“Don’t you worry about it, CEO mine.”
“Was it the samebribeyou used on the IT girl to lock me out of my email?”
“I’ve got this place dialed,” Camila says, examining her nails.
“Where have you been?” I ask. “I’ve been back for two days and haven’t seen you in the office.”
She shakes her head and flings her hand at the air. “David and I took a trip. Don’t change the subject.”
“From your dubious professional behavior?”
She bends down and leans her elbows on the table so we’re eye to eye. “From your good and properfucking.”
“Stop saying that!” I whisper-shriek, looking at the glass door.
“Oh, relax, half the office picked up on your good mood over the past two days. They told me to come in here and get to the bottom of it.”
“Am I usually in a bad mood?” I ask.
“Notbad.” Camila shrugs. “Busy, distracted, stiff.”
I frown. “I’ll work on that.”
“How ’bout you let Will Grant keep working on that?”
I groan, sinking dramatically from my chair all the way underneath my desk. Camila drops down and crawls beside me, giggling.
I grab her hands in mine. “I have the biggest crush on him.”
She squeals softly. “Iknewit, J. From the moment you told me he got us a new reservation at Andalo, Iknewyou two were going to become something. But I didn’t want to jinx it because of how long it’s been since Clay, and I didn’t want to freak you out, or say the wrong thing, and frankly, I was worried you were going to talk yourself out of giving him a chance if I spoke it into existence—”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, dropping her hands. “You probably would have been right about that. I’ve been wrestling with it. The idea of… a boyfriend.”
A boyfriend!she mouths.
I laugh, thinking back to the last time we acted this way because of a man. It was the day after the first Garlic Fest we’d ever attended. Camila had spent the night with David for the very first time. She came home to our house, the biggest, dorkiest grin on her face, and we sat down on the couch and shared a bottle of champagne and orange juice while she told me every little detail—all the reasons she liked him, all the things David had said about why he liked her.
Camila Sanchez has a rocky relationship history. In college, she let boys treat her like shit. Some would cheat, some would ghost, some would gaslight her, and she’d find reasons to forgive them all. Twenty was when we finally got to the good part. She was happily single, and for some reason, that made me able to look at men again with a semblance of attraction. Clay came into the picture—a nice guy whom I will always wish the best for, despite our relationship failing to last. He came and went, and Camila stayed.
Her college boys came and went, and I stayed.
When she and David got engaged, I was crouched behind a shrub waiting to pop a gold confetti bomb.
After I chose to end my four-year celibacy, she’s under my office desk with me, giggling.
“Want to get some margaritas and talk?” she asks.
It’s four o’clock—sotechnicallynot too early to leave for the day—but still, I say, “I feel like I haven’t put in enough face time at the office lately.”
“And you know what? Everybody managed,” she replies. “We’ve done a good job with this place, Josie.” There’s something wistful to her tone that sets my heart on edge.
If she wants to talk, I can’t deny her.
“Wehavedone a good job,” I say, smiling. “Let’s drink.”
At Suerte, I tell Camila about the trip start to finish as we drink tequila and munch on chips and guacamole. She laughs her ass off when I describe the way I politely asked Santiago to pull over so I could hurl on the side of a Peruvian highway. Camila swoons when I tell her about Will begging to justholdme that night. She laughsagainwhen I describe his snoring, which I’ve already grown so accustomed to after three nights in Bangalore that it’s hardly noticeable anymore when I’m drowsy.
“And Zoe?” Camila asks. “Have you talked to her yet?”
