“I didn’t think I looked that bad.” I frown.
“Sheesh. That makes it look worse. Put a smile on it and that’ll cover it a bit better.” She laughs and moves to stand again.
“I take it your sleep was riddled with dreams of a certain brunette?” Her grin turns mischievous.
I sigh, letting my body sink further into the chair.
“Not very many dreams per se… just… thoughts. Lots of them.” I look out the window to where the sun is making its appearance, the sky covered in pastels fit for a fairground cotton candy stand.
“I figured as much. She looked like she would be a good one.”
“Oh yeah? You can tell that within two minutes of meeting her?” I raise my eyebrow at Camila.
She shrugs. “I’m a good judge of character normally. It’s the little things that show who a person really is.”
I nod in agreement. “Youarea good judge of character. Normally.” I pause. “Except I can never understand how you love some of the characters you love on tv shows. They’re always annoying.” I stifle a laugh.
She gives me a chiding look, as if I’m supposed to know better.
“Well, that’s the thing. I like to look beneath the surface of what people say—or even how they act. Sometimes their reactions are just mirrors of what’s happening inside.”
I hadn’t quite thought of it like that. “So you see a redemption story for them is what you’re saying?”
“Redemption stories are my favorite.” She grins.
I think about this for a minute. The coffee steam rises off my cup, drifting into the air while I contemplate.
Redemption stories are my favorite, too. The ones in the Bible, the ones I keep reading over and over—the messy, broken parts of us offered to God, and Him turning them into something beautiful.
That thought ignites a fresh fire in me.
I guess I could try a little harder with Lizzie this morning. See if maybe…
“Hey, Camila?” I ask, voice higher as I know she’s gone back to the kitchen.
“Yeah, boss?” I hear back.
I get up from my chair and walk over to her again, stepping light on the wooden floor. I know she’s about to start cooking breakfast so I don’t want her to move between rooms constantly.
“I was thinking… maybe you could send a breakfast basket to Lizzie for me?” I ask hesitantly.
I wonder if Camila thinks this is a good idea. Lizzie is leaving. I left her my card already… but maybe I should make my intentionsreallyspeak loud. Loud enough for her to know I want to see if we could be something more. That I want to see if we could have something that might turn out into something amazing.
Camila’s grin is wider than the Cheshire Cat’s grin as she puts a pan on the stove top.
“Absolutely. Anything you want me to include?” She says nonchalantly, but the hint of excitement is underneath.
I think about it. What did Lizzie mention last night that she loves? I feel like there was something?—
“Some English tea please?”
“Just like the queen. On it!” She grabs a notepad, on a mission already. “I’ll make yours first, since you’re up at stupido’clock, then pop across the street to get a few more items. Plenty of time before she’s awake.”
I lift my mug to sip, hiding a grin behind it. Liquid caffeine warms me immediately. “If I’m up at stupid o’clock, what time were you up?”
She whirls over at me, incredulous. “I’m up at ‘I’m-getting-paid-enough-for-this’ o’clock.”
I laugh. “Well, you got me there. Although I definitely don’t expect you to be here so early, you know that right?”
