by Liz Durano
Giddy, that’s the word.
“Come in,” he says, stepping aside as I enter. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweat pants. “Let me take your coat.”
“I... I wasn’t planning on staying long.”
“Okay.” He closes the door behind me and as I stand at the end of the hallway, careful not to track mud on his carpet, I see the tree all lit up. In front of it is a gift bag I last saw Jordan carry to his truck. Oh shit.
I check to make sure Campbell’s not sporting any bruises as he stands in front of me. “Are you okay? Did Jory hurt you?”
Campbell smiles and shakes his head. “Nah, he’s not that dramatic. He just dropped off the presents.”
“And everything’s fine? You’re sure about that?” I ask, my panic growing. I want to inspect every inch of him to make sure my brother didn’t touch a hair on his head or he’ll never hear the end of it from me. “He said something about killing you when he found out.”
“Guess he changed his mind.”
“I didn’t mean to tell him about us but he overheard me telling my mom,” I stammer. “I didn’t mean to tell her either but... but she thought I saw the play with Malcolm and I had to correct her and that’s when Jory overheard us.”
“And I’m glad he did, Cait, because I would have told him myself if you hadn’t told him first. Besides, we didn’t break any laws by being together,” he says calmly.
“Addy must have talked to him.”
Campbell shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe he understands that we’re both adults and whatever happens, he trusts us enough to work it out ourselves.”
I can feel perspiration gathering along my brow. “I’m sorry for the things I said to you last night. I was just scared and I didn’t want to hurt anyone. And the more I thought about it, it just kept building up in my head until I felt I had no choice but to end it.”
Campbell smiles. “Would you like to remove your coat? You’re starting to sweat.”
“Oh. Sure,” I shrug off my coat and hand it to him.
“Your boots? I don’t want you tracking mud all over my carpet.”
“Sorry.” I follow him back toward the door to slip off my boots while he hangs my coat behind the door. “I’m not interrupting you or anything, am I?”
“I was just getting ready to open my presents.” He smiles and gives me a playful wink. “Want to keep me company?”
I smile, relief washing over me. “I’d love to.”
“But before we do that, I was just about to prepare myself some hot chocolate? Want some?”
My grin becomes wider. “Sure. Can I help?”
“Of course.”
I follow Campbell into the kitchen. It feels like we’re getting our bearings somehow, doing something we always did together only this time, it’s on totally new territory. There’s just us this time and maybe even a whole new ritual.
He already has the ingredients on the counter. Dutch-processed cocoa powder, almond milk, finely chopped semi-sweet chocolate and sugar. He even has chocolate chip cookies cooling on a wire rack on the counter.
“Guess you weren’t kidding. You could set up the phone over there and film the whole thing for social media.”
He laughs. “Let’s not and say we did.” Campbell turns on the stove to heat the water already in a saucepan. “The whipped cream is the refrigerator, in case you want it.”
Ten minutes later, we settle on the faux lambs wool rug in front of the Christmas tree with our mugs of hot chocolate on a tray next to a saucer of cookies. I can’t believe he hasn’t opened his presents yet but I’m also glad he hadn’t.
The first present he opens are from my parents and we don’t even have to guess. A pair or pajamas, although this one doesn’t have cute animals all over it. Instead, it’s blue plaid. All grown up, it seems. Jordan and Addison gave him a bottle of Bunnahabhain 12 Year, a 12-year-old single malt whiskey from the most Northern distillery on Islay, and from Jordan personally, a pair of wool socks with llamas all over it. Must be an inside joke because Campbell laughs, shaking his head, the whole time he looks at them. The last present is from me and I find myself wishing I’d gotten him something more meaningful. But it was something I’d ordered before I flew home, delivered to the house before I ran into him at the party.
Campbell laughs when he pulls out a desktop golf game from the box, complete with putter that swung from a triangular base, a magnetic flagpole and a putting surface that he can adjust to change the pitch of the green and putt a different hole every time. The flagpole also serves as a way to retrieve the ball from the cup.
“This is genius,” he says, unwrapping the parts and putting his first hole. “Thank you, Cait. This is exactly what I need when I need to decompress at work.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I got you something, too.” He reaches for a small bag from underneath the tree and hands it to me. It’s small and light.
“But you got me the owl slippers and the signed Coriolanus stuff.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I can’t get you anything else.” When I don’t answer, he continues. “Open it.”
I tear the wrapper to see a silver box. I pause, eyeing him suspiciously but he only winks at me.
I lift the lid, grinning from ear to ear when I see what’s resting inside, the molecular structure for dopamine cast in solid platinum with its chemical bonds represented in ruby, my birth stones.
“It’s how you’ve always made me feel,” Campbell says. “Good.”
“Oh, Campbell,” I say, picking up the necklace and holding it up. “You know me so well.”
“I figured you’d get it. Would you like me to put it on you?”
“Yes, please.” I hand him the necklace and he fastens the chain behind my neck before kissing the top of my shoulder gently, an almost effortless reaction that catches us by surprise.
“Turn around, Cait.” I don’t even think about it. I just do it, turning around to face him because he asked me to, our faces so close together, our lips so tantalizingly close. I suddenly feel dizzy. No, not dizzy. I’m giddy and I want us to keep going. No more second thoughts. No more doubts.
“Kiss me,” I whisper and he does, a slow and lingering kiss that begins as a brush of our lips, tingles running up and down my spine as the pressure deepens. When he pulls back, I feel lost, wanting to feel his kiss again. “What’s wrong?”
“Is this what you want, Cait?” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Because I don’t want to play any more games. I want the real thing.”
“I don’t want to play games either. I like you more than you’ll ever know, Campbell Murphy, and for much longer than you care to know. Heck, more than I was willing to admit to myself.”
“And now?”
“I’m admitting it,” I reply. “I like you and I’d like us to keep going.”
He waits for a few moments, his eyes narrowing. “Why do I have a feeling that there’s a ‘but’ waiting at the end of that sentence?”
“I’ve got one more semester.”
He chuckles. “And? You don’t think I can wait?”
“And then I have to find a job and take whatever comes along.”
“I like you with or without a job, Miss O’Halloran. As long as you’re happy doing whatever it is you want to do, I’ll always be here for you. Not just as a friend, but as something more,” he says. “But I can’t do it alone. You have to trust me, too. You have to trust us.”
“But what if we don’t work out? Will you still be friends with Jordan? With the family?”
“But what if it does work out, Cait? What then?” he asks. “Will you let your fear take over and leave you wondering what if? Or will you take that chance with me and tell yourself, why not?”
“You’re really good at this.”
“I’m really better with numbers, but numbers don’t kiss back. They don’t taste as good as you.”
I blush, his gaze reminding me of one of Roxy’s words, panty-melting.
“So what will it be, Cait?”
“Yes. Yes to everything.”
“Good.” A smile brightens Campbell’s features, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Outside, it has grown dark and the only light in the living room is from the tree, its string lights dancing gold and white.
“I hope you didn’t have any plans to go home,” he murmurs as he draws closer, “because I’d hate to take you home right now.”
I feel his lips brush against mine, soft and warm, stubble grazing my chin. “I wasn’t exactly planning on it.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Campbell murmurs. “The weather’s not exactly a let’s-hang-outdoors kind of weather.”
“No, it’s more why-don’t-we-hang-out-by-the-fireplace kinda weather.”
He grins. “Electric fireplace work for you?”
“Of course,” I whisper as he continues to kiss me, his stubble against my neck making me giggle. “Anything with you in it will work for me, actually.”
He pulls away, amused. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“I like the sound of that, Cait. I’m glad the feeling is mutual.”
Fourteen
Five Months Later
Thanks to crazy LA traffic, I almost miss seeing Caitlin walk across the stage to accept her diploma. But of course, I don’t, not if Jordan can help it. He’s waiting for me outside the school campus gate and as soon as the Uber driver drops me off, we hurry to the building where the commencement ceremony is going on.
Luckily, as New Yorkers, we’re both so used to walking that we make it inside the auditorium just as the Dean starts announcing names starting with M. The moment we hear her name from the loudspeakers, we applaud and cheer as loud as we can, Jordan and I whistling for good measure. We don’t even care that people look at us funny. I know it’s a formal affair but it’s more than just years of hard work for Caitlin. It’s years where the O’Hallorans sacrificed so much to get her the best education she deserved.
She’s also officially my girl.
As Caitlin walks across the stage, I can’t believe how proud I feel. She looks so radiant in her cap and gown and when she looks up at us causing a ruckus in the audience, her beautiful face cracks into a wide smile before she turns her attention back to the Dean, her expression all serious now as she accepts her diploma.
And just like that, she’s officially got her Masters in Molecular Biology.
“That’s my girl,” I say, whistling.
“No, that’s my sister, man,” Jordan says as Addison just rolls her eyes. No, her husband and his best friend hasn’t changed one bit.
Hard to believe there’d been times when I found myself seriously doubting if Caitlin and I would ever work out in the long term. Maybe she was right at the dinner table that Christmas Eve, when she talked about holiday romances being so fleeting, lovers’ emotions too caught up in the season.
But then, Caitlin and I didn’t just meet during the holidays. We’ve known each other since we were kids which means our foundation is strong. And we weren’t exactly just sitting around doing nothing either. We were both busy—sometimes too busy. She had that dissertation and other graduation requirements to complete and I had work and the crazy hours that come with it. There’s also a job offer from a hedge fund that I seriously need to make a decision on, but not until I talk to Caitlin first.
Half an hour later, after Caitlin introduces me to her friends and professors and smiling for all the pictures, we make our way toward the house the O’Hallorans are renting a few blocks away from the university. We could have gone to some posh restaurant to celebrate but this is what Caitlin wants, to be able to kick off her high heels and be around family.
The weather is perfect for a leisurely stroll and on the way, Jordan orders Thai food to be delivered complete with Thai iced teas, coffee, and fried bananas with coconut ice cream for dessert. He’s still pulling my carry-on luggage, insisting I need to keep my hands free for his sister anyway.
And I’m glad for that because I can’t get enough of Caitlin although I keep it at hand holding for now. The rest can come later.
With her graduation gown and cap now folded and tucked away, she looks stunning in her sleeveless V-neck fitted dress. I don’t even know what color it is. Taupe? It reminds me of sand but more importantly, it makes Caitlin’s red hair and her freckles stand out.
“For a minute there, I thought you wouldn’t make it,” she says as I loosen my tie, my jacket draped over my other arm. I didn’t want to appear too casual for her graduation but I clearly underestimated the casual culture of Los Angeles. Even Jordan and his dad are wearing button down shirts and chinos.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Cait. Too bad I had one more deal to close at the office before I could fly out.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I could hear you and Jory all the way from the stage,” she says, giggling. “You guys were loud.”
“New Yorkers are loud. Or have you forgotten?” I tug at her hand playfully, wrapping my arm around her as she turns toward me. “I’ve missed you, Cait.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Campbell.” We stop walking and kiss, the scent of her making my nostrils flare. A car honks its horn at us.
“Get a room!” Someone yells, laughing as Caitlin pulls away and we continue to walk.
“Do you really have to leave in two days?”
“I have to finish up some work before…” My voice fades. Any more talking and I’ll ruin the surprise. “Well, before we close another deal.”
“All work and no play makes Campbell a dull boy, you know.”
I chuckle. “Let’s hope not. Anyway, I met someone while playing golf last week. He owns an investment firm just a few blocks from my office and he offered me a position. It’s similar to what I’m doing right now, only I’ll be working for a hedge fund.”
Caitlin frowns. “Were you even looking?”
“I’m not, but ever since that feature last year where I was named among the top analysts in the country, I get a call now and then,” I reply. “It doesn’t hurt to check out what they’ve got to offer.”
Caitlin looks at me expectantly. “And?”
“It turns out he knows Addison and Jordan.”
“How?”
“He’s Addison’s best friend’s father-in-law. Daniel Drexel and he owns an investment firm. Hedge funds.”
“Really? Does she know?”
I nod. “He and his son are among the investors in the expansion of her medical practice.”
Caitlin laughs. “What a small world!”
“I received his formal offer on my way here.”
She turns serious. “Wow, that’s serious, Cam. Does it pay more? Is that why you’re considering it? Although if it means you’re going to end up working longer hours than you already do–”
“That’s the thing, Cait. I won’t,” I reply. “The hours are more consistent. Market hours.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrow. “What does that mean? You already work almost a hundred hours sometimes when there are deals closing.”
“I’ll probably spend about sixty to seventy hours a week. It beats the usual seventy I spend now that usually turns into a hundred hours when it’s time to close the deals.”
“A hundred hours a week is a lot, Cam. I always knew you worked long hours. I just had no idea how long,” she says.
“I get holidays.”
“I didn’t mind it as much when we were living apart but now that I’m moving back to New York, what then? Will I even see you? Or do I have to wait until a holiday break?”
I squeeze her hand. I’d told Mr. Drexel that the only reason I’d consider his offer was if I got to keep market hours and he agreed. He said he commuted to see his family in New Mexico for years while running his business. Sure, he had a partner but he believed in family coming first. It’s rare to hear such words coming from a Co-Executive Managing Member of a global investment management firm but ever
ything I’ve read about him and his company seem to measure up. He’s a widower now, his wife having died from cancer years ago.
“I’ve spent the last 48 hours studying everything about his company. He’s been in investing for about twenty years and his record is solid. His connections are…” I pause, exhaling as I remember the details about Mr. Drexel. The man was a lifetime member of one of the most exclusive men’s clubs in New York. “Let’s just say he knows the right people.”
“So you have a good feeling about him?”
I nod. “But I want your input as well. He wants me to fly to London to check out their international offices in a week but it’s only a formality. If I take the position, I’ll be in New York.”
We’ve arrived at the house and the rest have gone inside but we remain standing outside the door. Caitlin bites her lower lip. “You sound like you’re thinking about accepting the offer.”
“Not without asking what you think about it first.”
She thinks for a few moments. “What do you like about it the most?”
I pull her to me and kiss her softly on the lips. “I get to spend more time with you.”
“It would be nice not to see you on my phone screen for a change. Besides, I like the original version better,” she says, smiling. I love how her eyes sparkle when she’s happy, and right now, those green eyes sure are sparkling.
“I wish I could help you move out of your apartment,” I murmur.
“Jordan is going to help me,” she says. “And I also don’t have much. The apartment came fully furnished and a student is moving into my room as soon as I leave.”
“If you need me to help you before I leave, I can do that.”
“I’m taking you all around LA the next two days, Cam, remember? The Hollywood sign, Grumman Chinese Theater, the Getty Center, so no moving stuff until after we do the Hollywood tourist thing. Oh, and I’ll be sneaking out of the house to be with you at your hotel.”