“Don’t,” she fires back instantly. “Don’t tell me to relax. Not when I’ve been panicking all afternoon.”
“Brooke, I’m sorry, I didn’t think?—”
“Save it.”
“Hey,” Camila cuts in, voice steady, “I’m sorry, I asked her to lunch because I’m waiting for my meeting with Isabella, and I was already in the area?—”
“I’m not fucking speaking to you,” Brooke snaps at Camila.
Camila’s mouth snaps shut, her jaw tightening.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Valeria says gently. “If you’re going to be mad at anyone, let it be me.”
Brooke rolls her eyes.
Camila inhales sharply, like she’s about to argue, but her eyes drift to Valeria, and something softens. She nods once, more to herself than to either of them.
“Okay,” she says quietly, standing and brushing her hands on her jeans. “You two clearly need to talk. We can ... figure this out later.”
“Camila,” Valeria says, reaching out instinctively. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you who should be sorry,” Camila says sternly.
Brooke scoffs.
Camila gives Valeria a small, reassuring smile, though she can easily see the discomfort written all over her. Valeria’s gaze drops, unable to keep her eyes on Camila, feeling more embarrassed than she knows how to handle, and it’s like Camila knows it.
“It’s fine. Really. Text me later, okay?”
Valeria nods.
“Unbelievable,” Brooke says under her breath, and Camila pointedly ignores her and steps around the table. She hesitates—long enough to meet Valeria’s eyes—thenheads toward her car, leaving her standing in the middle of the sitting area with Brooke’s anger radiating off her.
Before Camila is out of sight, Brooke lets out a harsh breath—one she’s clearly been holding in.
“I cannot believe this,” she says, voice cracking right down the middle.
“I can’t believeyou,” Valeria says quickly, but Brooke talks right over her.
“Oh, that’s rich.” Brooke’s voice jumps, louder than before. Heads turn, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were leaving your office?”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to leave work.”
“Oh, sure, make me sound like the bad guy.”
“Brooke, you’re being ridiculous?—”
“Am I?” She laughs—harsh, humorless. “Because I don’t think you’d like this if roles were reversed.”
“You know that’s not true.” Valeria crosses her arms, challenging Brooke to tell her she’s lying.
Brooke freezes for a moment as the words settle, because she knows there’s no world where that would be true. Valeria can see her mind working to conjure a reason to keep the argument going.
“You didn’t tell me, because you’re cheating.”
The word slaps the air between them cold, and Valeria’s stomach drops.
“That’s a reach, Brooke. One you can’t possibly believe.”
