Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (19 page)

BOOK: Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3)
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Chapter 48

 

Camila tugs at the plunging neckline of the silk dress. “It really doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” she complains.

“You’re in Miami. It’s perfectly acceptable to show a bit of skin.”

“Short and sleeveless are one thing. Transparent is a different matter.” Camila adjusts the strap of her sandals, also provided by Shoshana, who seemed determined to dress her for the entire weekend.

Shoshana opens the door of their hotel room and then shuts it quickly. “Before we go out and drink, I want to say right now, while we’re both sober, that I love you C.C., and you mean everything in the world to me.”

“You could also say that when you’ve been drinking, and I’ll know you mean it,” Camila jokes.

“I’m being serious. I would steal the moon if it would make you happy.”

“You are being so dramatic, Shosh. I get it though.” She leans in and hugs her cousin. “I love you too. Even though I’m still mad that you haven’t told me about this mystery man.”

“If he’s worth knowing after three months, I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Shoshana squeezes her tight. “Good, now that we got that out of the way, let’s go.”

“I thought we were going have dinner somewhere on the Beach.” Camila looks out onto Biscayne Bay as they go over the MacArthur Causeway.

“Change of plans,” Shoshana sighs scrolling through her phone. “Besides, not a lot of great places to choose from on the Beach unless you like stone crabs or steak.”

“You better not take us to Rosa’s.”

Shoshana gives her cousin a look. “You really want to think I’m that duplicitous, don’t you? There’s a ceviche and Pan-Latin place on Brickell Key that’s supposed to be really good. That enough information for you?”

Camila smiles. “Perfectly fine.”

And it’s all too perfect. Of course New York still has some of the finest restaurants in the country, but there’s something to be said for not having to sit in a cramped and loud dining room only inches away from other diners that doesn’t enable conversation.

Camila savors the fresh octopus ceviche along with the yellowtail and red snapper. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to move down to Miami?” She asks Shoshana for a second time. She hasn’t felt the absence of the grind and tension of her daily life in a long time.

“That’s the Pisco Sour and food talking. This city is way too laid back for you.”

“Maybe I need to be more laid back.”

“Or maybe you just need to find someone in order to get laid on a semi-regular basis,” Shoshana laughs.

“If emotions didn’t get in the way, M-,” she starts to say his name but clamps her mouth shut.

“You were saying?” Shoshana polishes off the rest of the tuna sashimi and smiles knowingly. “Marshall’s a better lover.”

“Don’t be so smug about it.” Camila’s face warms at the thought of him. When she thinks of him now, it doesn’t hurt as much it stings. She knows if she dwells on it long enough she’ll uncover the feelings of disappointment and regret so she pushes it away and orders another drink.

“I’m going to the restroom.” Shoshana rises to her feet. “Do me a favor and taste my drink when it arrives. They used too much agave in the last one.”

Camila studies the dining room in her cousin’s absence, from its high ceilings and dark wood paneling to the simple teardrop light fixtures, noting that its simplistic décor is more reminiscent of New York than Miami. Bright colored chair cushions that give the otherwise monochromatic space a pop of color is perhaps the only feature that closely resembles what her idea of Miami used to be. Even the eclectic and diverse crowd reflects her hometown more than the Miami she remembers from seven years ago when she last visited her mom’s family in Little Havana. She shakes out that last bit of information from her mind. When Eliseo had mentioned where he grew up, it seemed to be more than coincidence to Camila that her mother’s family lived only a few blocks from him. Not that she would ever say it was fate. No, despite her cousin’s arguments about destiny, she refuses to believe that she doesn’t have a say in the course of her life.

However, Camila won’t completely rule out signs either, like first meeting Marshall and his knowledge, however limited, about the Brooklyn Bridge. While it may seem almost inconsequential to most, Camila knew deep down it meant something far beyond what she was willing to admit at the time. The bridge had symbolized so much for her in her youth to regard it as anything else. Yet after Eliseo, she didn’t want to notice signs anymore, preferring to ignore them rather than risk getting hurt.

As soon as a table of four to her left gets up to leave, Camila spots a long table in a corner that she hadn’t noticed when she arrived. It’s hard not to stare at the beautiful women, two of whom are clearly twins, seated next to a woman who Camila can only presume is their mother based on the resemblance.

“Hey Shosh,” Camila says when her cousin returns.

“How’s my drink?” Shoshana asks.

“Too sweet. I got you something better,” she replies not looking at her. “Do you recognize those women at the table? They look familiar.”

“Where?” Shoshana asks, a bit too loud.

“Can you try being more subtle, please?”

“Oh, yeah, those are the Barons. Their mom is the one sitting next to Lily. Poppy and my mom have been friends for ages. They used to do some charity thing with their foundations years ago. I heard she’s . . . well, anyway.” She quickly sits down.

Camila continues to stare at them. “There’s someone else, but I can’t see her face.”

“I’m sure it’s just a friend.” Shoshana signals for the server. “Let’s get more sushi.”

Camila kicks her under the table.

“Oww, what the hell was that for?”

Camila gives her cousin a hard glare. “You set this up, didn’t you?”

Shoshana stays silent as the server approaches with her drink.

Her cousin shakes her head. “I should’ve known you were up to something. You always have to interfere don’t you?”

“No I don’t. If I did, you’d be sitting at that table with Marshall instead of being here with me.”

“That explains that speech before we left the hotel. If you loved me then you wouldn’t do this.” Camila brings her fingertips to her forehead. “Get the bill. We’re leaving.”

“But I just ordered more food.”

“Tell me why you’d do this.”

“It wouldn’t have worked in New York. You’re on neutral ground here. You two should at least talk.”

“We did talk. It’s over.”

Shoshana shakes her head. “I refuse to let you do this to yourself. You will make yourself miserable if you don’t give him another chance.”

“That’s my choice to make.”

“Your choices regarding men don’t seem to be serving you so well. Maybe try doing the opposite of what you normally do and see if that works.”

“You did not just say that to me.” She steals a glance toward the table.

“Truth or dare, C.C.” Shoshana raises her glass.

“I’m not playing.”

“So you’re going to act like a petulant child instead?” Shoshana shakes her head again. “Truth or dare.”

Camila glares at her. “I’ll play if you go first.”

“Fair enough,” Shoshana replies. “Then I pick dare.”

“I dare you to call this person you’re seeing and introduce me over the phone.”

Shoshana freezes. “Right now?” She asks quietly.

“You wanted to play,” Camila taunts her.

She slips her phone out of her black leather clutch. She unlocks her phone, presses two buttons and brings it to her ear.

“Why are you so nervous?”

Shoshana holds up a finger. “Hey, babe it’s me,” she says into the phone.

Camila holds out her hand, but her cousin holds up a finger and mouths. “Voicemail.”

“I was hoping to catch you. Anyway, I hope you’re having a good night.” She’s about to end the call when Camila snatches the phone out of her hand.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Who’s this? Where’s Shoshana?” A heavily accented voice says.

“Hi, this is Camila Cohen,” she says, smiling slyly at her cousin. “I’m Shoshana’s cousin.”

“Oh yes, hello. C.C. right?” he says. “She’s told me a lot about you.”

“That’s funny because I’m hearing about you for the first time tonight.”

“Ah yes, her three-month rule.” He chuckles. “How’s Miami? Is everything alright? Where is she?”

“She’s sitting right across from me.”

“I bet she’s pretty upset at you. Does she have those two lines between her eyebrows?”

Camila nods. “Absolutely.”

“She’s so cute when she gets angry. Tell my rose not to be mad. I’m happy to hear her voice.”

“You can tell her yourself.” Camila passes the phone back to Shoshana.

Her cousin listens to the guy on the other end, a smile slowly materializing. “That sounds wonderful,” she murmurs. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Shoshana sets down the phone, folds her hands and says, “Your dares are always too easy.”

“You are such a liar. You looked as if you were going to pass out when I was talking to him.”

“Maybe for a second, but then I remembered, I really don’t have anything to lose. So what if you speak to him for a minute.” She glances over at Marshall’s table. “That’s nothing compared with what you’re going to have to do.”

“I said Truth,” Camila reminds her.

“Oh no. After making me call Eitan, if you think you’re going to get off with that wimpy Truth thing, you are sorely mistaken. It’s either Dare, or I make a scene in this restaurant.”

“Eitan? He’s Israeli then? I thought I recognized the accent.”

“You’re stalling, cuz. One,” she begins to count.

“I want to hear about how you guys met.”

“Two,” Shoshana says.

“You are such an extortionist. You better tell me more about Eitan when this stupid dare is finished.”

“Oh, we’ll see if it comes to that. You ready?”

“Would it make a difference if I said ‘no’?”

Shoshana shakes her head.

“Then let’s get it over with so we can get out of here.”

 

Chapter 49

 

“What’s taking so long?” Camila glances over at his table a few times.

“See, you’re anxious to see him. Shouldn’t that tell you something?” Shoshana asks.

“As a matter of fact, I’m anxious to get this over with so you can tell me more about Eitan.”

Her cousin sets down her fork. “What do you want to know?”

“For starters, how did you meet him? And what is he doing in New York?”

“We met at a coffee shop near my apartment.” Shoshana conveniently leaves out the fact that even though she doesn’t like the coffee there, she kept going back when she noticed he routinely buys an espresso at seven every other morning.

“Okay then. And?”

Shoshana shrugs.

“How can you not know what he does for a living? You’ve known him how many weeks?”

“Six,” she replies.

“Then what’s the mystery?”

“No mystery. He works for the Israeli consulate,” she says, swallowing the last two words.

“Doing what exactly?” Camila grills her.

“Look, Marshall got your text. He’s on the move.” Shoshana’s eyes brighten, grateful to deflect that last question. She suspects her cousin won’t like the answer.

Camila sighs and slowly gets to her feet. “We’re not finished talking about this.”

“Yup, whatever. Good luck,” she says, waving.

Camila takes a deep breath to steady herself as she follows Marshall out of the restaurant. When she spies a cab slowing as it rounds the circular driveway, she realizes there’s nothing stopping her from getting in. Sure, Shoshana would give her a hard time about it later, but that’s later. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t keep her cousin off her back. She would just find another way to push her toward Marshall, and Camila wants a quiet weekend.

If talking to Marshall for five minutes will give her two days of peace, she can live with it, especially because she knows her cousin is right. Perhaps she needs to put whatever it was that she had with Marshall to rest if she ever intends to have another relationship. And if she can achieve all that from one brief conversation with him . . . then it’s worth it.
Just five minutes
, she assures herself.

Camila watches Marshall dial his phone. She feels hers vibrate. “Hey,” she whispers.

“Are you okay? Your text said it was important.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Then why is your voice so low?”

“No reason. I . . . I’m,” she clears her voice. “How was the marathon?” She finally asks.

“That’s what was important? The marathon?” He asks, bemused.

“Well, that . . . and to see how you’re doing,” she replies. Camila clutches her phone harder, her palms becoming sweaty.

Marshall doesn’t respond right away. He paces between two large planters. When he finally stops, he sighs and says, “I’m fine. And you?”

“Fine,” she replies in a clipped tone.

“Alright then, I should go. I’m in the middle of dinner with some old friends.”

“Yeah, I understand. Can you do me a favor?” She says.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Turn around.”

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