Read Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) Online
Authors: Vivian Winslow
“Hungry?” Marshall asks, trailing kisses up the side of Camila’s thigh and over her hip. He doesn’t stop until he reaches her neck.
“I could eat.” Camila rolls onto her back. She wouldn’t say she’s hungry. Famished would be a better word. After he had her up against the wall, he brought her into his room where they both came a few more times. She lay across his bed, staring out onto the rooftops of the West Village. It took her a while to figure out what set his place apart from hers aside the obvious. It was silence. The ambient noise came from them, not the constant sirens, buses, shouting and voices from the street. For the briefest of moments, Camila felt a sense of calm.
He plants a kiss on her chest. “The caterers left some food in the fridge. I’ll be right back.”
Minutes later he’s back with a tray loaded with hake in coconut curry and mushrooms, lamb meatballs, roasted sweet potatoes and a spinach and strawberry salad. He pours two glasses of Pellegrino and sets them down on the nightstand. “This brings back good memories,” he says, biting into the strawberry.
Camila smiles. “I felt a bit cheated that you didn’t feed me more that night.”
Marshall spears another strawberry. “Here you go then. I’m sorry about that. I was so caught up in that moment. I guess I was more worried about eating you than you eating the strawberries.” He feeds her another before moving onto the meatballs. “How did tonight go?”
“You mean the during or after?”
Marshall laughs. “I wasn’t looking for an assessment of my performance. I meant the party. You think the students got anything out of it?”
Camila shrugs as she chews on the potatoes. “I would think so. I mean, you had a nice group of people who were all passionate about their work.”
“But . . . .”
“But nothing. I’m not a 2L. I don’t have much time to consider my options at this point. So I’m down to S & M, which would effectively mean I work for your father . . . .”
Marshall runs his hand along her leg. “It is among the top three firms in the country for a reason. Says a lot getting an offer from them.”
“You’re backpedaling a bit. You’re not an advocate for working at a firm.”
“No, but I don’t want to seem unsupportive. Firm culture is tough. It puts you on this endless treadmill, even if you make partner. And for someone as driven and ambitious as you are, I don’t know if you’ll find it satisfying. Often the more ambitious ones are the unhappiest because they become stifled in that culture.”
“You don’t sound unsupportive at all,” Camila nudges him.
“I’m cautious.”
“I’ve been cautious most of my life, and I’m not sure if it’s paid off. I never realized how risk averse I was until recently.”
“Most lawyers are. The risk takers are usually the ones who land themselves in finance.”
They eat in the silence that surrounds them. Camila bathes herself in the absence of noise. It’s amazing to her just how clear her own thoughts have become.
Marshall sets down his plate and moves the tray. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” She asks, setting her plate on the nightstand next to her.
Marshall moves up to the head of the bed and props himself against several pillows. “Earlier, you said you had to figure out what you wanted. What did you mean?”
Camila wraps a sheet around herself and hugs her knees. “I have another offer on the table, and I’m not sure if I’m going to take it, or if I should even consider it.”
“Oh yeah? Which firm?”
“Cohen Real Estate.” Camila rests her forehead on her knees. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about it. Since her uncle proposed it, it’s all she thought about. Not the job itself, which she has yet to consider, but rather how much the choice will impact her entire life. She won’t just be Camila Cohen who grew up on Jefferson Avenue. She’ll be Camila Cohen, future CEO of Cohen Real Estate. The two ideas seem so entirely incongruous to her she doesn’t know what to do.
Marshall whistles. “And you didn’t see that coming?”
Camila shakes her head. “Not in the slightest.”
“Does it have any appeal?”
She doesn’t answer. She has avoided answering that question herself because she’s afraid of what she’ll hear.
Marshall tugs on her arm. “Look at me, C.C. Do you like the idea of working in real estate?”
“Yes,” she speaks into the sheet. She can feel her heart drop out of her chest when she says this. It kills her to say it out loud.
“Why can’t you look at me?”
Camila raises her head. “Because it hurts to admit it.”
“Why? It’s a fantastic opportunity. One that would put you in a place of incredible influence. You would have the ability to shape this City.”
“Because it would mean betraying my father.” A single tear runs down Camila’s face. The guilt she’s felt since that Sunday in her parents’ home increases each and every time she thinks about working for her family’s company. Every thought is followed by an enormous weight over her chest.
That’s true Jewish guilt
, she thinks to herself.
Marshall moves toward the center of the bed and wraps himself around her. “You can’t carry that guilt with you,” he says. “I doubt your father would feel it’s a betrayal if he knew how interested you are in it.”
“You didn’t see the look on his face when I told him. He was so hurt. I swear a part of him died that day.” Camila buries her face in her hands.
“His issues aren’t yours to bear,” Marshall says quietly.
“They always have been though. That’s the irony. I’ve come to realize that most of my life was shaped by his principles which were a reaction to those of his family, particularly his father. It was as if he was trying to make up for his sins through me.”
“Parents do that. They always want better for their own children. Your parents sound smarter and wiser than most. Maybe you just need to find a way to marry the different ideals and see where you end up.”
“I still haven’t spoken to my dad.” Shoshana continues texting as Camila approaches the table.
“Three weeks is a long time. You can’t do that to him.”
Her cousin shrugs. “I can, and I will. He had no right to ambush you like that. It should’ve been a family decision, where you could have your parents to support you. I mean, this is a huge deal.” She shakes her head. “It showed me how much more important this company is to him than I thought.”
“I can understand his fears over losing it.” Camila can’t help but defend her uncle a little since no one else will.
“But that’s the thing, C.C., it’s not his to lose. By the time he retires, he will have made the most of his time with the company, which is significant. What happens after shouldn’t be your problem, or mine for that matter, unless we choose to be a part of it.”
“In some ways it would be crazy to turn it down.”
“And equally crazy to accept it. It comes down to which crazy you choose. But in the end, it’s our choice, not his.”
Camila looks behind her cousin to read the menu written on a small blackboard. “Why didn’t you mention this to me before? I get why you’d wait, but grandfather’s will seems like a big topic.”
“It was this big ticking time bomb that I wanted to ignore for as long as possible. It’s no secret how your dad feels about the business so I figured that it would just end with Dad’s retirement. Then, when he floated this idea about you and me partnering up . . . , I admit I got excited.”
“Would be an interesting challenge to tackle together,” Camila concedes.
“Right?” Shoshana’s voice betrays her enthusiasm. “It just goes against my philosophy about influencing another person’s choices. You seemed pretty decided on law, and I respect that. How pissed is your dad by the way?”
Camila shrugs. “I haven’t seen him since that Sunday. I don’t know, I feel bad about drudging up so much bad blood.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. If it’s one thing my dad’s right about it’s that this whole thing was more about your dad’s issues with his dad. It really has nothing to do with you.”
“But somehow it’s part of my history.” Camila rubs her temples. She’s grateful for the interruption when the waiter approaches to take their order.
“I can’t keep thinking about this,” she says when the waiter walks away.
“Then don’t. Put it on the backburner and go to S & M for a year or two and then see how you feel,” Shoshana advises.
Camila purses her lips and sighs. “I don’t know, Shosh. Sixteen-hour days and working weekends are starting to seem a lot less appealing. I’ve been asking myself why I had been so quick to narrow my options after college by going straight to law school.”
Shoshana stares at her cousin. Even when the waiter sets down her usual spicy Bloody Mary in front of her, she doesn’t move.
“What?” Camila leans forward. “Do I have something on my face?” She wipes a napkin around her mouth.
Shoshana shakes her head. “I just can’t believe what came out of your mouth. I was trying to figure out if I was in the middle of a dream.”
“Oh come off it. It’s not a shocking thing to say.”
Shoshana sucks on her cocktail and narrows her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself? Since the second grade all you talked about was Emily Roebling and becoming a lawyer.”
“You were four. You can’t possibly remember that.”
“Are you kidding? You were my idol. I remember everything. And not once did you ever waver about law school. Yours was the most direct path of anyone I know.”
“Ha. Well, maybe if it weren’t I wouldn’t be deciding between enslaving myself to a firm or tying myself to the family business.”
“Neither of which are lifetime commitments, like marriage or children. There’s room for change. What did Carl Jung say? I think it’s like life before forty is just research or something. A law degree doesn’t mean you have to become a lawyer.”
”That’s what Marshall said the other day . . . .” Camila immediately stops. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out. Other than spending the night at his apartment, she hasn’t told Shoshana about how much time she’s spent with him since then. Not that it’s been all that much given her limited available time.
“I knew it. You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Not really. You know the big stuff, like my staying the night.”
Shoshana folds her arms in front of her. “You just slipped his name into the conversation like it was no big deal, so I know you’re spending more time with him than that. Is he sleeping over at your place?”
Camila nods.
“More than two nights a week?”
She nods again.
“More than three?”
Her cousin shakes her head.
“So pretty much when you’re not working. You realize that that qualifies as some sort of relationship don’t you?”
“Why label it? We’re spending time together. That’s enough.”
“Ha. As if. You’re totally into him. You never let a guy sleep over.”
“That’s because it wouldn’t look right if I stayed over at his place.”
“Oh please. That’s just an excuse. You, my dear, are in a real, grown-up kind of relationship whether you want to admit it or not.”
Camila pours tea into her cup. She’d all but forgotten about it, so by the time she takes a sip, it’s lukewarm. “I don’t even know what a grown-up relationship is like.”
“You like his company and look forward to seeing him when you’re not with him?”
Camila nods.
“Do you talk about stuff other than work and school?”
She nods again.
“You have a lot of sex but also make time to meet other needs like showering and eating?”
Camila laughs. “That’s enough, Shosh.”
“Then I’d say you’re in the early stages of a relationship.”
“I prefer to say that we’re hanging out.”
“Ugh, don’t start sounding like a ridiculous frat boy. You’re an adult, and adults have relationships built around real connections. Don’t you ever listen to my podcasts?” Shoshana sighs. “I talked about this very thing last week. Relationships don’t just happen when you get to a certain age. They’re borne from how you learn to relate to yourself. The deeper you connect to yourself, the better you connect to another human.”
“What does that have to do with me and Marshall?”
“You two have obviously graduated from the get-to-know-you phase and are moving into what I call the world-building phase. That’s where you take the common ground you’ve established and create a new world based on how you two connect.”
“And how are the podcasts going anyway? Will you send them to me so I can listen to them while I’m on the train?”
“You’re deflecting. Why won’t you talk about Marshall? I’m the one who’s supposed to know everything.”
“You do know everything. There isn’t much to tell. We’re spending time together. That’s it.”
“And what about Eliseo?”
“Who’s that?” Camila asks, a sly smile spreading over her face.
Shoshana laughs as she stirs a spoonful of brown sugar into her oatmeal. “Fair enough. Does this mean I can finally meet this man in person?”
Camila shakes her head. “Nothing personal, but I’m not ready to take it public and start mixing company. Things are so up in the air with me that I don’t want to give him the impression that this is a full-blown . . . .” She stops speaking.
“You can’t even say the word relationship can you?”
Camila raises her right shoulder a bit.
Shoshana points her spoon at her cousin. “You’re not hanging out or sleeping with anyone else are you?”
Camila gives her a look.
“Then it’s a relationship, C.C. Get over it already. You like Marshall, and Marshall likes you. That’s the reality. Now accept it and let me meet him.”