful," she replied, holding out the folder. "But I'm not sure if this will hurt you more."

He took it with a sigh, flipping it open without paying attention to it.

"Is this another investor trying to make a deal with me that I don't want?" He laughed, flipping it open and closed. “If it is taken back, I don't want to waste anyone's time.”

"No," she said. "That's your... that's your bodyguard I hired."

He froze, then looked up at Camille.

“Huh! What?” He sighed, looking confused.

“I thought we talked about this?“

"Excuse me?"

Camille folded her hands in front of her. "You said earlier today you didn't need one, so I said I'd insist because I care."

"Insist doesn't mean hand me a folder like you've already signed the contract."

"It does when the CEO in question keeps ignoring weird threats."

He looked down at the file; the name of the bodyguard was printed in clean black font on the top tab:

Nolan Ashford.

The name rang a bell at the back of his head.

He didn’t know why. But he knew the name Nolan, but the other name wasn't familiar.

He stared at it longer than he meant to.

"You already hired him, didn’t you?"

Camille said nothing.

Milo looked up sharply. "Camille."

"Do you know him?" Camille asked, redirecting a question to Milo.

“The name sounds so familiar, but I can't pinpoint where I heard it from,” he thought for a while. “Anyway, just make sure he's good; if he turns out to be a bald man, I swear we are... Wait! Did you already sign the contract?” He asked.

“Umm, yeah,” Camille whispered shyly.

“And he arrives tomorrow.”

“My goodness, Camille.”