Camila got stuck on the comment for a beat, but pushed past it while looking out over the traffic where a man in a suit escorted an older lady across the street. See—thereweregentleman out there. James Benton just wasn’t one of them. “I swear if I ever see that guy again, I’ll spit in his face.”
“That’s disgusting,” Gypsy said. “Andillegal.Andsomething I’d bewaymore likely to do than you.” She bit at her thumbnail before lifting her hand and inspecting it. Blue and green polish covered alternate nails, matching the two locks of colored hair in her otherwise platinum bob. “Plus, you’re too much of a professional to do anything like that.”
Camila couldn’t argue. “Well, I’dfeellike it,” she assured. The truth was, her grandparents had raised her better than that. She’d never say or do anything to jeopardize her reputation or the career she’d worked so hard for. It just sucked that a perfect stranger could come along and mess it up for her.
“Hey, Camila,” came a deep, distant voice. “How you doing this morning?” An Italian accent coated the greeting, telling Camila just who stood in front of her building. She tipped her head slightly to get a better look at him.
Chase Marino stood there, looking suave as ever in his gray Dockers, black button-up shirt, and that ever present gold chain peeking from the open fold. The real estate mogul—who did a whole lot of business in Camila’s neighborhood—often checked in with her one way or another. Hollering at her from the sidewalk seemed to be his method of choice.
“I’m doing well, thanks,” she replied with a wave.
He grinned, his bright smile countering the darkness of his hair and clothes. “Say, how about we check out that new theatre up the street. Maybe grab a bite to eat afterward?”
A familiar knot clanked against her chest at the thought of turning him down yet again. Sure, the guy’s persistence paid off in his business life, but here, where romance was concerned… he was wasting his time.
“Thanks for the offer,” she started to say, but then Gypsy piped up and finished.
“She’d love to.”
Camila felt her eyes widen as she registered what her friend had just done.
“Nice,” Chase said. “I’ll call you and set it up.” And then he was off, darting through a break in the traffic toward the café across the street.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Camila hissed.
“I can’t believe you’d turn down a date with him. Chase is a decent guy. Besides, haven’t you seen his billboards? He reached millionaire status. And he’s crazy about you.”
“The millionaire status isexactlywhat I don’t like about him. Who wants to start a relationship with things so…off balance?”
“Oh, so you’d like it better if you werebothpoor?”
Camila rolled her eyes. “I’m not poor. Okay, maybe I am. But—” A small buzz came from her phone where it rested beside her coffee mug. She glanced at the name on the screen as she snatched it up.
Please say she has another job offer for me.She chanted those words in her head as she brought the phone to her ear, recalling the dream job Cyree had offered shortly before she retracted it. The guest—who’d requested a personal chef for his stay at the Royal Palm Resort—had canceled his trip last minute, leaving Camila scrambling for the next catering job instead.
“Cyree?” she said as she picked up the call. “How are you?”
Gypsy shuffled to the open french doors with her empty mug. “Be right back,” she whispered.
“I’m good,” Cyree said through the line. “And I’ve got some great news. The guy who wanted a personal chef for his stay—the one who canceled—just called. He sent his brother to stay at the villa, since he still had the place reserved for the month, andheneeds a personal chef during his stay.”
Camila couldn’t contain the grin that crept onto her face. She recalled her first conversation with Cyree about the potential job. The details were impossible to pass up. “Same pay and everything?”
“Yep. Same pay, and you’ll be staying in the Tuscany Mansion for the month.”
Anticipation stirred within her as she pictured the posh resort Cyree ran in South Carolina. That mound of hope was growing once more.
“When would it start?”
“Today. And trust me, this guy has a lot of wealthy friends in your neck of the woods. It could be a great way to rebuild your clientele.”
Camila glanced over her shoulder to see Gypsy at the kitchen counter, pouring cream into her tea.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Cyree asked.
Anticipation stirred at her insides once more, bubbling like a cool, fizzy drink. Great payanda chance to gain future clientele…Why work for the rich and famous when she could just work for the rich instead?
“It’s a yes,” she blurted, realizing she hadn’t said it aloud. “Definitely. I’m in.”
