Chapter Thirty-Two. Fire Sign
Chapter Thirty-Two
FIRE SIGN
Pouring rain, sticky humidity, thick fog.
August arrived with depressing weather, a bad omen that left an already rattled Cam feeling even more anxious. Danny was unusually busy, the preparations for Cory and Tabitha’s wedding occupying his free time, and that meant Cam was alone with her thoughts.
With the million worries plaguing her.
Leaving Danny. Her unknown future.
And while it took nearly two weeks to hear anything about the job in Boston, news eventually came from Drew, who pulled up to Beau’s ready to help celebrate her birthday weekend.
“Camille!” he cried, rushing to her side. “You’re in!”
“I got the job?”
“You did! HR will call Monday. Sorry about the delay. The summer’s rough. Everyone you need is out of the office.”
For two weeks, Cam had spent an ungodly number of hours worrying about a job she didn’t know if she was going to get. Her thoughts had been almost entirely negative and yet …
Now that she knew it was hers, she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. Because she finally had direction. All was not lost. She had a job offer on the table from a reputable company that would pay well, offer solid benefits, and put her near multiple people she cared about.
What more could she ask for?
“I’ll help you look for a place,” Drew added. “It’ll be so fun with you in town.”
She nodded as he babbled on about neighborhoods, and his favorite bars, and the best spots for ramen. Except …
“I haven’t officially received an offer,” she explained gently, “and…”
“And what?”
“And that means I haven’t accepted anything.”
He tilted his head, as if the new angle would help him understand her better. “Camille, come on. You’re going to accept.” When she stared at him, he blinked. “Right?”
“I…”
Of course she was going to accept. She didn’t have anything else lined up.
She hadn’t even been looking for a job when this one dropped into her lap.
Instead, she’d fallen victim to the delusions that maybe, just maybe, she could survive with a different career.
That something like writing would somehow pay the bills.
That staying in Elswick was a legitimate option, and not a postcard fantasy.
An existential crisis was great and all, but it was just another hurdle on the way to her next job.
“I’ll accept,” she said, not liking the way her stomach flipped. “But I need the offer letter to see salary and benefits before I make a formal decision.”
“Hey, I get it! I’m so happy for you.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Talk about a solid birthday weekend.”
“Yeah, but Drew … please don’t mention anything to Danny, okay? I’ll tell him once I accept.” When he mimed zipping his lips, she added, “Thank you. For everything.”
“That’s what friends do, Camille.”
As Drew switched gears and chattered on about their plans, Cam pushed away her worries about the job. This weekend was about her birthday. About the end to a not-so-good twenty-five. About the celebration of a much anticipated twenty-six.
Not about her impending departure from Elswick and the unavoidable conversation she’d need to have with Danny.
With all the confusing feelings rushing through her, maybe distance from him was exactly what she needed.
Saturday started in a flurry of communications. First a phone call with her parents, followed by a FaceTime with Morgan. Even Cory texted her, as he always did, wishing her a happy birthday and telling her to have fun with Danny and Drew.
She felt so loved and appreciated. Especially when she skipped into the kitchen and found the guys arguing about the placement of their breakfast spread.
“You already insisted on serving bagels, so can you at least let me decorate—” Drew stopped once he noticed her. He threw his arms out, grinning. “Camille! Happy birthday! You’re fucking old now!”
Across the kitchen island, there were iced drinks from Café Tupelo, a freshly cut fruit salad that Reggie whined beneath, and a tray of bagels and fixings.
A single bagel had been filled with cream cheese and closed, its edges rolled in sprinkles like an ice cream sandwich.
One candle was shoved into the hole, and when she approached the bagel, Danny produced their gas station lighter.
“Happy birthday, Milly,” Danny said, wearing those black-framed glasses that had her hungry for a different type of breakfast. He lit the candle. “Make a wish.”
With a stomach full of butterflies, she closed her eyes and blew out the candle.
I wish summer would never end.
Drew clapped obnoxiously as the candle smoked, then immediately handed out empty plates. “I’m really sorry about this. I couldn’t talk Danny out of bagels.”
“Birthday bagels,” Danny replied, as if it was obvious. “Cam loves bagels and lox. You’re the only one who doesn’t.”
Despite his complaints, Drew grabbed a bagel. “Birthday breakfast is for, like … giant stacks of pancakes covered in chocolate. Not bread, cheese that isn’t actually cheese, and fish.”
“Well, we can agree to disagree,” Cam said, plucking a piece of cantaloupe from the fruit salad. She ate half of it and fed the other to a very patient Reggie. “I think this is perfect. Thank you both.”
Danny handed her one of the drinks from Café Tupelo. “Your favorite.”
One sip had her brows jumping. It was the best version she’d had all summer. “This is really good. It tastes different.”
“I added cinnamon.” He prepared his bagel in deep concentration.
“You do that here, so … I figured you might like it that way.” Once he finished making his plate, he grabbed a present from one of the stools.
Cam recognized the gift wrap—the adorable cartoon dogs in party hats—as being sold at Brush Stroke.
Imagining him at the local stationery store, picking up paper she’d like with perfectly matching ribbons and bows …
She sat on the stool, not confident her legs would continue working. “You didn’t need to get me anything,” she said as he handed her the box. “Danny … you’ve already done so much.”
“It’s nothing,” he insisted. “And you might not even like it. I know it could be something you’re super particular about.”
Unsure what he could mean, she wasted no time tearing into the gift. Her fingers traced the smooth letters on the box. It was a wireless keyboard, the same color as the journal he’d bought her.
“I’ve heard you complaining about your R key not working properly and you shouldn’t have to deal with that while writing a book. But if it’s not the right kind, or the style you like, I can exchange it for—”
“It’s perfect.” She hugged him. “Thank you.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “Anything for you, Milly.”
Relaxing into his hold, she dropped her head to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat for nearly ten seconds, until Drew decided that moment was the right time to start babbling.
“Camille, I hope you weren’t expecting anything else,” Drew said, halfway through his bagel. “My presence is my gift.”
When she pulled away from Danny, she grabbed a plate. “That’s fair. My presence was your birthday gift.”
Drew held the last quarter of his bagel in the air, as if making a toast. “And that’s why you’re my favorite.”
Danny clutched his chest, feigning weakness as he stumbled into the island. “Ouch. And here I thought I was your favorite.”
Drew shrugged. “I can’t compete for affection with the furball at your feet.”
Grinning, Danny hauled Reggie into his arms. Reggie rested his head on Danny’s shoulder and stared at Drew, puppy eyes in full effect. With a defeated sigh, Drew fed Reggie a piece of pineapple.
Danny laughed. “Once we finish breakfast, we can hit the beach.” Reggie remained in his arms, being bounced up and down like a tired toddler. “And for dinner, we’ll do whatever you want, Cam.”
Drew raised one hand and used the other to prepare a second bagel. “I vote pizza.”
“And it’s not your birthday.” Danny shifted Reggie to his other arm so the dog had better access to Drew for begging. “It’s up to Cam.”
“As much as I hate agreeing with him,” she replied, laughing, “pizza sounds really good. Shoreside Pizzeria?”
“Success!” Drew groaned around his bagel. “But I would’ve accepted anything without salmon.”
“You’re twenty-six now,” Danny said. “Maybe you should get over your aversion to seafood.”
“I’m not averse to seafood. It’s just … at the bottom of the list of food I want to eat.”
“Whenever we have sushi,” Cam added, “you order California rolls. But you know imitation crabmeat is made with cheap fish, right?”
Drew scowled. “Then I guess I’m sticking to avocado rolls from now on.”
With one bite of bagel, and Danny holding Reggie like a baby, and Drew complaining about being tricked into eating the mustard found in blue crabs as a child, she smiled.
She hoped twenty-six would be the best year yet.