Page 39 of Unexpected You
“You’re talking to someone,” she sang as she sipped her drink and smirked at me. “You forget that I know you, El. I know your face and I know when you’re distracted. And I know when you’re happy. Whatever you’re looking at, whoever you’re talking to, is making you happy. I’m not trying to give you a hard time about it. I just want to know what’s going on in your life.”
Being friends with someone nearly your whole life was wonderful at times, and it was not so wonderful at times. Camille knew the exact words to use to get me to confide in her. Like she had a key to unlocking me.
“I can’t tell you,” I said. I absolutely could not tell her that I was talking with my much younger assistant with a goofy grin on my face that had no business being there.
“Eloise Irene Roth. Are you online dating?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said immediately, grabbing onto the suggestion like a life raft. “Yes, I’m online dating. Sort of. I’m trying it out.”
Camille let out an excited squeal and clapped her hands together. “I knew making you a profile on that famous people site was going to pay off,” she said. I wanted to roll my eyes. She’d forced me to make it, with her input, two years ago on my birthday and had been pestering me about it off and on ever since. I’d gone on a few times and had looked at the potential guys, but it seemed like such an artificial way to meet someone. I didn’t want to get to know someone that way. I guess it worked for some people, but it wasn’t for me.
But now, it was the perfect excuse.
“Well, whoever he is, I can’t wait to meet him.” She tapped her glass against mine and then drained it just as our server came over and asked if we wanted refills.
“We just started talking,” I said, feeling a little ball of shame settle into my stomach for lying to my best friend. “I don’t even know what it is at this point.”
Nothing. It was nothing, because it had to be nothing. And it wasn’t even flirting. It was just talking. And I couldn’t help it that Cadence was funny. Her making me laugh had nothing to do with flirting. I was straight.
“Well, I am going to need allll the details once you figure it out.” Camille reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “This is going to be good for you. Trust me.”
* * *
“You know what I hate?” Cadence said when she walked in the next day with coffee and our usual breakfast sandwiches. Not even a hello.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, pulling out plates.
“Right, good morning, yeah,” she said, handing me my coffee. “I hate it when someone acts like they have never ordered coffee at a café before. They stand in line for like, ten minutes and then when the barista asks what they want, they act like they’re brand new and don’t know what the procedure is. It’s ridiculous, and it’s just plain rude to everyone else standing in line behind them while they figure out what the fuck they want, you know?”
The words flew out of her and I saw that her hair was extra messy today, pulled back into a bun with wisps going everywhere.
“Wow,” I said when she stopped to take a breath. “Tell me how you really feel.”
Her eyes flew wide, as if she realized belatedly how many words she’d just throw at me. I couldn’t fight back a laugh.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks and face and ears and upper chest blooming red with embarrassment.
“You don’t have to apologize, Cadence. You can talk to me. I don’t mind.” It was true. Anyone else saying all of that would have made me beg for mercy and silence, but Cadence doing it was different. I didn’t know why.
“And it is annoying, I agree,” I said as I unwrapped my sandwich. She sat down with me and there were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, and I could feel her holding back across the table.
“You didn’t bring me anything haunted, did you?” I asked, looping back to our previous conversation from Saturday.
She looked up and her face broke into a smile. “No. Thought about it. I will next time. Sneak it into your house and hide it somewhere and you’ll have to find it.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared. “You wouldn’t dare.”
There was that rapport we’d created this weekend. I’d wondered if it would translate to seeing each other in person, or if it was just a weekend messaging thing.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said with a smirk and something warm started to expand in my chest, like a balloon inflating.
“I can still fire you, you know.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I’ve made myself invaluable to you now. Who would bring you your sandwiches every day and make sure that everything you read is in the right font and correct size?”
I rolled my eyes. “I could find someone else to do that for me.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Could you now? Then why were you so desperate that you hired me?”