Never Say Never

by Rachael Sommers

  “Camila, darling.” Charlotte rose to her feet when Camila reached her, giving her a kiss on each cheek. “I almost thought you weren’t coming.”

  “I’m ten minutes early, Mother,” Camila said. She sat opposite from Charlotte and reached for a menu.

  “Exactly.”

  Camila pursed her lips.

  She ordered a steak, testing if her mother would comment about Camila’s weight, but Charlotte only looked at her disapprovingly before ordering a salad for herself.

  “So, Camila,” Charlotte began after the server took their order. Camila braced herself. “I was disappointed to hear that you and Christopher didn’t work things out.”

  “Yes, well.” The server brought Camila a glass of wine, and she took a hefty sip as soon as it was set down in front of her. “It’s hard to patch things up after walking in on him fucking his secretary.”

  “Language,” Charlotte admonished, glancing around. Camila rolled her eyes—God forbid she ruin her mother’s perfect reputation. “Are you sure you didn’t drive him away?” she asked. “You do spend an awful lot of time at that silly little network of yours.”

  “That ‘silly little network’ of mine is the third most successful network in the United States.” Camila ground out the words through gritted teeth. She ought to be used to her mother’s opinion of her career, never mind that she was one of the most successful women in her field.

  “It’s not number one, though, is it?”

  Camila took another sip of wine.

  “Another divorce doesn’t look good, Camila,” Charlotte continued, “especially at your age. Think of your image.”

  “My image is just fine, Mother.”

  “Is it?” Charlotte asked. “Have you not seen what they’re writing about you? They say that you’re an ice queen, that you’re—”

  “I don’t care.” Camila interrupted her. She knew very well what the gossip rags said.

  “Perhaps you should.” Charlotte said. “When you married Chris, I thought you would settle down. But you pushed him away, like all of the others.”

  The words hit their target, and Camila hated that her own thoughts echoed her mother’s disapproval—not that she would ever tell Charlotte that.

  “Are you seeing anyone else? The longer you’re single, the longer—”

  “I’m not.” Camila signaled the server for another glass of wine. “I’m happy being single, Mother.”

  “Are you?” Charlotte asked. “You’re not lonely by yourself in that big apartment?”

  “No.”

  It was a lie, and Charlotte’s raised eyebrows told Camila that she knew it.

  “If you’re looking for a date, Camila, you only need ask. I’m sure I could find you someone suitable.”

  “Suitable” was code for a middle-aged white man whose family had money, not someone that Camila would choose.

  “I’m perfectly happy with the way things are, thank you.”

  The tone of her voice was intended to end the conversation, and her mother would have pressed on if their food had not arrived. She was relieved when they finished eating so she could escape, and she prayed, as Charlotte kissed her goodbye, that it would be a long time before they saw one another again.

  Her driver took her back across town to Emily’s apartment, and Emily greeted her with arms full of Jaime. Camila’s anger melted when she saw her son, and she gathered him in a fierce hug, setting him down when he wriggled.

  “Did you have a good morning?”

  “The best! Come see my painting!” He took her hand and tugged at her, but Camila held back.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “It’s fine,” Emily said. “Come in. Stay for a bit, if you like.”

  Her first thought was “bad idea,” but when she glanced at Emily’s worn couch, surveyed the cozy apartment, and listened to Cassie and Maia talking, she decided it would be nice to have some company to take her mind off her mother’s scathing words.

  “I—”

  “Please, Mama? I don’t want to go home yet.” Jaime looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes, and Camila relented.

  “Very well. If you’re sure it’s okay.”

  “Absolutely. Come on in.” Emily took her coat and Camila kicked off her shoes. Jaime pulled her over to the easel in the corner where the paint was still wet on a canvas.

  “You did this?” she asked, looking down at her son. He nodded. “It’s wonderful.”

  “He’s a natural.” Emily appeared next to her. “You’ve got an art maestro on your hands.” She turned to whisper in Camila’s ear. “He might want to take it home.” Camila shivered to feel Emily’s breath so close. “But I told him he had to ask you first.”

  “I can find somewhere to hang it.” When she was a child, the things she made never ended up on the walls—her mother never thought them good enough—and she wanted Jaime to be filled with pride whenever he saw his drawings in their home.

  “I’ll bring it over when it’s dry.”

  Camila watched Jaime wander over to the couch and climb up onto Maia’s lap.

  “I’ve been replaced as his favorite.” Emily mock sighed. “I think it was because she let him use her handcuffs to chain me to the table. He didn’t release me for ten minutes.”

  Camila laughed.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Do you still have some coffee?”

  “The first batch is all gone because my sister is a caffeine addict, but I can brew another pot. How was lunch?”

  “Awful,” Camila answered as she followed Emily to the kitchen.

  “That sucks.”

  “Yes, it does.” Camila waved her off, momentarily distracted when Emily reached for a mug, her shirt riding up to reveal skin at the small of her back.

  Camila longed to touch the area. At least she wasn’t wearing leggings and a sports bra again. The sight of her toned arms and her firm abs had knocked her speechless. It was the first time Camila had seen her arms—usually they were hidden by a sweater—but Emily had serious muscles, and that had always been Camila’s weakness.

  She was a little ashamed to admit to herself that after that day she had called Emily over to her place early twice more in the hope that she would see her in a similar state of undress, but both times she had been disappointed.

  Camila looked up quickly when Emily turned back around—it wouldn’t do to be caught staring—and accepted the steaming mug that was handed to her.

  They returned to the living area. Camila sat on the armchair, leaving Emily to squish next to Maia and her sister on the couch.

  “It’s nice to see you both, though it seems I’ve interrupted your day again.”

  “It’s all good,” Cassie assured her.

  “Mama, can Emily take me trick-or-treating for Halloween?” Jaime’s voice was eager. Camila had forgotten how close Halloween was.

  “Only if you can’t take him,” Emily added quickly. It was apparent to Camila that Emily still worried about overstepping, not wanting Jaime to prefer spending time with her instead of his mother, and it made Camila all the more grateful.

  “No, you can take him.” Camila couldn’t promise she would when she didn’t know if she’d be working late, and she didn’t want him to miss out on a childhood event because of her job.

  “Yay! I’m going to be an astronaut!”

  Camila decided to stop at a costume store on their way home.

  “What are you going to dress up as?” he asked Emily.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Please go as a pumpkin again.” Cassie grinned at the memory in her head. “God, that was a good year.” She turned to Maia. “She only just fit through our front door.”

  “I didn’t think it through,” Emily admitted.

  “Is the
re photographic evidence?” Maia asked.

  “Hmm.” Emily frowned. “Maybe. One sec.” She went to the bookshelf and ran her fingers across the spines of the photo albums. “Cassie, do you remember what year it was?”

  “My senior year, I think.”

  Emily selected one of the albums and leafed through it, laughing at some of the photos.

  “Bring it here. I wanna see.”

  Emily stalled. “Let me see make sure it’s the right one first,” then showed Camila the photo of Emily as a gangly teenager grinning in a round pumpkin costume. Cassie stood next to her dressed as the Grim Reaper.

  “That is…quite the costume,” Camila said.

  Cassie jumped up and snatched the album out of Emily’s hands, then returned to the couch to share the photos with Maia and Jaime.

  “Does Camila Evans have any embarrassing photos of her in full costume?”

  “Probably,” Camila admitted. “I didn’t dress up much for Halloween when I was a kid, but in high school… Well, let’s just say I wore a few things that scandalized my mother.”

  “Were you a rebel?”

  “Mm, not really. I only acted out when I lived at home, and since I got packed off to boarding school after my dad died, I didn’t have much opportunity. I bet you were a Girl Scout.”

  “She was,” Cassie confirmed. “She got detention once and she cried.”

  Emily picked up a cushion to smack her sister with, but Cassie batted it away. “It was your fault! You texted me in the middle of class.”

  “You should’ve had your phone on silent.”

  “You shouldn’t have texted me!”

  “It was important.”

  “The fact that you were bored during biology was not important.”

  “It was to me,” Cassie said in a solemn voice, and Emily scoffed. It seemed like they had had this same argument many times.

  Camila interrupted. “Looks like we tired the little man out.” Jaime was curled up against Maia, sleeping peacefully.

  “Should we move him to your bed or something?” Maia asked. “I don’t wanna wake him.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Emily got to her feet. “I’m just gonna go change the sheets.”

  “Emily Walker,” Cassie said, eyes on her sister’s flushing face. “Did you have a girl over here last night?”

  Emily’s blush deepened.

  “Oh, my God, you did! Was it the hot gym girl?”

  “She has a name.”

  “Was it Megan, then?” Cassie clarified, and when Emily moved toward her bedroom, she was hurried after her. “Excuse me, where are you going? I need details.”

  They disappeared into Emily’s bedroom before Camila could hear more, and she clenched her jaw at the memory of the scene she had witnessed that morning. She knew she was being stupid—she had no right to be upset. If anything, she should be relieved that Emily wasn’t obsessing about her.

  But still, it stung.

  She glanced up to see Maia watching her with a curious look on her face. Camila cleared her throat, trying to neutralize her expression.

  “So how long have you and Cassie been together?” It seemed like a safe question and a way to steer her thoughts away from Emily and keep Maia from wondering about what she must have read on Camila’s face.

  “About two years. We met at work.”

  “Emily said you’re a police officer?”

  “Yeah, detective.”

  “That’s impressive,” Camila said, thinking she looked young to be serving as a detective. “And Cassie? Emily mentioned that she’s a scientist.”

  “She’s in forensics. I worked for Boston PD for a while, then transferred here. On my first day, at my first crime scene, Cassie cussed me out for the way I was handling evidence.”

  “Because you were doing it wrong!” Cassie said, reentering the living area with Emily right behind.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “So it was love at first sight,” Camila teased, and the two looked at each other fondly.

  “Something like that,” Maia said softly. Jaime shifted against her. “Do you want to move him?” she asked Camila.

  Camila gathered Jaime in her arms. He was heavy, and she shifted him a little so she wouldn’t drop him, but he never stirred. From the corner of her eye, Camila saw Maia beckon Cassie over, and the two of them whispered together animatedly.

  She followed Emily to her small bedroom. It was dominated by a double bed. The design on the duvet was a galaxy, something that Jaime would appreciate when he woke up.

  “I’m going to see what they’re up to while you get him settled,” Emily said, and closed the door behind her, leaving it open a crack.

  Camila laid Jaime down and pulled the duvet over him, kissing the top of his head. She started back to the living room but paused when she heard raised voices.

  “What do you mean, ‘You’re leaving?’”

  “Exactly that, and keep your voice down or she’s going to hear you.” Camila leaned in, wondering what she wasn’t supposed to hear. “Don’t you want to spend more time with her?”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “Yeah, it is.” Camila imagined that Cassie was rolling her eyes. “Look, Maia said she seemed upset about you sleeping with Megan.”

  Camila cursed under her breath. She thought she was better at hiding her emotions. But that had changed on the Tuesday morning that Emily Walker had come into her life.

  “So?”

  “So,” Cassie continued, “if she’s jealous of Megan, then it means she might have feelings for you.”

  “She doesn’t,” Emily snapped back. “And even if she did, it doesn’t change anything because—”

  “Because she’s your boss, yadda yadda yadda.” Camila wondered how many times Emily and Cassie had had this conversation. “But she’s not going to be forever.”

  “But she is right now, and that’s all that matters.”

  Camila leaned away from the door, not wanting to hear any more. Emily was right—Camila was her boss, and a relationship would never be as easy for them as it would be for her and the woman that she had spent the night with.

  But staying away from Emily wouldn’t be easy either, because Emily had already wormed her way into her heart and wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. But she might be able to fool herself a little longer.

  She heard footsteps followed by the front door opening and closing, and quickly moved to study the framed photos on the wall.

  Most of them were of Emily and Cassie smiling widely at each other. In one, a woman who resembled Cassie stood with her arms around both girls. Her eyes were sad, and Camila concluded that she was Emily’s foster mother. In another, a much younger Emily stood with a couple who must be her birth parents. Her eyes were bright and full of innocence, completely unaware of the tragedy yet to come.

  “Hey. Cassie and Maia had to leave to go help a friend.”

  Camila tried to look surprised at the thin excuse.

  “Do you want a drink?”

  Camila thought she should decline, thought about shaking Jaime awake and taking him to get that Halloween costume, then spending the evening curled up with him on the couch watching his favorite movies.

  But Emily looked at her hopefully, and Camila was powerless to resist.

  “Sure.”

  Chapter 10

  “I don’t actually know what I have to drink,” Emily said after she had made the offer. “My liquor cabinet contains only whatever housewarming gifts anyone got me.”

  “Water will be fine.” Camila followed Emily into the kitchen, stopping to lean a hip against the counter.

  “I think I can conjure up something less boring than that.” Emily opened up a lower cupboard and crouched to peer inside. “Uh, I have”—she reached in and pulled out a small selection
of unopened bottles— “Vodka, gin, or scotch.”

  “You drink scotch?” Camila sounded surprised.

  “I do not, but the neighbor across the hall gave it to me when I moved in. I think he was trying to impress me. Needless to say, it didn’t work.” She glanced back at Camila. “Neat?”

  “Please.”

  Emily filled a glass with the amber liquid, and handed it to Camila, trying not to blush.

  Camila took a sip. “Not bad,” she said, handing the glass to Emily so she could taste it.

  She gagged, almost spraying Camila. “God, that’s disgusting. I’ll stick with gin and tonic.”

  Camila laughed.

  Drinks in hand, they returned to the living room. Emily was a bundle of nerves. It wasn’t like she’d never been alone with Camila before, but then again, those times had always been early in the morning, or at the end of the day when she was ready to leave. She never lingered, not wanting to overstay her welcome.

  And she wasn’t used to being alone with Camila in her own apartment, had never thought for a second she would ever be a visitor in her home, and now that she was there, she was edgy. From the way Camila’s fingers tapped an errant rhythm on her glass, Emily thought she might be edgy too.

  The TV still played the children’s network from earlier. Emily reached for the remote, surfing through the channels before settling on the news, wondering how to break the awkward silence.

  “So, do—”

  “Your—”

  They looked at each other, and Emily laughed nervously. The curve of Camila’s lips made her wonder what it would be like to kiss her, whether she’d enjoy scotch more if she tasted it on Camila’s tongue.

  Emily set her glass down on the table. She probably shouldn’t drink too much if her mind was going to go there. “What were you going to say?”

  “Just that your apartment is nice,” Camila said, glancing around the space.

  “Oh. It’s small compared to your place.” Emily shrugged. “But it’s home. It used to be my sister’s apartment, but when she moved in with Maia, she signed the lease over to me.”

  “How long has she been in the city?”