Emily stood staring at where the car had disappeared, tears stinging her eyes. How she could have been so stupid? They had been having fun, but now everything had come crashing down, and she feared her relationship with Camila would never be the same.
She didn’t realize she was crying until Cassie and Maia found her. Cassie’s hands tugged at her shoulders, forcing her to look away from the empty street and into her sister’s worried eyes.
“Emily? What’s wrong?”
Maia stepped closer as Cassie wiped the tears from Emily’s cheeks. “Why are you standing out here? Where’s Camila?”
Emily forced herself to speak through her tight throat, her words shaky and soft enough to be snatched away in the breeze. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, she’s gone? She left? And that’s why you’re upset?”
Emily shook her head.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I ruined everything.” The words were filled with anguish, and a flicker of understanding crossed Cassie’s face.
“All right.” Cassie rubbed her hands up and down Emily’s arms—she hadn’t even noticed she was shivering. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Cassie wrapped an arm around her back to steer her down the street, Maia taking the other side of her.
They took her back home with them because their apartment was only a few minutes away and Emily didn’t have the strength to argue.
It was pathetic to be that upset. She and Camila had never even had anything, and it wasn’t like she was never going to see her again, but the thought of Camila being distant, of keeping things “professional,” made her stomach twist.
“We don’t have any ice cream,” Maia said as she unlocked the door, “but I’ll whip up some hot cocoa.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” Maia headed for the kitchen, leaving Emily and Cassie on the couch together. Cassie pulled her into a tight hug.
“You want to talk about it?”
She waited for Maia to return with steaming hot mugs overflowing with cream and marshmallows before she told them what had happened.
“I can’t believe you kissed her.” Cassie looked dumbstruck.
Emily groaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking. God, I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Maia told her, squeezing her arm sympathetically.
“Did you not hear the part about where I kissed my boss out of the blue?”
“I wouldn’t say it was out of the blue,” Maia replied. “We both saw the way you two were looking at each other all night, and we saw how jealous she seemed to be over Megan. Sounds to me like maybe Camila’s just scared. Maybe she realizes that she’s thinking of you as a friend or even something more, and she knows it’s unprofessional, given the fact that you work for her and you’re younger than her. Maybe she’s just trying to put some distance between the two of you.”
“And that’s a good thing because…?”
“Well, I didn’t say it was a good thing, just that it doesn’t make you an idiot. But it probably means that she’s got feelings for you too, or she’s starting to.”
The suggestion might have made her happy if she wasn’t so miserable.
“And if keeping you at arm’s length doesn’t work, then it’s only a matter of time before something happens.”
“And if it does work?”
“We’ll get you through it,” Cassie said. “Ready for bed?”
“I’ll go back to my place. I don’t want to—”
“Nope, you’re staying here. We’ve already decided.” Cassie cut her off with a no-nonsense tone. “So come on.”
Emily didn’t argue. She washed up and put on the spare pajamas she kept stashed in the guest room for nights like this.
When she went to say goodnight to Maia and her sister, Cassie beckoned her inside and lifted up the covers. Maia patted the space between them. “Get in. We’re making a sister sandwich.”
“But—”
“No arguing.”
She climbed in and was immediately squished between the two of them. She laughed in spite of herself. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too,” they said in unison, and it warmed her heart to have both of them in her life. Maia didn’t seem to mind her being a complete mess and needing her big sister, and she went overboard to make sure Emily knew she would always be there for her too.
Once upon a time, she thought she’d never have a family again, but here she was in the middle of the two best big sisters she could ever have dreamed of, and she knew that, no matter what happened, she was going to be okay.
* * *
Camila slammed the door, grabbed a bottle of scotch, and stalked into her study.
How could she have been so stupid to let herself get in this deep? When she saw that woman with Emily, smiling with enough charm to make her blush, it had felt like a knife through her heart.
Because Emily should have that, should flirt with gorgeous women on a night out with her sister, should have someone her own age, someone who wasn’t old and jaded, someone who didn’t work such ridiculous hours that it was hard to have a life.
She and Emily could never have the kind of easy relationship that started with eyes meeting across a crowded room, but pushing Emily away after that kiss had hurt almost more than Camila could bear.
She didn’t want to think about that fleeting kiss and how easy it would have been to pull Emily closer.
She didn’t want to think about how much she had wanted to.
She had been stupid, so unbelievably stupid, for not putting a stop to the spark that flickered to life whenever she and Emily were alone, but at least now it was done. She had seen the pain in Emily’s eyes before she turned and walked away and knew that things would be different, colder, from now on between the two of them.
Camila sat at her desk, holding her head in her hands because she realized she might be falling in love, and she wasn’t supposed to, not again, and damn Emily with her bright smile and sunny personality, damn her for bulldozing the walls that Camila kept around her heart because she didn’t think she’d ever be the same again.
If Jaime were there, she could at least go and watch him sleep, kiss his head, and inhale his scent, letting him calm her racing heart and mind.
But then if Jaime were there, Camila wouldn’t have spent the evening with Emily in the first place, and she wouldn’t even be in this mess.
Which was Chris’s fault, so fuck him, because it was a hell of a lot easier to blame him than admit that she had let Emily get too close, let her believe there was a chance at something for the two of them, and now she had crushed the girl’s heart in the palm of her hand.
Emily would be all right, Camila told herself. She was young, she was beautiful; she would have no trouble finding someone new.
Camila, on the other hand, would not, but her heart had been broken enough times to know that she would survive, even if she had to leave a piece of it behind.
* * *
Emily spent the weekend with Cassie and Maia, who did everything they could to keep her mind off Camila.
It worked—most of the time.
And when it didn’t, she found ways to keep herself occupied. But Sunday night, back in her own apartment, she slept fitfully, stomach knotted over what would happen when she went to work in the morning.
Her routine didn’t change—groan when the alarm went off, hit snooze and hide under a pillow until it went off again, drag herself into the shower, dress with her eyes half-closed, and sip her coffee and munch on a piece of toast while she caught up on the news.
Only this morning one of the headlines was “Camila Evans Spotted Cozying Up with Mystery Woman.” Emily clicked on the link, wondering if Camila had been seeing someone this whole time.
The page opened
to show two grainy photos, one of Camila guiding Emily to the restaurant exit, her hand on Emily’s back.
The photo had been taken from far enough away that only Camila was recognizable, and the second photo that showed them leaving the restaurant didn’t show her face. The article speculated on the mystery woman’s identity and on whether Camila was having a midlife crisis. Emily closed the link before reading the rest of it and, stomach churning, set her mug down.
She was grateful they hadn’t followed them to the bar—or memorialized the dramatic exit.
She wondered if she should mention the article to Camila, wondered if that classified as unprofessional, hated that she now had to speculate about what she could and couldn’t say around her.
By the time she got to Camila’s apartment, she had decided to wait and see how Camila reacted to her first.
After hesitating a moment—should she knock this time?—she walked in like she usually did, unlocking the door with her key, kicking off her shoes, and padding into the living room.
Camila was in the kitchen typing something on her phone. Jaime was eating his cereal in his usual spot at the breakfast bar.
“Good morning, Emily.” Camila kept her eyes on her phone, and Emily told herself that her cool greeting didn’t send a shard of glass through her heart.
“Good morning, Ms. Evans.”
Camila looked up at the formal greeting but didn’t say anything, returning her attention to her phone.
“Emily!” At least Jaime was happy to see her. She stepped in close and ruffled his hair.
“Hey, buddy. You have a good weekend with your dad?”
“It was okay.” Jaime scrunched up his nose.
“What did you do?”
“I rode a pony!”
“You did? Did you like it?”
“It was too tall.”
Emily chuckled. “Maybe you can try again when you’re a little bigger.”
Jaime nodded and turned back to his cereal.
Emily tapped her fingers on the bar. She felt more anxious now than she had her first time there.
“Is everything all right, Emily?” Camila looked at her, a challenge in her gaze, as if daring Emily to bring up what happened the other night.
“Have you, um, read the weekend news?”
“I had other things to do.” Camila’s curt response let Emily know she should know that already, that it was a stupid question that she shouldn’t have asked.
If Camila was going to be petty, then so was she. “Right. Never mind. I’m sure you’ll see it eventually.”
Camila opened her mouth to say more, but Emily had already turned away from her, focusing instead on Jaime, who had finished his breakfast and was climbing down from his stool.
He dragged her over to play with his action figures. Emily glanced back at Camila, who was watching with her jaw clenched. Emily had thought it would feel good if Camila felt as miserable as she did, but it only left her feeling empty.
“I shouldn’t be back too late tonight,” Camila said as she shrugged into her coat before leaning down to kiss Jaime goodbye.
“All right. Have a good day, Ms. Evans.”
Camila’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t respond. Emily sighed when the front door closed.
Well.
That had gone just about as she had imagined it would.
* * *
Camila paused in the hallway after closing the door. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering herself.
The morning had gone like she’d expected—stilted and awkward—and when she had seen Emily’s face, it had almost been enough to make her crack, to say that she’d been drunk on Friday night, that she had said things she didn’t mean, and could things just go back to the way they were?
But her resolve had held, she had been as cold and distant as she swore she would be.
As soon as she had settled in the backseat of her car, she reached for her phone to find whatever news Emily had been talking about.
She typed in her name and cursed when she saw the headline and photos of her and Emily.
She was annoyed with herself for not noticing someone watching them, and it didn’t sit well with her that Emily had been photographed without her permission, that she’d been exposed in such a way. She should be glad that at least the photographer hadn’t got a clear shot of Emily’s face.
She toyed with the idea of putting out a statement that it was a work dinner, nothing more, but decided that would just bring the story to the forefront, throw more fuel on the fire. It hadn’t been picked up by any major news outlets, and she was confident that it would die down and be forgotten. And she wasn’t going to be photographed with Emily again.
If she needed to, she could arrange a date with someone high profile, make that the story instead, to keep Emily’s name out of the limelight.
But for now, she would do nothing. She would say nothing about it to Emily, and the two of them could keep on pretending that everything was just fine.
Chapter 14
The next two weeks were…difficult.
Emily and Camila settled into their new dynamic rather quickly, all things considered. Emily focused her primary attention on Jaime and she and Camila—Ms. Evans—didn’t really talk much anymore, unless it was about him.
And it was fine.
Except that it wasn’t. It was anything but fine. Sometimes when she looked at Camila, she was desperate to say something, anything, to get her exterior to crack, to get her to open up, to just look at her the way she used to, with eyes that weren’t wary and guarded or, worse, utterly disinterested, but this was what Camila wanted, what Camila thought was best, so Emily played along, even though sometimes she thought it might kill her.
Camila left for work almost as soon as Emily arrived, and Emily left to go home as soon as Camila got back. They hadn’t been in a room alone together for longer than thirty seconds since that night.
Camila hadn’t been working as late—or maybe she was just leaving her office early and working through the night in her study instead. Her makeup couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes, but Emily couldn’t ask her what was wrong or if she was taking care of herself, so she just bit her tongue. With Camila coming home earlier, Emily found she was home earlier too, with too much free time on her hands.
She tried to keep herself busy, spending time with Megan at the gym, with Cassie and Maia, or finding ways to get out and make more friends in the city.
She even joined a cooking class, which was a bit of a disaster, made the teacher despair, but now she could make three basic dishes, and neither Cassie nor Maia had died of food poisoning when she cooked for them last week.
Cassie dragged her to a bar one Saturday night, promising to be her wing woman. She didn’t go home with anyone, but she danced a few times and got a few phone numbers, and Cassie had been pestering her ever since to message one of them.
She hadn’t—yet—but the possibility of dating someone was there, and that was something, a small victory, evidence that she could come out the other side.
Eventually, she managed to fill her schedule until she was busier than she had been since graduating from college, but a part of her still felt empty, like she wasn’t complete, no matter how hard she tried to fill the void.
* * *
Camila’s nights were lonely again. She hadn’t realized how nice it was to come home and have someone to talk to, and she missed the easy conversations with Emily. Things were still awkward between them, but it was for the best, and Camila made no effort to go back to the way it was before.
The night before Thanksgiving, Camila’s phone rang. It was her friend in LA, Jenny.
“I have a surprise for you,” Jenny said as Camila kicked off her shoes at the entrance to her apartment.
“A surprise?” Camila as
ked. Emily and Jaime were sitting together on the couch, and she waved, phone pressed to her ear. “Do I even want to know?”
“I’m going to be in the lobby of your building in…ten minutes.”
“You’re what?”
“You heard me. Put on a nice dress. I’m taking you out for a drink.”
“You can’t just…show up here without any warning and expect me to be free.”
“Oh, so you have plans?” Jenny asked skeptically.
“No, but I have a son. I can’t leave him alone, and the nanny is about to leave. Can you—”
“Um, Ms. Evans?” Emily’s voice was timid as she interrupted Camila. Turning, she found Emily watching her, biting down on her bottom lip. “I don’t mind staying late.”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that.” Given how eager Emily was to leave the apartment whenever Camila arrived home lately, she was surprised that she offered to stay longer. “Perhaps the neighbor could—”
“Absolutely not.” Emily said firmly. “Honestly, it’s fine.”
“I… Are you sure?”
“Yes, she’s sure,” Jenny affirmed as Emily nodded. “I’ll be right there!”
“Thank you, Emily.” Camila leaned over the back of the couch to kiss the top of Jaime’s head—he was already half-asleep—and hoped Emily wouldn’t be bored without Jaime to entertain her.
She barely had time to slip into her black dress, touch up her makeup, and run a brush through her hair before Jenny arrived. She hurried to answer the knock. Emily followed Camila with her eyes, and she tried to pretend that she didn’t notice.
“What, no hug?” Jenny asked when Camila opened the door. “Anyone would think you weren’t happy to see me.”
“When am I ever happy to see you?” Camila said as Jenny walked in and kicked off her shoes.
“Where’s my favorite godson?” Jenny asked, and grinned when Jaime’s head appeared over the back of the couch.
“Hi, Aunt Jenny!”
“Hey, kiddo. How are you? Your mom treating you all right?”
“Yeah!”
“Good.” Jenny’s eyes shifted to Emily with interest, and Camila almost groaned. “And who is this?”
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