“Cassie? About eight years.”
“Do you get lonely living alone?”
Emily startled at the question, and she wondered if maybe Camila was lonely in her big empty apartment. “Sometimes, but I’m not really here all that often, usually only nights and weekends. And I spend most of my free time with Maia and Cassie. Sometimes it’s hard to see how happy they are together. It makes me want that.”
“You’ll have it one day.” Camila’s voice was certain, and Emily wished she could be as confident. “Maybe with your friend… Megan, was it?”
“Oh, things with Megan are just casual,” Emily said. “She’s still hung up on her ex, and I…” She trailed off, deciding what to say besides “and I’m hung up on you.” “I don’t know if I’m ready for anything serious right now.”
Camila stared into her drink.
“What about you?” Emily asked, picking up the thread. “Have you, um, seen Stephen again?”
“Are you really asking me about my love life?” Camila asked, raising her eyebrows. Emily shrugged. “No, I haven’t. He was… Well, he was so incredibly boring. Dating at my age is…unappealing. I think I’m going to give it up.”
“Don’t you want to find someone? Someone who treats you better than your ex-husband?”
Camila looked at Emily, surprised that she would mention Chris. “Honestly, I don’t know if there is anyone out there for me.”
“There’s someone out there for everyone,” Emily said.
Camila smiled, but without joy. “That’s very idealistic, Emily, but…I’m not so sure it’s true. It’s all right, though.” Camila drained the last of her scotch. “I don’t need anyone else.”
Emily didn’t believe her.
Camila shifted her gaze to Emily’s bookcase and changed the subject. “You have quite a collection of games.”
In fact, her bookcase had almost nothing but games. She didn’t own many books, and most of those she did own were still in a box under her bed.
“Oh yeah. I’ve built it up over the years. When me and Cassie were teenagers, we played a lot of games, especially after my foster dad passed away. It kept our minds occupied,” she said, recalling the dark days. “And I played games with my roommates in college.”
Camila was scanning the collection.
“Do you, um, want to play something?” she asked, not expecting Camila to say yes.
“How about Scrabble? Or Catan.”
“Either one. Let’s start with Scrabble.”
Not surprisingly, Camila was very good, and she won the two games they played. Feeling defeated, Emily suggested they move on to Catan. She was usually a formidable opponent.
But Camila was better.
“No fair,” Emily whined when Camila flipped over a card for the winning point. “Rematch?”
Before Camila could agree, the bedroom door creaked, and Jaime wandered into the room, rubbing his eyes.
“Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good nap?”
He nodded, and Camila lifted him up onto the couch to sit between them. “Hungry,” he said after a few minutes. Emily grinned; the kid had his priorities straight.
“Should we get you home for some food?”
“Want to stay here.”
“I don’t know if I have any food for you here, bud,” Emily told him. She wasn’t actually sure what was in her cupboards. Maia often cooked dinner for her and Cassie, horrified that between them they could barely fry an egg.
“Can we look?” Jaime asked.
“If Emily doesn’t mind.”
Emily carried Jaime to the kitchen, setting him on the counter, Camila following behind.
“So full disclosure. I don’t even know what food I have.”
“How can you not know what’s in your own kitchen?”
“Um…because I don’t cook,” she said sheepishly.
“Then what do you eat?”
“Well, the nights when I don’t eat at yours”—a perk of the job she was going to miss whenever she moved on—“I usually end up at Cassie’s place. Maia cooks. Sometimes she cooks here. If I have anything here to fix, that’s why.”
“What if no one’s around to cook for you?”
“Um, takeout. Usually. It’s not that I don’t want to cook, I’m just really terrible at it. I set off the smoke alarm. A lot.”
“Well, let’s see what I can teach you that’s relatively easy.” Camila reached for a packet of penne. “We’ll make pasta for Jaime. Can you at least boil some water?”
Her eyes sparkled with the tease. Emily stood close enough to see flecks of gold in green. Camila’s perfume invaded her senses, and she was so, so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her.
“I’m not completely inept.” Emily pretended to be offended as she grabbed a pot.
“Hmm. You do usually feed my son, right?”
“Yes.”
Jaime was less sleepy now, perked up at the thought of food. Emily gave him paper and crayons to keep him occupied.
“What are we having?”
“I’m thinking risotto. Although that would depend on you having vegetables, which seems like a long shot.”
“Excuse you, I own multiple vegetables. They are just frozen.”
Camila looked in the freezer and nodded. She dug out two pans, dumped broccoli and carrots in one and rice in the other.
“Do you want me to do anything?” Emily asked. She felt useless, standing in her own kitchen while Camila did the work.
“No, it’s all right. I wouldn’t want you to set off the smoke alarm.” She was smiling, clearly in high spirits.
Emily stared, pretending that she was interested in what Camila was making, but in truth she was simply mesmerized, unable to look away. She barely listened when Camila explained what she was doing.
She dreamily reveled in the domesticity of Camila in her kitchen cooking her dinner while Jaime colored nearby. It was something she desperately wanted, wished she could have every day, and the surprising depth of that desire took her breath away.
Her thoughts were cut off by her phone. If it was Cassie, she was going to ignore it. But it was Megan, and Emily mouthed an apology to Camila as she turned her back and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hey.” She felt almost guilty for imagining life with Camila when this morning she had woken up next to Megan. She wasn’t doing anything wrong—she and Megan were casual and would never be more—but it didn’t sit right.
“Hey. So this totally sounds like an excuse to see you again, but did you notice a pair of keys at your place? I can’t find mine, and I think they might’ve fallen out of my pocket last night.”
“Oh. Um, hold on, I can look.” She kept her phone in her hand to keep Camila from seeing Megan’s name on the screen and checked around and under the couch where Megan had tossed her jacket. The glint of a keyring caught her eye. “Got them.”
“Great. Could I swing by and pick them up later? I’m with clients until eight. If that’s too late, I can try and get there earlier.”
“No, eight is fine.”
Camila should be long gone by then, and Emily thought maybe she and Megan should talk because she didn’t know if she could keep up casual sex when she clearly had feelings for Camila.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Everything all right?” Camila asked. Emily nodded.
“Yeah, someone lost their keys.” She held them up, relieved that Camila didn’t ask whose they were.
Dinner was delicious, and then they played a couple of rounds of Uno with Jaime until he started yawning.
“Thank you for today,” Camila said, lingering at the door. If this had been a date, it would be the moment for a goodbye kiss. “I had fun.” She said it like she didn’t usually have fun, and Emily’s heart broke a little for her; Cami
la must not have anyone outside of Jaime, not really.
“You’re welcome any time,” Emily said, and she meant it, because she had had fun too, and wouldn’t mind more weekends like this. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Emily settled in front of the TV to catch up on some Netflix shows. Precisely at eight, there was a knock on her door.
“Hey.” Megan smiled warmly, and Emily tried to return it, but she must have failed because as Megan walked in, she asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… Can we talk?” She hated that phrase because nothing good ever came after it. Megan’s eyes widened slightly.
“Sounds serious.”
“It’s not,” she quickly reassured her. “There’s just…a few things on my mind.” They sat side by side on the couch, Megan right on the edge, like she might bolt at any moment. “I wasn’t really honest with you the other day. I said I wasn’t ready for anything serious after my last relationship—which was a mess. I didn’t lie about that.” Emily hadn’t really planned this conversation; her thoughts were jumbled, and she struggled to make some kind of sense. “But I, um, I’m kind of hung up on someone else. I thought if I went out with someone who was smart and cute and funny that it might…help get my mind off of her, but it didn’t. So I don’t know if I can do this”—she gestured between the two of them—“anymore. I’m really sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun last night and I’m kinda sad it won’t happen again, but don’t be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Megan reached out and squeezed her hand. “As long as we can still be friends, because God knows I could use a few more in this city.”
“Me too,” Emily admitted.
“This woman you’re hung up on—it’s your boss, isn’t it?” Megan asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little,” Megan said. “Plus you kinda looked like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar this morning. I don’t blame you for being hung up on Camila freaking Evans.”
Emily flushed.
“And for what it’s worth, she didn’t look happy to see me this morning, so maybe there’s something there.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t want to think too much about that, though, not tonight, so she changed the subject. “Want to stay a while and watch a movie?”
“I actually promised my roommate I’d be home for dinner tonight. Raincheck?”
“Sure.” Emily saw her out, and they hugged at the door. She was glad that, although things hadn’t worked out romantically, she at least had another friend in the city that was starting to feel like home.
* * *
Camila slammed the door when she arrived home on Monday night. Jaime’s head was on Emily’s knee and there was a movie on TV, but it wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out the edge in Camila’s voice. It sounded like she was on the phone with her ex-husband.
“Are you fu—”
Emily clamped her hands around Jaime’s ears.
“—cking kidding me?” Camila hadn’t moved from the hall, but Emily could still hear every word. “And you couldn’t reschedule? Did you even try?” A pause, then, “Oh, save it.”
Emily glanced over the top of the couch. Camila rested her shoulder against the wall, eyes cast down, but then she took a breath and forced a smile as she made her way toward her son.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Go hug your mom,” Emily whispered in his ear, helping him off the couch. He scurried over to her, and Camila scooped him up. He yawned.
“Are you tired?”
“Wanted to see you before bed. Will you read me a story?”
Camila’s squeezed him a little tighter. “Of course I will.” She glanced at Emily.
“I’ll tidy up a little.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know, but you look like you’ve had a long day.”
“Thank you.” Camila took Jaime down the hall, and Emily collected the toys that were scattered across the room.
She was emptying the dishwasher when Camila padded back into the living room.
“Everything all right?” Emily asked. Camila answered by reaching for a bottle of scotch and pouring herself a generous amount.
She drank deeply from the glass. “It’s my useless ex-husband,” she sighed, and sat at the breakfast bar, gesturing for Emily to sit beside her. “Every December I spend a few days at the CEBC offices in London. They’re the headquarters for our Europe operation, and I like to check in, make sure everything is running smoothly.
“Usually Christopher comes with me—he has family in England, so he takes Jaime to spend time with them. He assured me he would go this year, except now he’s decided that he has to go to a conference that week instead. So now I have to find childcare at one of the busiest times of the year, on top of everything else I’ll have to deal with.”
“Wow. That’s really shitty.”
Camila turned to look at Emily, surprised.
“What? It is.”
“I know, but I didn’t think that word was in your vocabulary.” Camila smiled.
“I can watch him, you know,” she offered—it was her job, after all. “While you’re gone.”
Camila gazed at her thoughtfully, and Emily wondered if she had overstepped.
“If you wouldn’t mind me staying here, that is. I could take him to my place, but I don’t have anywhere for him to sleep. I could take the couch, I guess, or—”
“Emily.” Camila held out a hand, stopping her mid-ramble. “It’s not that. Of course you could stay here. It’s just… I’ve never been away from him for that long,” she said, her voice low. “He’s still so young, and it’s the holidays, and I…I don’t want him to think that he’s not important.”
“He knows he’s important to you,” Emily assured her. “He does. Can’t you take him with you? Could your assistant keep an eye on him? He seems to get along well with her.”
“I’ll need her with me. And there’s no one else to take, unless—” Camila appraised her, and Emily sucked in her breath under her gaze. “No.” Camila shook her head. “No, that’s a ridiculous idea.”
“What is?”
“I thought…” Camila’s voice trailed off again. “I thought perhaps you could come too.”
Emily’s eyes widened.
“I’d pay for everything, and you’d also be paid regular wages, of course, but—”
“Yes.” Emily didn’t even need to think about it: an all-expense paid trip to London with her favorite tiny human—and Camila?
She couldn’t think of anything better.
“Yes? You’re sure? You don’t need time to think about it?”
Emily shook her head. “My answer’s not going to change,” she said. “I’d love to come. If you’d like me to.”
“I would like that very much.” Camila held her gaze for a long moment. Emily held her breath. Then Camila blinked and looked away. “And I think Jaime would too.”
Chapter 11
Wednesday was Halloween, which marked the start of the holiday season, Emily’s favorite time of year.
“Can I put my costume on now?” Jaime asked the second Emily arrived, and she laughed at the look on his face.
“I think it’s a little early yet, buddy,” Emily said. “Let’s give it a few hours, okay?”
“I give it two before you cave,” Camila said, leaning down to kiss the top of Jaime’s head. “I’ll pick him up from your apartment later tonight.”
“Perfect.”
“How about now?” Jaime asked as soon as Camila left. Emily made it until after lunch before letting him change. She sent Camila a text showing a triumphant Jaime in his astronaut costume.
“Are you excited, buddy?” Emily asked as they made their way to her apartment building
.
“Yeah!” He looked around at the dozens of kids already out trick-or-treating. He held his own little pumpkin-shaped basket tightly in his hands.
Emily was dressed as a witch. She wore a black floaty dress and a pointy hat, Halloween-themed tights covering her legs.
When they arrived, she let Jaime loose on the first floor. It wasn’t long before his basket was nearly overflowing with candy.
“Do you want some?” Jaime asked, when they returned to Emily’s apartment. He held the basket out to her.
“You sure, buddy?”
“Yeah, wanna share.” He curled up on the couch beside her, and they watched Hocus Pocus, her favorite Halloween movie, ate candy, and waited for Camila.
She arrived just as the movie ended. Emily answered the knock and let Camila in.
“You have Halloween decorations?” Camila took in the props and cutouts scattered around Emily’s apartment. “Do you decorate for every holiday? If I came over for Thanksgiving, would I find turkeys hanging from the ceiling?”
“Would it really surprise you if I said yes?” Emily asked.
“No, I suppose not.”
“And, um, you could come over for Thanksgiving, if you want.” Emily didn’t really think before extending the offer, and Camila blinked in surprise. “It’s at my sister’s, and you don’t have to, but you’d be more than welcome to join us. If…if you wanted.”
If it was inappropriate for her to ask, it was too late—the words were already out there.
“I… Maybe,” Camila said, and she was saved from elaborating by an enthusiastic astronaut thumping into her legs. “Hi, Jaime,” she laughed. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“The best! I got so much candy! Come look!” He took Camila’s hand and pulled her over to see his basket.
“I hope all those wrappers aren’t yours, young man.” Emily sheepishly gathered the pile of empty wrappers and threw them into the trash.
“Most of those are mine,” she admitted, “but you didn’t mind sharing, did you, buddy?”
Jaime shook his head.
“I tried to keep him from eating too much,” she told Camila. “I didn’t want him to be too hyper for you.”
Never Say Never Page 11
