Read Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) Online
Authors: Vivian Winslow
Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (22 page)
“You’re home early,” Norah says to Marshall as he walks into the living room.
“Where’s Poppy?”
“She was tired.” His mother shakes her head. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to know someone for almost forty years and see them start to disintegrate before your eyes. I swear, of all my friends to get the big C, I never thought it would be Poppy.”
The distant look in his mother’s eyes makes Marshall forget his own problems at the moment. “How is she, really?”
Norah shrugs. “Poppy won’t say. But I can see her spirit is different. She’s still fighting, but it’s taking so much from her.”
Marshall thinks he sees a tear in his mother’s eye, but can’t be sure. He can’t remember ever seeing his mother cry.
She takes a deep breath and waves him over to sit next to her on the gray suede sofa. “So, tell me, how was the rest of your day?” Norah pats his knee.
“I’ve had better.” Marshall leans back and stares out the tall windows that face the water.
“I thought you went to see that
girlfriend
of yours.” Norah nearly chokes when she says “girlfriend.”
“I did.”
The expression on her son’s face makes Norah want to smile, but she compels herself to show concern.
“Tell me, son. Is everything okay?”
“You don’t have to pretend you care, Mother. I know you don’t like Camila.”
“I hardly know her,” she replies, feigning offense. “We’ve had plenty of lunches and dinners since you moved back to New York and not once did you mention you were still dating her.”
“Maybe it’s because you failed to make a good first impression.”
“Put yourself in my place. How could I not assume she was some ho when she was dressed in your shirt
and
nothing else?”
Marshall gets up and starts pacing on the plush sheepskin rug. “I really like her. We met on this blind date, and I don’t think I’ve ever clicked with anyone like I do with her. It’s just good when we’re together.”
“So what’s the problem?” Norah asks.
Marshall stops pacing when he reaches the French doors to the terrace. “She’s a 3L at the law school,” he mumbles.
Norah feigns shock. “Tell me this whole blind date story is true then. Is she one of your students?”
Her son turns away from the door and shakes his head. “We saw each other twice before the semester started, and it never came up. Then there she is, in my class.” He puts his hands in his pockets and turns back to the view.
“So she is a student?”
Marshall shakes his head. “She dropped the class.”
Norah lets out an audible sigh.
“But . . . .”
His mother buries her face in her hands. “Dear God, don’t tell me she’s pregnant.”
“Of course not,” he replies.
“She’s Editor-in-Chief of Law Review.”
Norah lowers her hands. “The girl isn’t stupid.”
“I’m her advisor,” he mutters.
Norah clucks her tongue and shakes her head. Marshall thinks he can hear her mutter something about his father and men and their dicks. She stands up and walks over to him. “You would swear under oath that you met this girl on a blind date?”
Marshall nods.
“You did not abuse your position of authority over her as her professor or coerce her to do anything?”
Marshall shakes his head.
Norah does the same. “I believed you had more sense than your father.”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear, Mother.”
“So what now? You and Camila will live your happily-ever-after in secret until she graduates? Is that what you have planned?”
“She refuses.”
“So what? She wants to take it public? It will kill your career!”
“She won’t do that either.”
Norah’s eyes go wide. “She won’t date you will she?” She suppresses a smile. “That girl really isn’t stupid,” she repeats under her breath.
“I keep telling you that.”
The look on her son’s face makes Norah’s cold heart melt a little. Only he has the power to do that, and knowing that he’s hurt reaches that small bit of maternal instinct inside of her. She reaches up and pulls Marshall in for a hug. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Marshall doesn’t know what to do. He can’t remember when his mom last hugged him. He can only assume that since Poppy revealed she’s dying, his mom has made more of an effort to reach out and be there for him. He closes his arms around her waist and squeezes gently. “Thanks, Mom.”
Norah lets go and nods. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”
“I feel bad for the man,” Shoshana says, sipping her second mojito. “You are tough.”
“It’s never going to work. Short of him quitting, it’s too risky,” Camila explains. “I won’t let him become embroiled in some scandal because we acted irresponsibly.”
“Since when did love become irresponsible? Love is supposed to transcend everything.”
“I never used the word ‘love’, Shosh.”
“Whatever, it’s what you mean. It’s the reason why Marshall is willing to risk his job.”
“You said it. He’ll end up risking his job, which is his livelihood and his reputation.”
“But it’ll be fine because you two are meant to be together. I knew it right away. Besides, you’re only a student for six more months. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
“Long enough to cause trouble. I l. . . ,” Camila pauses.
“Were you about to say that you
love
him?” Shoshana teases.
“No,” her cousin replies too quickly. “I was going to say that I respect him too much to put him in that position.”
“It’s his choice though, isn’t it? More so than yours at least. You can only decide your fate, not anyone else’s.”
“What if those fates intertwine?” Camila sits up in her chair. “In that case, every decision you make impacts the other.”
“To a point, yes. However, the individual has to bear the responsibility.”
Camila shakes her head. “I hate that spiritual reasoning. It’s not clear-cut.”
“Love and life never are, C.C.”
Shoshana covers her face with a small towel and smiles. “I have to say though that I think you’re making progress. You’re close to admitting you love him, and you’ve clearly given the possibility of a relationship a lot of thought.”
“You don’t have to be so smug about it.”
“I’m not smug. I’m thrilled. I have a feeling it’s going to work out.”
Camila pulls her phone out of her bag and stares down at it. She taps her cousin who moves the towel off her face.
“What’s up?”
“It’s Marshall. He says it’s important.”
“Does he say what it’s about?”
Camila shakes her head. “Just that he wants to see me.”
“Why are you even debating it? The man deserves your time. If he’s willing to make the effort, and you lo . . . I mean,
care
about him, then you do the same.”
Camila sighs and reads the text again. She drums her thumb against the screen, all the words, feelings and thoughts she’s had over the past few months rolling around in her head. Shoshana’s right, she has made progress. Gone is some of the self-doubt that plagued her when Eliseo left. Gone too are the fears that led to her brief on-again, off-again thing with Marshall. She closes her eyes when she recalls how close she was to hooking up with Justin. To use one of his pathetic baseball metaphors, she’s O for three with men. Although can she count Marshall with the others? Her feelings tell her she can’t. She knows he’s different, and she’s different with him. He was right about how much they feel for one another, but not even he is in a position to promise her anything.
Camila drops her phone back into her bag and flags the waiter. She’s going to need another drink.
Shoshana slides the towel off her head. “Why are you still here?”
“There’s no point in seeing him now. It will only hurt us more. I think it’s best to leave it alone.”
“Go on, blow out your candle,” her mother encourages.
Camila does her best to smile and blows out the candle. She picks up a fork and takes a bite of the
tres leches
cake. It’s always been her favorite cake to have on her birthday. Although tonight, for some reason, it doesn’t taste as sweet. Camila sneaks a glance over at her father, who hasn’t said much throughout the entire dinner, and notices him push away his half-eaten slice.
“When are your exams?” Mari asks her.
“Next week,” Camila replies, running her spoon along the top of her cake.
“One more semester and then you’re finished. Are you looking forward to graduating?” Her mother asks, avoiding the subject of Camila’s near-future job at Cohen Real Estate.
Camila shrugs.
Is that how it’s going to be?
She wonders. Will she ever be able to tell her parents about her job? She wishes they could have their usual conversations about the neighborhood and friends and her father’s classes. There was always some lesson to be gleaned, some idea to share but tonight, nothing.
Her mother crumples up her napkin and throws it down on the table. “That is enough, both of you.
Basta
.”
Camila and her father sit up and stare at Mari. Rarely does she get this upset so when she does, they know to listen. “You two, such spoiled ingrates.” She points to the half-eaten chicken, rice and beans,
maduros
, and salad. “I make your favorite dinner, and cake, and what do I get? Where’s the respect? You’re going to mope on your birthday because your father is being a baby?”
“I am not being a baby. I’ve made my position clear, and she went ahead and took the job.”
“
Ay
,
cabron
. It was her decision. We raised Camila to be her own person. And when she does something you don’t like, you take it personally.”
“It
is
personal, Mari. She’s working for the family business.”
“And you are going to shame her for that choice? How long will you punish her for the decision that your father made.”
“It’s not about him.”
“It is all about him, not our daughter. She has a chance, Bernie. She has a future. It’s all we wanted for her.”
“Sometimes we make decisions we regret.”
Mari gasps.
“I don’t mean you,” Bernie backpedals. “I was referring to Camila and how she’ll regret this choice.”
“You can’t know that, Dad. You seem so sure I’m making a mistake. You don’t doubt any of your decisions, do you? Can you tell me one that you regret?”
Bernie regards his daughter carefully. Finally, he shakes his head.
“Then why do you assume that I will?”
“From personal experience.” He reaches across the small table, the same one where they’ve eaten all their birthday dinners together since Camila was born.
Twenty-six years
. Bernie shakes his head. “The pursuit of money kills you from the inside out. I don’t want to see it change you.”
“I won’t let it, Dad,” Camila assures him.
Her father remains unmoved though. “It’s not something you can promise. You’re too young to know how it corrupts.”
“Not that young anymore. You haven’t even asked what I would do as CEO.”
Bernie stares back at his daughter. “There’s only so much you can do,” he replies.
Camila shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Excuse me,” Camila turns away from the office door and addresses Marshall’s assistant. She waits for the middle-aged woman to stop typing.
“What is it, dear?”
“Is Professor James in his office?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Camila shakes her head. “We usually meet at this time to discuss Law Review submissions.”
“Ah,” the woman nods. “All Law Review matters will be addressed by the new advisor, Professor Riley.”
Camila is too caught off-guard to mask her surprise. “I . . . I’m sorry. As Editor-in-Chief, I wasn’t informed . . . .”
“You weren’t the only one, dear. You would think Professor James would’ve had the courtesy to give more than a week’s notice that he’s taking a leave of absence. But Professors in those ivory towers don’t have a clue. It’s not going to be easy filling his position.” She points to the opposite end of the corridor. “You should be able to find Professor Riley in her office now.”
Camila nods, unable to form the words “thank you.”
She moves through the rest of the day on auto-pilot. Of course she could call Marshall to find out why he decided to take a leave of absence, but it’s not difficult for Camila to figure out the reason. She had to wonder why he didn’t tell her sooner, but then remembered that important thing he wanted to talk to her about. Her heart drops into her stomach when she remembers that text. She never responded.
A shadow falls over Camila through the day and into the night as she mixes drinks at L. She wants to call her cousin, but she knows she’ll have to suffer through the I-told-you-to-see-him before she arrives at any constructive advice. In the end, she already knows what she has to do. What she doesn’t know is what she’ll say when she does.
“You look about as upset as I feel,” Felicity tells Camila.
“Todd and I are taking a break,” she continues, not waiting for Camila to speak.
“Isn’t taking a break about the same as a break-up?” Camila asks, grating horseradish over a blend of fresh apple juice and vodka.
“Usually, but it’s more complicated this time.”
Camila slides the drink over to Simone, a new waitress who replaced Gemma, and says, “Do I even want to know?”
Felicity shakes her head. “Men are just snakes. Sometimes you just don’t know which ones are the poisonous ones until they bite you.”
“Hard to imagine that about Todd, from what little I know.”
“Some people have pasts, you know,” Felicity informs her cryptically.
“And his isn’t easy to overlook?”
Felicity shakes her head and sighs. “What about you? Exams are finished, yeah? You should be on the other side celebrating.” She reaches for a bottle of bourbon and pours two shots. “Sadness demands bourbon.”
They quickly take the shots and allow the liquid to warm their insides. “Perfect for a cold night like tonight. I think it’s supposed to snow.”
“I was dating someone,” Camila confesses. “It was great, and then it wasn’t. Then it got a little messy, and now it’s not. I mean, it’s over, but now it doesn’t have to be . . . I think.” She rubs her left temple.
“Who gets to decide that?” Felicity asks.
“Me, I think. Unless his feelings have changed in a week.”
“Does he have any skeletons?”
Camila shakes her head. “Far fewer than any of the guys I’ve known.”
“That’s something to consider. From my experience, the longer you live and date in this City, the more skeletons you accumulate.”
“I don’t doubt it.”