by Bethany-Kris
His father chuckled. “Complicated women are usually not worth the effort, son.”
“That’s your opinion.”
Tommas sobered, and eyed his son again. “Unless, of course, a man loves that woman. Do you? Is that what it is?”
“Do I what?”
“Love the woman. Camilla, I mean. Do you love her?”
“Kind of crazy to love someone when you barely know them, isn’t it?”
His father waved that statement off. “I loved Abriella damn near instantly. Something about her just … called to something in me. Sounds strange, I know, but it’s true. I didn’t realize until later that I did love her, and I had loved her from the beginning. Nonetheless, it’s possible, and it happens. In those cases, you usually learn the reasons why you love them as you go along. It’s the souls that call the hearts together, Tommaso.”
“You sound like a walking Hallmark card.”
“I sound like a father talking to his son, thank you.”
“I didn’t really come to visit to talk about this.”
Mostly, he just wanted to get onto a new conversation because the things his father said made a hell of a lot of sense. Tom just didn’t know how to deal with it all at the moment.
How could he?
He was in Chicago.
Camilla was in New York.
“Would you rather argue about petty things I won’t budge on?” his father asked.
Tom scowled. “Not particularly.”
“Make sure you visit more often now that you’re back home and settled in. I should not have to pass messages through my brother-in-law to get you over here, Tommaso. Do not let it happen again.”
Damn.
His father was not messing around at all. Really, he didn’t mind. His father’s straightforward approach to almost everything was one of the things Tom appreciated the most about the man. That, and how he loved and cared for his family.
“Fine,” Tom said.
“Tell me more about this … Camilla.”
He shot his father a look. “Why?”
Tommas smiled softly. “I have a feeling I need to know. Not to mention, I’m curious. Go on, son, tell me.”
“She’s …”
“Hmm?”
“Different.”
“Different,” his father echoed.
“Amazing,” Tom added. “Probably a little too wild for her own good. She’s got this way about her. She’s like nothing else I’ve ever come up against.”
“Sounds like you consider her a challenge.”
Tom fixed the cufflink on his suit, and laughed with a nod. “She is. Every bit of her is a challenge, Dad.”
“And you don’t know how to back down from one of those, do you?”
“You taught me not to.”
“One of my best traits,” his father replied. “What else can you tell me?”
Lots of things.
Nothing.
“I’m considering heading back to New York as soon as I can,” Tom admitted. “But things are busy here—thanks for that—and I can’t really afford to leave the crew to themselves when every other day, there’s some kind of issue popping up. I’m the only one handling them.”
“To see her, you mean?”
“Who else would I go back for?”
“You have friends there.”
“Fine, then, yes. I would go back for Camilla.”
Tommas nodded. “I see.”
“That’s it? You see?”
“Oh, son, the rest is not for me to figure out. That’s your job, Tommaso.”
Tom quieted for a long while before he said, “I like her.”
“I can tell.”
“Not sure what to do about it.”
“Well … I suppose that’s something else for you to figure out, too, Tommaso. That’s life, son. It has a way of keeping things interesting for us all.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth?
CHAPTER EIGHT
“TRY THIS one, Cam.”
She took the second evening gown her mother handed over, and eyed the silk piece. “Kind of boring, isn’t it? Jesus, Ma, it looks like something a good girl would wear to her Catholic prom while the nuns reminded everyone dancing to leave enough space for the Holy Ghost.”
“Camilla.” Emma stared at her daughter like she was talking to a small child who didn’t understand big words. “Now, come on. Be serious.”
Camilla looked at the dress again.
Hell, she was being serious.
“Well, it is, Ma. It doesn’t even have a slit in the leg worth looking at.”
She checked the tag, and rolled her eyes.
“For the price,” Camilla added, “it should have something to make it worth putting on, for fuck’s sake. I am not paying two thousand dollars for a dress that won’t even turn heads.”
“Could you not swear in this store?”
Camilla side-eyed the prim and proper ladies milling about the store, and being helped by other women. “Ma, we all say the same things when we’re on our backs, right? You can’t tell me none of these women haven’t said something similar.”
Emma’s cheeks flooded with pink before she yanked the dress back out of Camilla’s hands. “My God, you are awful.”
She laughed.
Battle won.
Her mother was easy to play like that, honestly. She liked joking with her mother when Emma was least expecting it because it always made for a good laugh.
Like now.
“You love me,” she told her mother.
“Good thing,” Emma joked. “Seriously, though, find a dress. We can’t be here all day, and there are other shops I want to go to.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Camilla went back to looking through the racks of designer dresses while her mother headed for the front with the white chiffon and silk gown she had picked.
Camilla pulled a soft pink gown from the rack, and held it up to look the item over. It wasn’t anything to scoff at. It was a sweetheart neckline with extra-large crystals decorating the bodice. The chiffon skirt wasn’t poufy, and didn’t give off the princess vibe, which she appreciated. The back was a simple zipper.
Nothing about it was inappropriate, as far as that went. It also didn’t feel exactly prom-ish. Something Camilla hated about gowns. The front of the gown’s skirt was slit up past the knees, and would likely show off a bit of leg.
Some nice heels, and it would do.
Camilla turned with the dress to find her mother standing there waiting. “What do you think?”
“Well, at least you found something that doesn’t scream club.”
“Or do you mean to say slut, Ma?”
Emma gave her daughter a look that shamed Camilla damn near instantly. “You know I would never use that word for you, Cam.”
“I know. I’m just … Never mind.”
“Touchy, I think. The word you’re looking for is touchy.”
Camilla moved a bit to the left as a woman passed her by. Once the lady was out of earshot, she turned back to her mother. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Ma?”
“Just what I said. You’re a little touchy lately on certain things. Not like you usually are.”
“I am not.”
“Camilla, I asked if you were seeing anybody lately, and you practically bit my head off.”
“Because you talk to August all the time. You know I’m not seeing anybody. I never see anybody, anyway.”
“Yes, but I didn’t talk to you.”
Camilla sighed. “Can we just get the dress and then go pick up August? She wanted to find a dress for tonight when we go out to the club. I promised she could look around with us today.”
Emma frowned, but said nothing.
She knew her mother wouldn’t push her for more.
It just wasn’t Emma’s style.
Right then, Camilla was grateful.
As it was, her phone happened to be burning a hole in her damn pocket. A single text
earlier had sent her into a tailspin, and made her—as her mother put it—touchy.
Frankly, that was happening a lot lately.
Camilla could blame a lot of things to distract people when they pointed it out to her. She was getting damn good at brushing them all off when others asked about her mood. At the moment, the truth was scarier than she was willing to admit.
She was touchy.
Her emotions. Her interest. Her restlessness.
All touchy.
Tommaso Rossi was entirely to blame.
How did that presentation for your project go?
“Are you even listening to me, Cam?”
Camilla continued staring down at the screen of her phone despite how irritated August sounded. It was nothing, she thought. Nothing but a simple, stupid text from Tommaso that should not have sent her into an emotional tailspin.
Hell, it had now been three whole months since she last seen the guy face to face. Sure, they texted back and forth, and occasionally she called to actually hear him speak. That was about it, though. Their conversations were never too deep or involved.
They stuck to chatting about day to day things, and what the other was up to, if it was anything interesting. He never asked about personal shit—dating, guys, her family, or otherwise. She didn’t ask him about those things, either.
One simple text from him should not make her world tilt on its entire axis. Like the world had slowed, tipped, and then started spinning in the opposite direction all of the sudden.
Yet, there the text was.
And here Camilla’s world was.
Like a fucking Merry-Go-Round or something.
“Cam!”
Finally, Camilla looked up from her phone. “Yeah?”
August glared at her from across the bedroom. “What is up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Like you didn’t just stare at your phone for ten whole minutes, and ignored me when I called your name over and over again?”
Camilla tossed the phone to the bedspread, and gave August all of her attention. “Sorry, August. That dress looks nice.”
August pursed her lips, and gave Camilla a look that voiced her displeasure without ever saying a word out loud. Camilla swore her friend was too damn good at that shit, and it could make her feel like a child being scolded.
“Seriously, the dress is nice,” Camilla said. “Actually, nice is kind of understating it.”
“You think?”
“It’s awesome, and you look great in it.”
Camilla wasn’t lying to placate her friend. The dress did look fantastic, and August pulled it off spectacularly. Despite wavering on buying the dress earlier because of the price tag, Camilla figured August would find the purchase more than worth it now.
With a little spin to face the mirror, August smoothed her palms over the maroon-colored club dress. The shiny beading on the low cut neckline sent sparkles casting a rainbow over her dark skin. She had pulled her micro braids into a high piled, wrapped bun at the top of her head, and used dark kohl to line her eyes, and red lipstick to emphasize her pout. The five inch heels topped the whole outfit and look off, really. It was just enough sex and sass mixed with sophistication.
Her friend might have only been eighteen, but she looked every inch of twenty-one in that dress and those shoes. Once Camilla was all dressed up, and they met their friends at the club, she had no doubt the group would have zero issue with getting past the bouncers at the front. Likely without even having to flash their fake IDs.
Besides, the majority of Camilla’s friends were legal age to get inside the clubs and drink. She was edging closer to not even needing a fake ID at all, now that she was twenty. She wondered if partying in a club would still be as fun when she was no longer breaking the rules just to do so.
In her distraction, Camilla’s gaze had wandered back to the bed, and the phone still sitting face down on the bed spread. All over again, her thoughts jumped right back to Tommaso Rossi, and his goddamn text.
He was like a habit she couldn’t kick. Problem was, it had been a long while since she had gotten a fix of him.
Maybe that was the problem. Camilla just needed one more round with Tommaso, and she could get this lingering desire and confusion out of her system. She wasn’t really sure it would work, though, all things considered.
Like the part of her that missed him. A part that wished they had been given just a little more time to … well, to do anything together.
“Are you wearing the gold dress or the black jumper?” August asked.
Camilla glanced away from the phone. It wasn’t like she needed to be caught staring at it again, or for August to think she was ignoring her. “Probably the gold dress.”
“You’re the only bitch I know that can pull it off.”
She smirked. “Yeah, I try.”
August spun back around to face Camilla. “Well, hurry up and get dressed. It’s Jill’s birthday tonight, and we still need to pick something up for her.”
“Yeah, yeah. Chill.”
She took her sweet time getting dressed, brushing her hair into a simple chignon, and then slipping on her heels. She took the most time with her makeup because unlike August, a splash here and there did nothing for Camilla. She liked the whole damn face to be done with some kind of edgy style to stand out in the crowd.
The two friends were just different in that way.
“You know,” August said as she fixed a pair of Camilla’s bangles onto her own wrist, “I thought you would be more excited about going out tonight.”
“I’m excited.”
“Really?”
Camilla shrugged, and dug through the closet to find a clutch and coat to match her outfit. “I mean, yeah, I guess. It’s been a little while since I’ve been out.”
She came out of the closet to find August staring at her in the oddest way.
“What?”
“A while?” her friend asked. “Cam, it’s been like … three months since you were out and did anything like this.”
Had it?
Camilla thought back, and realized August wasn’t overstating it. Actually, she hadn’t partied since that gathering at Zeke’s where she met Tommaso for the first time. She could easily blame it on school as that had picked up, and kept her busy. Some test, a new project, lecture, or whatever else. Something for family usually kept coming up as well. Not to mention, just the day to day things for life.
Although, none of those things had ever made a difference for her in the past. If she wanted to go out and have a good time, then that’s exactly what she did. If she wanted to go out and pick up some guy or girl to make her night a little better, then that’s what she did when the desire arose.
Truth was, Camilla just hadn’t been in the mood. Not for partying, or for random sex with a stranger.
“I guess it has been a while,” Camilla said as she shrugged on a trench coat. The wide belt would cinch tight at her waist, and show it off beautifully. “All the more reason for me to enjoy it tonight, right?”
August smiled. “Right, babe. So hey, who was texting you earlier? Was that why you were acting like aliens had eaten your brain?”
Camilla laughed. “It was nothing, so let’s go.”
Not nothing, her heart whispered.
Tommaso had remembered a project presentation Camilla mentioned she had coming up. She randomly brought it up in a conversation to him almost two weeks earlier when she had to let him go to head out in order to work with a partner on the project.
Today, it had been due.
Camilla decided to go out to her friend’s party at the club with August as a way to celebrate finally getting it done, and the great initial remarks from the professor.
But what really made her day? The thing that made her world tilt on its axis?
Tommaso remembering without prompting. Him asking.
She added it to the growing pile of things about Tommaso that kept making her like him more and m
ore. Another thing to make her hesitate on deleting his number in an attempt to break the habit he was now becoming to her. Something else about him that made her think there was far more to Tommaso than she really knew.
More things she might want to learn.
Camilla wasn’t supposed to be that girl. The girl that got heartsick over a guy she barely even knew.
But fuck …
Here she was.
Camilla sipped on the green Grasshopper martini at the bar as she mulled over the text on her phone. She should be out on the dance floor with August working off some of the calories from the sweet drinks, or upstairs in the VIP room with the rest of their friends celebrating Jill’s twenty-second birthday.
But nope.
Instead of doing those fun things, Camilla was leaning against a bar, ignoring the dancing crowd behind her, and staring at a text. The same text Tommaso had sent her earlier, but she had yet to reply. She didn’t give him a response to his message, but he also hadn’t prompted her again, either.
Like he was the hunter, and she was the prey.
The guy was waiting on her.
Just like he said.
Sighing, Camilla set the phone down and emptied the rest of her glass without hesitation. Already, she was two drinks beyond the limit and wouldn’t be driving home.
“Hey, are you going to come dance with us, or what?”
August’s too-high voice told Camilla her friend was also feeling a little too tipsy to be driving them home. Camilla spun around just in time to see August winking and waving her fingers at a guy, gesturing for her to come back out on the dance floor.
Then, her friend’s gaze was back on her in an instant. “Well?”
“I’m good. My feet are sore.”
August looked down at the heels Camilla wore with a raised brow. “Really? Because you wear higher heels than those to workout, Cam.”
Jesus.
Why did August have to know her so damn well?
“Also, that guy’s friend has been checking you out for the last twenty minutes.”
August pointed at the man sitting at a table a few feet away from the dance floor. Camilla found the guy was staring at her entirely unashamed at having been caught. He flashed her a cute grin which usually would have been something she took as a challenge.