I turn to see Jett standing a block down and throw him a salute before racing toward Enchanted to find Mila.
********
I struggle to catch my breath as I reach for the shop handle, finding it locked. Walking to the window, I press my face to the glass, straining to see inside. It’s dark, except for some light coming from the very back. I try the front door again. When it still doesn’t budge, I
begin knocking. Then, knocking turns to pounding until my knuckles burn. When I start yelling, people poke their heads out of nearby shops, but I turn back to the shop as I hear a bell ring, my heart beating in anticipation of seeing Mila. Cold blue eyes meet mine, and I know I’m in trouble.
“Shit,” I mumble, running my hand over my face.
“Shit is right, you asshole!” Bea yells. Leaning past me, she informs the spectators, “Show’s over, folks. Back to work!”
“I just need to talk to her. Please, let me explain.” I know it’s pointless to argue with her, but I have to try.
“Not happening.” She blocks the door. “You have no idea what your little stunt has done to her. How much it has set her back. I encouraged her to get out there, so now I feel like a shitty friend. I’m a pretty good judge of character, but you went and proved me wrong.” Her finger stings my chest as she pokes me, enunciating every word.
“It’s not what you think, if you just let me in,” I argue.
“No! Maybe she will come around, maybe she won’t. But she’s humiliated and doesn’t want to see you right now. Where’s slutty country club Barbie?” She looks around me.
“Bea—”
“Remember what I told you the night you met? I meant it. I will cut you right now on this sidewalk.” I back away, doubtful as I eye all five feet of her, but still cautious. “I grew up in Chicago. Try me, I dare you!”
“Whoa, whoa! Okay, tiger, calm down.” I try to reason with her as she steps back inside. The lock sounds like a shotgun as she flips it into place.
“Let’s try this. Leave. Now. Or. I’m. Calling. The. Cops!” she yells through the glass.
“I’ll be back,” I warn her.
And I will. I just have to come up with a plan.
Chapter 17
Camilla
Replaying the day in my mind makes it worse. Pain rips through me as my brain struggles to understand what the hell is going on. After Bea threatened to call the cops, Carter finally gave up and left. Torn between wanting to see him and wanting to crumble, I ignored his pleas. Humiliated and confused, I needed to think. Once we were sure he was gone, she drove me home and helped me to bed. Now, Bea lays beside me in the dark, refusing to leave me alone.
"He approached me. He came on to me. And like a lust-struck fool, I fell for every word, melted at every touch. He left after I gave him my body, and I believed him when he explained why," I whisper, my voice quivering. "What a joke I must have been to them. Then, she shows up to flaunt her engagement, wanting a dress. Why? What's the point? Was it all a game?"
Her grip on me tightens. "I'm not sure. Maybe he did it to make her jealous? Maybe it wasn't a game at all. Maybe there's more to the story."
"Why would someone who looks like a Barbie ever be jealous of me?" Curling tighter into myself, I try to control the sobs.
He made me feel sexy when I'd always just felt average. I was hesitant to believe he wanted me, but when he looked at me, it was like he was drinking me in. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over before it even started.
At least he left before I could give him more—like my heart. But just because I didn't give it away, doesn't mean it's not his. It just spares me the humiliation of him knowing what else his little game cost me.
Chapter 18
Carter
My muscles burn, lungs screaming for air as my feet pound the pavement. I should have known better than to get involved with anyone until AJ was completely out of my life. But I didn't count on falling for Mila. She was supposed to be like the others—just one night. Now that I've had her, I know one night will never be enough.
She won't take my calls, she's not returning messages, and I'm all messed up trying to figure out how to get her to give me a chance.
A chance to explain. A chance to make it right.
I slow my pace as I near my condo, and pull out my phone. I need a plan—one that’s going to take a lot more than chocolate cake. Hitting “talk,” I call the one person who might be able to help. Three rings in, Jett's deep voice greets me. "Hey, man. What's up?"
"I need your help," I start, then proceed to fill him in on what I have in mind.
"I'm in. Glad to hear you're stepping up your game and leaving the baked goods to the girl scouts," he jokes.
"Ha-ha," I reply, my voice laced with sarcasm. "I really appreciate it. I'll be in touch."
"No problem." The line falls silent. Now, for a shower.
********
Camilla
"Knock, knock," a soft voice calls out. Lifting my head from the gorgeous, custom, gold sequin gown I’m finalizing for this weekend’s wedding, I see Lexi walking toward me. It's a mystery location, which is odd, but I'm learning wealthy people can be a little eccentric.
"Hey, Lexi," I offer, my tone cheerful. It's been too long since we've hung out. Between Marco and her café, she stays pretty busy. And I've sort of been living under a rock and burying myself in work—anything to keep me from giving in and calling him.
"What do you have there?" My eyes hone in on the large, white box in her hand. It's been a couple weeks since Carter has sent anything to the shop, but I’m still a little hopeful.
"Oh, this? This is nothing," she teases, setting down the box to reveal what's inside. "Just a new chocolate raspberry ganache torte I've been working on. Figured you might like to try it."
"Oh." The disappointment slips out before I can stop it, even though it's wrong. I don't want to talk to him, but I still want him thinking of me.
"Looks amazing!" I gush, but my attempt at a recovery doesn't fool Lexi.
"Awww, Mila. I'm so sorry." She pats my shoulder, a small frown touching her lips. "I didn't even think." She knows me too well.
I look around the room, avoiding her gaze. "It's crazy, I know…" My breath catches in my throat as confused emotions war inside me.
"What's crazy?" Bea comes bustling in.
"How amazing this dessert is gonna be." My voice is all vibrant cheer as I plaster a smile on my face.
"Mila," Lexi warns, crossing her arms, challenging me, before turning to Bea. “She's upset this wasn't one of Carter's special deliveries," she says, totally ratting me out, inciting Bea to shoot me the I told you so glance.
"Just for that, I'm taking this whole dessert for myself." I stalk toward the chocolaty goodness, but it's yanked from my reach before I can dig in.
"Oh, no you don't," Lexi says. "Admit it. It's okay to say how you feel. I know you miss him. We've seen you mope around for weeks, and we just want you to be happy. Maybe it's time to call him back."
"We're not gonna judge you," Lexi adds.
"Speak for yourself, Lex. I'm pretty sure there might be judging on my part." Bea always knows just when I need her comic relief.
"All I'm trying to say is, deep down, only you know what you want. You just have to decide whether you're willing to forgive and give him a chance in order to take what you want."
I take a seat and soak in her advice—words I don't want to hear, but know I need. You can always count on Lexi to give it to you straight.
"It doesn't matter whether you just met him, or have known him your whole life, sometimes when you know, you know. Don't waste time trying to fight it," she continues.
And I know she's referring to her and Marco. I didn't live here when everything went down between them, but from what she's told me, she put up a hell of a fight. Everything worked out in the end, and now, they're one of the happiest couples I know.
"Okay. That's enough advice for one day. Let's dig into this desse
rt." She smiles.
"Thanks, Lexi. For everything," I tell her, offering a genuine smile this time.
"So, what's this mystery dress all about?" she asks.
I open my mouth to respond, but Bea jumps in, nearly bouncing with excitement. "Some wealthy couple hired Mila to make a dress for a surprise wedding at a tropical destination! And I'm going to be the photographer!"
"Oh, wow! That's incredible and extremely romantic," Lexi coos. "But what's with all the secrecy?"
"Bea is convinced it's a celebrity and we can't know anything until we get there so nothing gets leaked to the press," I explain in between bites of the decadent torte.
"How cool! I wonder who it could be? Wait, how did you make a dress for someone you've never met?" Lexi asks.
"They sent the measurements and a description of what they wanted. I'll do some final alterations when we arrive."
"They gave me creative freedom. The only request was that the dress be gold sequins and beads," I continue as I walk toward the mannequin and turn it to show Lexi the dress.
"Mila!" she gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "That's incredible," she says in awe as she admires the long gown with a plunging back.
"Thanks. I do love the dress, and this project has been the perfect thing to keep my mind busy," I confess as I run my fingers over the delicate beads.
"I wish I were going. You guys have to send me pictures. I'm dying to know who's wedding it is! I bet Mona is having a fit over this whole thing," Lexi exclaims.
"Yeah, she's pretty excited about all the business we've been getting since the Hampton wedding," Bea tells her.
"How is Mona?" Lexi questions.
"She's doing great. The doctors are shocked at how well she's recovering since her hip replacement. She keeps pestering them about when she can return to her dance class." Bea laughs.
"That's awesome. I’m so glad to hear it! Be sure to tell her I asked about her," Lexi tells her. "Well, ladies, I better be off. Sounds like you have some packing to do!"
"Thanks for everything, Lexi. It means so much." I hug Lexi, and we say our goodbyes.
"Well!" Bea claps her hands together. "Let’s go shopping for our trip! You need a slutty bathing suit."
"Bea! We'll be working," I remind her.
"That's what you said at the last wedding and look how that turned out," she throws back at me.
"Gee, thanks," I pout.
"What? Too soon?" she asks, smiling her wicked smile, leading the way out of the room.
When I’m certain she’s gone, I reach under my cardigan and touch the worn fabric of the Harvard shirt I just can’t seem to throw out.
Chapter 19
Camilla
"If you'll please return your seats to the upright position and buckle up, we're about to land," I vaguely hear in the distance. Still half asleep, I do as the flight attendant says.
Glancing out my window, there’s aqua water as far as the eye can see. It's beautiful. As we descend, my view becomes obstructed by buildings, and I close my eyes, imagining I'm in the water.
"Holy hotness! Who is that?" Bea digs her elbow into my side, jarring me fully awake.
"Ouch! Watch where you stick those things," I warn her, turning to see what has her jaw hanging open.
A large, brute of a man steps into the cabin, stretching and giving a peek of his toned, tan skin as his shirt rides up, and Bea makes a sound I'm not sure is human—kind of a half growl, half whimper.
"I have no idea, but where did he come from?" My eyebrows furrow as concern edges its way into my mind. "Bea, what if it's a trap? We're south of the border on a strange plane that appears to have been flown by Conan the Barbarian. This is weird."
"One, you watch too much TV. Two, I'd love for him to go south of my border,” she practically pants, and I laugh out loud.
"Ladies, I hope you enjoyed the flight." His deep voice, tinged with amusement, carries across the plane.
Bea leans over to whisper in my ear, "Busted!" And we totally were. It's been a few weeks since the "incident," and for the first time, it feels good to joke around with my friend. Lord knows she's put up with my somber mood lately.
"Yes. It was great. Thank you," I reply for both of us, while Bea continues to gawk.
"If you'll follow me, there should be a car waiting to take you to the resort."
Standing, we stretch our legs and grab our carry-on luggage, including the dress and her camera bag.
"You can leave all that. We will see that it makes it to you," he informs us as he reaches to take some of the bags.
"No one handles my camera but me," Bea says, finally finding her voice as she throws her camera bag over her shoulder. Typical Bea—very territorial about her equipment.
"Noted." Turning, he heads back to where he came from.
"Wow, Bea. Way to scare him off," I say on a laugh.
"What?"
"Nothing. Let’s go." Shaking my head in amusement, I lead the way.
"Enjoy your stay." The flight attendant smiles. "Please watch your step."
The warm air hits me instantly. The tinge of salt. The humidity. It's warm in California, but this is different.
"Welcome to paradise, baby!" Bea slides her giant sunglasses on and motions to a waiting car.
The entire drive, my face is pressed to the window like a child as I take in the beauty surrounding us. Arriving at the resort, the concierge shows us to our bungalow, and I'm at a loss for words. Bamboo walls, mixed with stone and shimmery tile. All the fabric and linens are white, bright, and refreshing. The smell of coconut fills the space as the salty air surrounds me. When we step farther into the room, the balcony curtains blow open, revealing a glimpse of what lays behind.
Crystal blue water, that appears endless, roars in the distance. And lush greenery, along golden sand. It's paradise, that's for sure.
Bea and I are both speechless, until a throat clearing catches our attention. "Senoritas, will that be all?" he asks.
"Gracias," I reply, my Spanish very limited, and offer him a tip. He bows and turns, leaving us to gape in privacy.
"Suit. On. Now," Bea orders. "The beach and drinks are all that's on the agenda for the rest of the day.”
"Okay," I agree, excited.
I adopt Bea's carefree attitude, and for the rest of the day, we indulge in relaxing. We don't talk about work, or weddings, or even Carter, but a part of me feels a bit guilty for still feeling like something is missing.
In the late afternoon, we return to the room to find a note saying a spa session has been booked for us, and I'm to bring the dress for the fitting around sunset.
Wrapping up the day at the spa, my body so relaxed, I feel like I could melt right into the floor, we head back to the room, and I change.
"Wear sexy panties," Bea calls out.
"Why would I do that?" My head tilts in confusion.
"What if you have to change in front of her? Sometimes, the elite like stuff modeled, and the dress is pretty much your size. If that happens, you really wanna be wearing boy shorts?" She has a point.
"Okay…well, that would be great if I thought to pack any," I say as a black satin pair slingshots into my face. Pulling them away, I glare at Bea.
"Just wear the damn things," she laughs, smirking.
“Well, here goes nothing," I tell Bea after I finish getting dressed. "It shouldn’t take too long."
"Don't forget your phone, and good luck."
I narrow my eyes at her too bright voice and creepy smile. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing, just thinking how great your hair and makeup looks from the spa."
Reaching up, I run my hand through the soft curls, and smile at my friend. "Thanks. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."
"Si," she says as I grab the dress and my kit before heading to the bride's bungalow.
********
I knock on the suite door and a beautiful young woman I assume to be the bride lets me in—until I notice her unif
orm. I glance around as she taps on my arm and hands me an envelope. Brows furrowed, I open it to reveal four simple words:
Put on the dress.
"Um, where's the lady from this room? Where did this come from?" I try to ask, holding up the envelope.
"No comprende." The girl shakes her head and gestures toward the bathroom before turning to leave. I shake my head, but do as the note says. The elite are really weird.
After I've dressed, I take a quick glance at myself, surprised by my reflection. Instead of an average girl, a beautiful woman stands before me. The dress hugs me in all the right places, and I wonder what it would be like to wear a dress like this for real, for me, for Carter.
Maybe it's the atmosphere, or the tropical drinks from the beach, but I feel hopeful. My life has turned out so different than I expected, but I feel like it's going to be okay.
Entering the main room, I walk to the sitting area to wait. An odd tingling starts at the base of my neck, and I can’t help but wonder if this is one of those moments when you’re supposed to listen to your instincts and flee. Looking down, I find a large chocolate cake and one fork, and my eyes jerk up as I scan the room, knowing my instincts were right.
"Mila, my gorgeous girl, you look good enough to eat." His raspy voice washes over me, and my insides flip-flop. Turning, my heart flutters as he leans against the door, dressed in a tuxedo, his bowtie undone.
If I thought Carter in a suit was hot, Carter in a tux is sin. I struggle to hold my ground and not run to him.
"What's going on here?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
"We're having a date," he states, matter of fact.
"No, I'm supposed to be here for an event," I argue.
"A date is an event," he counters, walking toward me.
"Carter…" I start, but lose my train of thought as he reaches me. His scent is exactly as I remember, warm and masculine with a hit of the ocean. I fight the urge to press my face against him and breathe him in.
St. Helena Vineyard Series: Something Borrowed (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 7
