Chapter Twenty-Seven. Déjà Vu
Chapter Twenty-Seven
DéJà VU
The first two and a half weeks of July were a blur.
Cam was warned those weeks would be the busiest of the season, with tourists tacking Independence Day onto the beginning or end of their stays in Elswick.
But even with the warnings, she wasn’t prepared for endless days of chaos, broken only by Beau’s closure every Monday.
And sure, she didn’t need to work every day, but a chunk of their roster was on their own vacations and, well …
After her panic attack, she was reminded how desperately she needed the funds.
It was a fruitful couple of weeks too, with big tips that helped claw further into her credit card debt and prepare for her upcoming loan payment.
Those busy shifts also allowed her imagination to wander, filling her head with stop-motion scenes waiting to be written.
The unexpected inspiration was a jolting momentum, pushing her to work on her manuscript.
She wrote on the beach, during breaks, before bed. Whenever she had the chance to listen to music and scribble away, she did. Even on her most exhausted days, she sat in bed and typed. One hundred words, five hundred words, or a thousand, she celebrated every achievement.
Danny did, too. He greeted her every morning with a toothy smile and a fresh pot of coffee, always curious how she’d done before falling asleep. She’d tell him her word count, or what chapter she’d reached.
What she didn’t tell him was how often she fell asleep thinking about him.
Because friends didn’t do that.
A friend wouldn’t be breathless, fawning over Danny and Reggie playing on the beach. A friend wouldn’t be speechless, salivating over his muscular arms as he threw out belligerent bargoers. A friend wouldn’t be restless, recalling his captivating kisses and soothing whispers.
“Friends don’t do that,” she repeated to herself, hoping to beat the reminder into her head like a mnemonic device before a big exam.
Earlier, she’d been entranced by the way he charmed a table of elderly women, flirting with the group until they positively glowed over afternoon drinks. It’d taken everything in her to focus on her tables and not join the ladies, watching his performance from the front row.
Because now more than ever, he influenced her movements.
She found herself lingering by his office to catch a glimpse of him at his desk, waking up when he’d go for runs to see him sweaty and shirtless, volunteering to make his favorite meals for their shared dinners to hear his groans of satisfaction …
It was a dangerous progression. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him.
Scratch that—she wasn’t allowed to be thinking about him.
Morgan’s voice flitted through her ears, freezing her by the bar. Let’s leave fucking friends in the past, the memory whispered. Cam had been furious about the insinuation back in May, but by mid-July, the words were wisdom, a source of truth she needed to hold on to.
He was off-limits. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—risk multiple friendships for a silly, lust-addled crush.
An infatuation.
An … obsession?
Maybe it was an obsession. Why else was her head on a swivel, checking every corner of the dining room for Danny? She hadn’t seen him in nearly a half hour, and she missed him.
How could she miss him?
“Is there a reason you’re just standing here?” Esme asked. She sat behind the bar, chewing gum and flipping through a magazine.
Cam blinked, processing the question. When had she gotten to the bar? Her last ten minutes were fuzzy. Because after she’d delivered food to a table, she circled the dining room, her only thought Danny.
When she didn’t respond, Esme blew a bubble. “You’re weird. But since you’re here, I had a question. Your ex-boyfriend, the one who’s getting married?”
“What about him?”
“Is he around Danny’s height, Black, Disney prince smile?”
“Uh…” Hearing Esme ask about Cory fried her already charred brain. “I guess that sounds like him.”
“Huh. Then you should know he’s outside with Danny and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
“What?” Cam glanced at her stained T-shirt and well-worn apron, tied haphazardly around her waist and overflowing with eco-friendly straws. “Cory and his fiancée are here?”
“That’s what I said.” Esme rolled her eyes. “I went outside to get something from my car, and I saw Danny leading them to the beach.”
Cam swallowed, her throat dry. This was not how she’d expected her day to go. She frantically untied her apron and said, “Thanks for the heads-up. Do I…?”
Esme didn’t take the hint. She stared at Cam, unimpressed. “Do you what?”
“Do I look okay?”
“Does it matter?”
“I think so! My ex is here with his fiancée who you just described as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. I’d like to not look awful.”
To Cam’s surprise, Esme motioned her behind the bar and began fussing with her hair. “You look fine,” Esme said, even if she maintained her usual disinterest. “Well, minus the ketchup stain on your T-shirt.”
“Can’t be helped.” Cam smoothed her shirt down, looking towards the deck and shoreline. “Thank you. Wish me luck.”
Ignoring Esme’s snarky reply, Cam took off for the deck, rushing down the stairs and towards the beach. She spotted Danny and Cory immediately, laughing as they caught up. Tabitha was nowhere in sight, and Cam was admittedly relieved to have a moment with the guys before meeting the fiancée.
When she reached the sand, both guys turned to her. She looked between them, smiling through clenched teeth.
“Cam. Hey. Look who stopped by.” Danny motioned to Cory. “I was giving him and Tabby a tour of where we’ll have the reception set up.”
Cory was exactly as she remembered. Warm brown skin, tall with an athletic build, and sporting the most infectious smile.
His tightly coiled curls were freshly trimmed, and unlike at their last meeting, he was clean shaven, reminiscent of the kindhearted teenager she’d fallen in love with years ago.
“Hi,” she choked out, her voice unnatural to her ears. “It’s nice to see you!”
Cory approached, arms outstretched. “Likewise. I haven’t seen you in almost a year.” Despite the nagging in her gut, she hugged him. It was comfortable, familiar, and when she pulled away, she relaxed.
It was genuinely nice to see him. They were friends.
Or she thought they were.
“How’ve you been?” Cory continued. “Danny says you’ve been here all summer”—his gaze dropped to her T-shirt—“working. What happened to DC?”
“Well…” She laughed off her nerves and glanced at Danny, hoping for some help. But he’d shifted away, watching the water with his hands in his pockets. Frowning, she focused on Cory. “It’s a long, boring story. I’d rather talk about you. Congrats on the engagement! Where’s your fiancée?”
“Tabby’s in the car on a client call. She’s preparing for a big shoot in Brooklyn next week. One of her models dropped out so she’s putting out a fire.”
“What type of work does she do?”
“She’s a photographer,” Cory replied, but Cam knew that, since she’d stalked her social accounts as soon as she knew her full name.
“Mainly clothing brands. She usually has an insane schedule, but she finally had some free days, so we both took off. Rented a car to visit her family and check on the church and”—he waved at Beau’s—“here.”
“That’s so great.” She knew she was smiling obnoxiously wide, but she wasn’t sure how else to react. “Really.”
His phone buzzed, and after checking the message, he said, “Well, that’s Tabby. She’s going to be occupied for a bit. Actually”— he looked at her, hopeful—“you have some time? I promised her an iced coffee and I could use a walk to stretch my legs.”
“Oh! Sure. I mean”—she turned to Danny, unsure if she wanted him to accept or shoot down the proposal—“as long as it’s cool with you?”
But the Danny of earlier, who’d been smiling when she came down those stairs, was gone. He stood unnaturally straight, his lips in a tight line. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. We’ll manage.”
Cory squeezed Danny’s shoulder, not recognizing the shift like she had. “Sorry about the delay, man. Can we resume this walkthrough when Tabby’s free?”
“Of course. I’ll just, uh … get back to work.”
When Cam crossed the sand, in step with Cory, she found herself turning back to Danny. He remained where they’d left him, watching their departure. Instead of evaluating the overwhelming sense of déjà vu or the knots in her stomach, she focused on following Cory to the road.
“I like the hair.” Cory nodded to her loose waves. In the humidity, they were becoming frizzier by the second. “It looks good on you.”
She ran her fingers through the strands, catching a few knots. “Oh. Thanks. I like yours, too.”
“Thanks. Fresh fade.” They continued in silence, until he asked, “You okay, C?”
C.
He always called her C. She hadn’t heard the nickname in a long time, and it didn’t fill her with butterflies like Milly did.
“Yeah. Of course.” What she left out was: Except you didn’t invite me to your wedding and Except I can’t stop thinking about Danny and I don’t want to be the reason our group breaks again. “It’s just been a busy July. Lots of tourists.”
“Danny didn’t tell me much,” Cory said, each word slow, clearly nosing around for answers without asking directly. “I knew you were staying with him, but I didn’t realize—”
“—I was waiting tables?” She shrugged. “I got fired from my job at the beginning of May.”
“Fired? Really? That doesn’t sound like you.”
She laughed because it was a ridiculous thing to say. The C he knew was much different than the Cam she was now. “How do you figure that?” she asked.
“Well … you’ve always done everything by the book.” He glanced at her, mimicking her shrug of moments before. “I just never saw you being fired when you were always an overachiever.”