“Seven thirty.”
“Ugh.”
Emily fell back dramatically onto the couch. Camila walked over and looked down at her, a hand on her hip. She had just woken up but still looked gorgeous with the early morning light settling on her face and lighting up her features.
“Go to my room, sleep a little longer.”
“No, I’m good.”
Camila prodded her until she looked up at her again. “Go on. I’ll send Jaime in to wake you up before I leave.”
Emily didn’t argue this time, and she made her way to Camila’s room without falling down, Camila watching her every step.
Camila made some toast and finished her coffee. At eight sharp, there was a knock on the door. It was Jessica, as punctual as ever. She looked more put together than Camila felt, so at least one of them would be operating at full capacity.
She had about thirty minutes before they had to leave, just enough time for her to get Jaime up and dressed and his teeth brushed before she sent him in to wake up Emily.
* * *
Emily woke up to a five-year-old climbing on her chest.
It took her a minute to remember where she was. The room was dark and the sheets smelled of Camila. Jaime peered down at her, far too awake, in her opinion, as he tugged at the collar of her pajamas.
“Emily! Wake up! It’s time for dinosaurs!”
“Manners, young man.” Camila admonished him from the foot of the bed. She looked much better than Emily felt, considering she had had even less sleep than Emily.
“It’s time for dinosaurs, please.”
Emily shifted Jaime so that he was beside her instead of on top of her.
“All right, buddy, give me a minute to wake up, and then we’ll go find some dinosaurs.”
He scampered off, and Emily made her way back to her own room.
She dressed in record time, then hunted around the kitchen for something she and Jaime could eat before she wrestled him into some winter clothes. He wasn’t happy about the hat, scarf, or gloves, but he looked so cute that all the wriggling was worth it.
It would have been about a half hour walk to the Natural History Museum, but they took the scenic route, winding through Hyde Park. Jaime chased ducks and squirrels with glee, and Emily snapped an occasional photo to send to Camila. After the Natural History Museum, they spent the afternoon at the nearby Science Museum. Before she knew it, it was getting dark, and they headed back to the hotel, passing through the park again to avoid weaving through the throngs of busy Londoners.
When they got back, the suite was empty, but the kitchen was fully stocked. Emily wondered if Camila put in a specific order each year or if the kitchen was always stocked like that. She was riffling through the cupboards, looking for something easy she could make for Jaime, considering if instead she could get takeout delivered or if that would be frowned upon by the hotel staff, when her phone buzzed.
I’m not going to be back for a while. Order room service if you’re hungry and say goodnight to Jaime for me.
Emily abandoned her dreams of a greasy pizza for the time being and ordered spaghetti for Jaime and the cheapest steak on the menu for herself. When the food arrived, they ate on the couch while watching Frozen.
“You tired, buddy?” she asked. He had finished eating and was rubbing his eyes and yawning. She set her plate down on the coffee table when he nodded. “You wanna go to bed?”
“Okay.”
She gave him a bath and put him to bed with a story, then padded back into the living room, thinking she might join him soon.
She had hit a wall about three that afternoon. Her eyes had slipped shut while watching a movie about how the universe had formed. It was embarrassing, consider what she wanted to do with her life, but it was dark and no one had noticed.
She was wide awake now, though, and not even a long hot shower was going to make her ready for bed.
It was getting late and Camila still wasn’t back, so she dragged a chair over to one of the floor-length windows, grabbed her sketch pad, and sat down to draw the breathtaking view.
The park was well-lit, but the trees dimmed much of the light, and the London skyline was visible over the top of the shadows. She sketched the skyscrapers with as much detail as she could, wanting to immortalize the image so she never forgot that she had been there.
She was so immersed in her work that she lost all sense of her surroundings, and when she heard the door unlock, she jumped. She glanced at the clock and realized she had been sitting there for over an hour. She shifted, wincing as her stiff muscles protested at the movement.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in? We haven’t finished our conversation.”
It was a man’s voice and it had a suggestive lilt that made Emily’s skin crawl. She wondered if she could sneak back to her room without attracting any attention, because she was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to hear whatever came next.
“You can come in for one drink,” Camila answered. Emily was still frozen in place, thinking she might army crawl along the floor when she heard the click of Camila’s high heels. “If you’re on your best behavior.”
“When am I ever?” The man’s voice was too familiar, too teasing, and Emily could think of nothing except getting out of there right now. She was halfway to her feet when she saw Camila framed in the soft lamp light, and even though it was late, even though her makeup was a little smudged and her hair a little messy, even though she looked tired after a long day, she was still the most beautiful woman Emily had ever seen, and it was this image that she should be committing to memory, not the view out the window.
“Oh.” Camila’s companion appeared from behind her. His handsome face was framed by dark hair streaked with silver. His pressed suit screamed that he had money. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Yes.” Camila tore her eyes from Emily’s gaze to look between the two of them. “This is Emily, my nanny. Emily, this is Patrick, the head of the CEBC London branch.”
That explained the familiarity—he probably met with Camila every year. Emily wondered if he was always this flirtatious or if it was just because Camila was single now, and she hated herself for imagining the two of them at dinner earlier that night. She wondered if he had kissed her, wondered if Camila would let him if he had tried.
“Oh, of course, you brought your son. How is the little one?”
Emily was ninety-nine percent certain that he didn’t remember Jaime’s name but simply wanted to show interest to score points with Camila. A muscle twitched in her jaw.
“He’s fine. Had a good day, from the looks of it.” She turned to Emily. “Thank you for the pictures.”
Emily shrugged. “It was nothing.”
Patrick was looking at Emily like she was a bad smell, like she should disappear, and while she wanted to stick around just to piss him off, she also really didn’t want to hear him trying to get into Camila’s pants.
“I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”
“You don’t have to.” Camila stopped her, glancing at Emily’s sketch pad. “Finish your drawing.”
“Let’s go down to the bar for that drink instead,” Patrick suggested, placing his hand on Camila’s waist. Camila shrugged him off.
“I’m really pretty tired anyway,” Emily lied. She would say anything to escape. She felt trapped by the weight of Camila’s gaze, and she was sick at the sight of them together. He was perfect for Camila—similar status, similar age, could probably give her the world—and she wondered if this was what Camila had felt that night at the bar when she had seen the woman flirting with Emily.
She fled without another word, slipped into her room and into the bathroom, sinking down to the floor against the closed door. She put her head in her hands, her mind overrun by what might be happening in the other room, and she hated herself for caring, hat
ed herself for hurting, and hated herself for not being over Camila.
Last night had been so good with the two of them, it felt like such progress, and Emily didn’t know how much longer she could keep doing this back-and-forth—Camila icy one minute and friendly the next—because it was messing with her emotions almost more than she could bear.
She didn’t know how long she had sat there, but by the time she felt like she could move, it was nearly midnight. She still wasn’t tired, knew that it couldn’t be healthy, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
She grabbed her blanket and headed for the couch again, stopping in her tracks at the sight of Camila, glasses on her nose and laptop on her lap.
And she was alone. The relief that flooded through her nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Emily.” Camila turned to face her, and damn her for always looking so perfect. “I thought you were tired.”
“Oh. Um, I was, but as soon as I got into bed, I was wide awake again. You know how that goes.”
“Mm.” Camila looked straight through her like she knew Emily had been lying through her teeth before, like she had seen the pain in Emily’s eyes and knew that she was the cause. Emily couldn’t look at her, stared at the floor instead, and debated fleeing back to her room.
“What, um—” Emily’s words came out in a croak, and she cleared her throat to try again. “What about you? What happened to your…friend?”
“I sent him away.” Camila waved her hand as if to brush him off. “He was a little too forward. He thought he was entitled to a date, since I no longer have a husband.”
“Men are the worst.”
“Some of them are, yes,” Camila said. “Perhaps I should stick to women.”
Emily bit her tongue.
“And now I have some work to catch up on.”
“Does it ever end?”
“Not really.” Camila looked tired, but there was a spark in her eyes. Emily knew Camila loved what she did, and wouldn’t change a thing about it. “If sleeping next to Jaime is an issue, you can take my bed, and I’ll take yours or the couch.”
“Oh no, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“It’s fine.” Camila brushed her off. “From the looks of things”—she glanced at the blanket Emily was holding—“I am in yours right now. Honestly, Emily, at least one of us should be using it.”
She went because she didn’t want to argue, even though she wanted Camila to come with her, but she didn’t dare ask because, regardless of what Camila might answer, it would ruin things between them.
It felt like they were standing on a precipice, balanced delicately on the edge, and one wrong word would be like a strong gust of wind, shattering the peace.
Emily wasn’t willing to risk that move, not yet—she would stay in the torturous state she was in now rather than risk losing Camila for good. So she walked down the hall and slid under sheets that smelled like Camila, and when she fell asleep, she dreamed of black nightgowns, pale skin, and shining green eyes.
Chapter 19
The time in London passed too quickly. Emily explored the beautiful city with Jaime, visiting historical landmarks and tourist traps, dozens of shops, or just walking, taking in the sights of the city. One day they went ice skating against the backdrop of the Tower of London, Jaime clinging to one of the stabilizing penguins and Emily using it as much as he did.
Her days were filled with light and laughter, and she and Camila played games some nights or just sat with one other, existing in the same space in a way they hadn’t been able to since the kiss, and Emily really didn’t want the trip to end.
But it had to, eventually.
On their last night, Camila was already in the suite, having finished work early, when Emily and Jaime returned. She announced that she had obtained four tickets to a West End show.
Jessica declined, saying she needed an early night before traveling, and Emily wondered if she should decline too, whether Camila and Jaime should have a night to themselves, but Jaime—and Camila, she was pretty sure—threw her a hopeful look, and she knew she couldn’t say no.
They went for dinner at a fancy restaurant and sat hidden away in a booth in the corner, giving them the illusion of privacy. The lights were dim, and from across the table, Camila’s eyes reflected the light of the table lamp, and even though Emily knew it wasn’t, it was hard not to think of it as a date.
“What are your plans for the holidays, Emily?” Camila asked after they had ordered and Jaime was occupied with a coloring book.
“I’m going home.” As soon as Emily arrived back from London, she would be driving with Cassie and Maia to visit her family in Rockport, and she planned to spend the five-hour journey sleeping. “I haven’t seen everyone for a while, so it’ll be nice.” Last Christmas Sarah had come to Cassie and Maia’s place in the city, but she wanted to host this year. Emily was looking forward to a break from big city life for a few days. “We’re driving up as soon as I get back.” Camila wasn’t planning to work Christmas Eve, a Monday, so Emily could spend five days in Rockport before returning to New York.
“With your sister and her girlfriend?”
“Yeah. What about you and Jaime?”
“Well, since it’s just us”—Camila ruffled Jaime’s hair—“I think we’ll probably go to my place in the Hamptons, lock ourselves away from the world for a few days.”
“You have a place in the Hamptons?”
“Mm, about two hours outside of the city. It’ll be nice to get away.”
Emily wondered when Camila had last had a break when she could truly relax and just be.
“Are you excited for Christmas, Jaime?”
“Yeah, presents!”
Their food arrived in plenty of time for them to eat and walk to the theater down the street, but the sidewalks were busy, and when Camila slipped a guiding hand into Emily’s, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but she held on, praying that Camila couldn’t feel the pulse hammering in her wrist.
Because they were holding hands, and sure, it might only be to keep Emily from being swept into the crowd, but Camila’s hand was warm, her hold tight, and she was touching her for the first time in a long, long time, and it set her skin on fire.
Camila dropped her hand when they stepped into the theater, and that was probably for the best because Emily didn’t think she could speak with Camila’s hand in hers.
They sat in a private box. Emily leaned against the railing, peering at the people below. She hadn’t been to many shows in New York, other than an off-Broadway play when she had first visited Cassie, but this was a different kind of energy. She kept glancing at Jaime sitting beside her as he watched the entire show without fidgeting.
At the end, Emily rose to join the ground floor audience in a standing ovation. Camila’s eyes glinted with amusement, but Emily didn’t care. She was on top of the world, happiness flowing through her veins.
When they left, Emily slipped her hand into Camila’s, and she stiffened a little, but when Emily tried to pull away, terrified that she had ruined things, Camila caught her fingers, holding on tight and dragging her forward.
Emily didn’t let go until they reached the town car, waiting to take them back to the hotel. She felt like she was floating and stole furtive glances at Camila, Jaime fighting sleep between them.
The energy was different tonight. There was a charge that needed only a tiny spark to set it alight, and it made the hair on the back of Emily’s neck stand up.
Their time in London was nearly over, and that meant that their bubble was about to pop. Emily had no idea what would happen when they got back. She only knew that she never wanted this night—this night that brimmed with possibilities—to end.
When they got back to their suite, Camila put Jaime to bed. Emily wandered around the living room, finally coming to rest against
the back of the couch. She wasn’t ready to sleep—not yet.
“One last game of Monopoly?” Emily asked when Camila returned. “Winner take all?”
“You’re only asking because you’ve lost every single game we’ve played.” Camila stopped beside her at the couch, putting her hand on her hip. She had kicked off her heels, and she looked up at Emily, her eyes glimmering with challenge. If Emily dared to kiss her right now, she’d have to tilt up Camila’s head and lean in to press their lips together.
“Excuse you, I have won some.”
“Two games, Emily. Two. Out of about twenty.”
“I still won some.”
Camila’s chuckle coming from low in the back of her throat did things to Emily that made her mouth dry and banished all appropriate thoughts from her mind.
“Okay, I’ll play,” Camila decided. “You set up while I go get a drink. Do you want some wine?”
“No, thanks.” She wanted to keep her mind clear and was surprised when Camila returned with a glass of lemonade. “That doesn’t look like wine.”
“I didn’t want to drink alone.” Camila shrugged, even though she usually did, but Emily let it go and finished passing out the money for the game.
They played into the night, seated on couch cushions on the floor around the coffee table. Both of them were too competitive to quit, and they played until there was a clear winner.
Emily was gleeful as she took Camila’s last banknote, waving it victoriously.
“Nobody likes a gloater,” Camila told her with a sour expression.
“No one likes a sore loser either.” Emily fired back, grinning. Camila rolled her eyes.
After Emily had put the game away, she was reluctant to move, and when she looked up she found Camila gazing at her, her eyes soft, and for once she didn’t look away.
Never Say Never Page 20
