Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (3 page)

Chapter 6

“I love New York before sunrise,” Camila says as they continue along Centre Street.

“Same here. The City has so much energy during the day that I enjoy how still it is right before the dawn.”

Camila regards him out of the corner of her eye. They’ve been in each other’s presence for almost three hours, walking the near empty streets of the Lower East Side and Chinatown, and she hasn’t felt time move at all.

“I can’t believe we walked all the way here,” Marshall points.

Camila’s eyes track his finger, and she smiles. “Brooklyn Bridge. It sounds cliché, but I love this bridge. I remember when I was a kid, whenever we’d cross it, my father would point and say, ‘This iconic landmark is testament to what can be achieved when a woman’s in charge.’”

“Your father sounds incredibly progressive. Mine was more a facts kind of guy. When we’d drive over it, he’d say, ‘This bridge was opened in May of 1883.’”

“That would’ve helped me on my assignment about bridges in the second grade. We were told to write about our favorite bridge here in New York. My classmates drew crude pictures of a bridge and wrote down dates and facts. Thanks to my parents, I wrote an essay on Emily Roebling and her impact on women and education.”

“How’d you do?”

Camila shrugs. “No better than the kid next to me who couldn’t write in complete sentences.”

“It sounds like you got more out of it than the rest of the kids who probably don’t remember who Emily Roebling is.”

“True. I confess I’m impressed you do.”

“Impressed? Hell I’m relieved. I honestly didn’t think we’d be covering late 19
th
century history tonight. Or should I say this morning?” Marshall grins that friendly smile, which Camila has discovered is one of his most endearing traits.
That and perhaps his arms, or his broad shoulders, which accentuate his back
. . . . She shakes her head to rid herself of thoughts that are beginning to take hold.

“Is that a fifth date conversation topic?” Camila asks wryly. They haven’t done anything but drink, eat and walk, and it’s the most fun she’s had in months.

“Totally fifth date. I’d never nerd out before that.” Marshall’s smile gets bigger as it starts to chip away at Camila’s steel exterior. She could try hard not to like his dry sense of humor or the fact that he knew who Emily Roebling is, but she decided it’s not worth the effort.

“You calling me a nerd?” She shoves him playfully.

“If the shoe fits,” he replies, holding onto her arm to avoid falling back. His warm touch on her cool skin sends shivers down her body.

Perhaps Shoshana’s right
. All she’s needed to do is find someone worth her time.
Time
.
Shit
. She has so little of it left.
Since when did my choices begin to feel like a prison sentence
? Of course she knows the answer to her own question.
Since now
.

“What’s wrong?” Marshall asks, noticing the subtle shift in her mood.

Camila looks out toward the Bridge. “Nothing, it’s just.” She groans, not wanting to admit how badly she wishes she could have more time before school begins. “I’m not ready for this date to end.” Her heart pounds against her chest. She’s never been this honest with a guy she’s just met. She never had to be. Most guys approached her, and she’d willingly fall into whatever was convenient. This time, however, if she’s going to make the most of the time she has left, she has to make the first move.

“Who says it has to?”

She looks down at his hand, still on her arm. “No one.” Her heart flutters as she utters those words. There’s something empowering about being the one to say,
I want to be with you
. Granted she didn’t say it explicitly, but Camila knows he gets it, gets her circular way of talking.
Gets her
.

Marshall takes his hand away quickly and clears his throat. “You know I’ve never done something, and I’d like you to be the first to do it with me.”

Camila looks at him questioningly. “You realize how creepy that sounds.”

“I didn’t until it was out of my mouth,” he laughs. “Sorry.”

“What is it?”

“Catch the sunrise from the Bridge.”

Camila starts to speak, but he puts his fingers to her lips. “Now don’t get all technical about the sun and the radius and latitudes. I’ve ridden in a car across the Bridge, but I’ve never walked it. And I want to experience the dawn with you. Simple as that.”

“That it?” Camila mutters, her lips smashed against his finger.

Marshall nods. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

Of the 22.8 square miles of the Island of Manhattan, Camila would swear that they covered at least a third of them by late morning. She knows she’ll regret not resting her feet before her ten o’clock shift, but that’s the thing about finding connection. You’re willing to give up a lot just to keep it going. And as they wandered through the waking streets of the Financial District, through TriBeCa, the West Village and into SoHo for their second breakfast of the day, she promised herself it was worth the discomfort in her feet.

“Why did you agree to come to the bar so late?” She asks, picking at her salt and pepper bagel.

Marshall sips his cappuccino before answering. Camila covers her smile at the adorable way his lips curl around the rim when he drinks.

“I guess you could say I did it for the experience,” he answers. “I never had a date that started so early in the morning, or late at night. Although you, I mean your cousin, wouldn’t agree to see me whenever I suggested it, so I figured if it was the only way to get a date with you, I should at least try.”

“I’m glad you did,” Camila says.

“In any case, this is the most active date I’ve been on. I think I burned off the drinks and the two empanadas in seven hours.” Marshall shows her his watch. She can’t help but notice it’s an IWC. Her uncle wears the same model.

A yawn escapes Camila before she can stifle it. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It’s selfish of me to keep you out. You working tonight?”

Camila nods. “I start at ten.”

Marshall flags down the server for the check. “Will it bother you if I get the check this time?” He asks.

A smile spreads over Camila’s face. “Great of you to ask. And no, it won’t.”

Chapter 7

“Thanks for breakfast,” Camila says, leading him up to the stoop.

“I guess we’re even now. No one owes the other anything.” He smiles.

“I guess not,” Camila replies distractedly, searching for her keys. She can feel him distance himself from her, leaving one foot on the step.

She looks up and notices the car waiting. “Were you just walking me to the door? You don’t need to worry about my safety.” Her defenses begin to go up. Did she read him wrong?

“I know you can take care of yourself. I just wanted to spend a little more time with you.”

So maybe not
. Her body warms to that confession. At least she won’t regret blowing off some Law Review work. She takes the keys out of her bag.

“So,” Marshall rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks for the first breakfast and watching the sunrise with me.”

His nervousness makes Camila want to laugh. As much as she’s inexperienced at dating, he’s clearly inexperienced at casual encounters.

Camila positions the key outside the keyhole but doesn’t move. “You coming upstairs?” She asks. Six days until school, six days until her law student life swallows her up like a giant black hole.
Fuck
. Today may be the last bit of time she has for sex for a while. Anxiety quickly replaces her excitement. What she won’t acknowledge is that it isn’t for the lack of time that she feels anxious as much as it is his hesitation. Normally a potential lover wouldn’t keep so much space, but Marshall hasn’t moved from his place on the step.
What is he waiting for
?

“I just wanted to make sure you got inside safely,” he mumbles.

Camila’s eyes run over him. “This neighborhood isn’t as rough as it looks.”

Marshall looks back at the car and then at her. “You want to keep hanging out?”

Camila lifts a shoulder. “Or other things.” The question is fairly straightforward.

His hesitation makes Camila wonder if she’d misinterpreted his interest. “No worries if you’re not up for it,” she says unfazed, giving him an out.

“Yeah, you know, I just realized . . . ,” he pauses, searching for a response, anything. “I’ve got a
thing
later.”

Camila almost laughs. She’s never been turned down for sex. Ever. “Okay. See you around.” She turns the key and walks past the discarded take-out menus and mail littered across the foyer. When the second door closes behind her, she looks over her shoulder and spots Marshall getting into the car.
Must’ve read him all wrong
, she thinks to herself.

Chapter 8

“I knew you were going to mess it up,” Shoshana complains into the phone.

“How did
I
mess it up? He’s the one who turned me down when I invited him up.”

“Maybe it’s the way you asked him. How am I supposed to know, I wasn’t there.”

“I didn’t say anything that hasn’t worked before. I mean, really, how many ways do you say, ‘Hey let’s go back to my place and hook-up?’” Camila asks, throwing a loose silk tank over a fitted black one. She moves the phone to the other hand as she puts her arms through the holes.

“Maybe he wants more than that? Or maybe he drank too much and wasn’t confident he could perform?”

“You’re analyzing this way too much. Let it go, I already have,” Camila tells her. Although the fact that he turned her down is nagging at a small part of her.

“I can’t just let it go. I spent over a week on Tinder and OkCupid vetting men for you. You’re not an easy match, believe me. There’s no way you were going to sleep with a guy who couldn’t name the capital of Jordan. That narrows the field considerably. Marshall was the last-man standing, and you had to go and fuck it up.” Shoshana sighs. “What am I going to do with you, C.C.?”

Camila laughs into the phone. “Give up now and save yourself the heartache. I’m fine. Although, I have to ask, why did you use my nickname?”

“Less identifying that way. Besides, it makes you sound way more laid back than using your full name.”

“You really think I’m that uptight?” Camila pulls her fitted black jeans up and buttons them.

“The Camila I know is far from uptight. You’re like your mom. You come off like you mean business, but it’s just something you project out into the world so people take you seriously.”

“I don’t have time to be analyzed tonight, Shosh. I’m late enough to work as it is.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Just promise me no more set-ups. Marshall was cool, but I don’t have time for any distractions, ‘kay?”

“Says you.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Camila promises before tossing her phone onto her bed.

“We’re slammed tonight,” Jared says, reaching behind Camila for a bottle of Herradura tequila. “Table 8 wants tons of tequila tonight.”

Camila glances up at the table. Three couples, all around her age, are laughing and getting completely wasted. “Good for them. I wouldn’t want that hangover tomorrow,” she replies, pouring a generous amount of vodka into a shaker for a dirty martini.

“You want to go out later? A friend is throwing an after-party down on Division.”

Camila shakes her head as she stems three large green olives. “Can’t. Tomorrow is my only day off, and I don’t want to spend it recovering.” She waves at Gemma who comes by to pick up the waiting cocktails.

“How was your final project?” Camila asks.

“It’s done,” Gemma replies. “I have no idea what my prof thinks, but at least I don’t have to think about it anymore.” She looks over at Jared. It’s no secret that she has a crush on him, even though she knows he’d only be into her if she were a he. But everyone who works at L, except maybe Camila and Todd, has a crush on Jared. It’s difficult not to with his slender body and chiseled face that seems to get him laid on a regular basis. It also helps that he has the bluest eyes Camila’s ever seen.

“Did I hear you mention a party later?”

“Yeah, you wanna come?” Jared smiles. “Plenty of hot straight men for you.”

“Then I’m in.”

As soon as Gemma walks away, Camila warns, “Be easy on her.”

Jared winks. “Of course. Scott, one of my latest, is bringing his brother who’s as hot and straight as a flat iron. Speaking of which, whatever you’re doing with your hair, I like it.”

Camila’s touches the straightened ends of her hair. Something about her date with Marshall made her more self-aware when she was getting ready for work. If she had to analyze it, feeling attracted to him made her feel more attractive. Even if he turned her down, it was still fun to feel something, anything other than the numbness she’d been feeling since Eliseo left. Throughout the day, whenever she’d imagine Marshall’s smile or the way he’d run his fingers across his lips when he was thinking, she could feel that attraction grow. Something rooted inside of her that made her experience her beauty again.

Camila realized that Eliseo’s leaving didn’t take anything away from her. Rather, she simply lost that lens through which he saw her. It was that lens that made her feel powerful and beautiful and all the other qualities he found attractive in her. But the fact that she feels it again makes her understand it wasn’t lost when he disappeared from her life. It had merely become buried by her pain.

The crowd at the bar doesn’t thin until three. By then, Jared is already texting Scott and making plans for his escape. Camila is counting the minutes until she can fall into her bed where she intends to sleep until noon.

“Table 4 wants a Metropolitan,” Gemma announces to them. “What is that anyway? I’ve never heard of it.”

Jared doesn’t look up from his phone. “Some turn-of-the-century cocktail. It’s like a Manhattan but with brandy instead of whisky.”

“I’ve got this,” Camila offers, already reaching for the sweet vermouth. The smell makes her crave her own.
After work
, she promises herself.

“By the way, Camila, it’s the same guy from last night. You know, Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy.” She raises her eyebrows at Camila, who can’t hide her surprise.

Jared waves a hand in front of Camila. “You better close that mouth or someone is going to trip over that tongue of yours woman.”

So maybe this morning was a fluke
.

Gemma hands Camila a piece of paper after serving Marshall his drink. “This is for you.”

She looks toward Table 6 and spots Marshall drinking his Metropolitan, his lips curling around the rim. The idea of his lips curled around hers ignites something inside of her.

“Did you guys talk last night or something?” The young woman probes.

Camila shrugs casually and turns away to read the note. It says, “This entitles you to breakfast with one, Marshall James, at the establishment of your choosing. Offer expires 5 a.m. today.”

“Oh my god, are you blushing, Camila?” Jared elbows her.

“Shhh, keep it down,” she warns. “And no, I don’t blush.” Although it wouldn’t surprise her if she were. Camila’s such a sexual being that having come so close to being with Marshall has unlocked her desire. And rather than trickling out, it’s all pouring out at once and subsuming her want with need.

Gemma giggles. “Here I thought you were celibate or something.”

Camila shoots her a look. “Not celibate, just selective,” she quips, using Shoshana’s words.

Jared peers beyond a pillar and spies Marshall’s profile. “If you don’t go for him, I will. I’ve never met a straight guy who doesn’t mind getting his dick sucked.” He winks. “Look at Mr. Gucci with that body, those cheekbones. I swear, I didn’t think you could find anyone hotter than that Chef, but this piece of heavenly dark chocolate has him beat.”

The thundering in Camila’s chest returns when she hears Jared describe Marshall’s most obvious attributes. But it’s more than that that makes him attractive to her. His wit, intelligence and sensibilities are all qualities of his that don’t appear on the surface.

“Tell him that his drinks are on me tonight,” she says to Gemma.

Gemma grins. “You got it.”

“Ah, that explains the hair,” Jared says to Camila. “Someone’s feeling pretty.”

Camila smiles in spite of herself. “Maybe I am.”

Jared pours two shots of vodka and offers one to Camila who refuses. She’d rather not be drunk for her breakfast date. He downs both and says, “Here’s to getting lucky.”