I raise a brow. “That’s… huge. You okay?”
She laughs once, a brittle sound. “I will be. At almost thirty, I realize I shouldn’t need him. In fact, most of the time I don’t, but if the safety net is gone, then it’s truly all on me to survive. I’ve never had to do that before.”
I see the worry in her eyes; the same kind that lives in mine. “What can I do?”
“Funny you should ask,” she says with a smirk.
“Cami, no.” I shake my head, knowing that look all too well. “Whatever it is, the answer is probably no.”
“Hear me out, Vi. Just… hear me out.” Her eyes sparkling with a dangerous mix of charm and ambition she’s always possesses. “Remember Z?”
My stomach drops. “Cami, don’t.”
“I’m serious, Vi. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and it could be huge—for both of us. You know how much people enjoyed it back in college. It wasn’t just a party drug; it wastheparty drug. And now, with the right people and contacts, we could take it to a whole new level.”
I look around the coffee shop, suddenly keenly aware of how public this conversation is. “Cami, I have Ella. I can’t—”
“That’s exactly why you should think about this,” she interrupts me, her voice low but firm. “Ella. Langport. You said it yourself—it’s everything she deserves, but you just can’t afford it. This could change that. This could be everything for her.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the words stick in my throat.
Cami blue eyes sparkle like a challenge, “You think I don’t get it? You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’re barely scraping by, Vi.”
My jaw clenches. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” She tilts her head, looking at me a little too closely. “You’re going to tell me Ella’s Langport scholarship includes a flight down? Dorm essentials? Living expenses?”
My stomach twists. I look away. Arguing with Cami feels like trying to stop a moving train by standing politely on the tracks and hoping it respects your boundaries.
Cami smirks. “Five thousand for one night. Do the math.”
The room suddenly feels too small. I stare down at my coffee, hands trembling under the table.
I can’t. I shouldn’t.
Cami eyes me closely. “Just come see what I’ve set up. I’m not asking you to commit. I’m just asking you to look. If it’s not for you, fine. But at least come see what I’m offering.”
My chest tightens. I shouldn’t even allow myself to think this way, but Langport’s tuition hangs over me like a black cloud. “Fine. I’ll look. But that’s it.”
Her face lights up, and I instantly hate myself for agreeing.
Cami rattles on about her most recent event on the drive down to the docks, a charity gala for clean water, education, or some other noble cause, but I can’t focus. By the time we get to what appears to be a dilapidated paint factory, I’m on edge.
The building itself is huge, and its crumbling brick walls and shattered windows contribute to its spooky atmosphere. Ocean smells fill the air, and seagulls circle above my head. The sound of their caws bounces off the deserted warehouses.
“This is it,” Cami says, rushing to the door.
Inside the building, the contrast is insane. The massive open space is crowded with elaborate, over-the-top pieces like marble statues of Gods and Goddesses, giant arches decorated in golden detail, and huge fountains that could be in a European palace.
“What… what is all this?” I ask, running a hand along a cold marble column.
Cami grins. “Party supplies. Rentals, mostly. This is where I put everything before events.”
“Party supplies?” I ask, gazing at a massive crystal chandelier tipped on its side on the floor before us. “These are… extravagant.”
“I want the best for my clients,” she winks and shoos me towards the back of the building.
As we walk deeper into the warehouse, the space starts to change. All the beautiful, opulent things stop, industrial shelves begin to line the walls, and the faint smell of chemicals fills the air.
