CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
Technically we weren’t alone. Sadie, Dan, Rick, and Krista were all still in the room.
But I found myself wanting us to be.
I sucked up the last bit of my drink as I saw Carol walking by. I waved her in and asked for another. “You got it,” she said.
Then I made the mistake of looking over at Sadie, who waggled her eyebrows at me, silently cheering us on like we were her favorite couple on a dating reality show.
“It seems like Sadie is trying to send you not-so-secret signals,” Camden remarked. Of course he’d seen.
“She wants me to be nice to you. Like I’m your wedding geisha or something, here to entertain you during the festivities.” The words slipped out of me and while they were a tad bit tinged with resentment at being put in this position when I’d told everyone I didn’t want to be, the truth was I did enjoy being around Camden. No matter what I said to everybody else.
“Or she just thought we’d hit it off.”
“She’s very delusional that way,” I said.
“If there’s one thing I’ll say about Sadie, she’s definitely not delusional.”
Carol returned with another frozen daiquiri and I thanked her while I tried not to think about what Camden had just said. Because what was that supposed to mean? Was he just appreciating her realism or was he hinting that there might be something between him and me?
I hated trying to figure out men. Especially ridiculous men who thought ridiculous things.
“Girls do this. Especially when they’re brides. They want to set everybody up and have them all pair off like we’re about to board Noah’s Marriage Ark. Do your friends do that?” I asked.
“Nope. My friends are guys.”
That made me laugh without meaning to, and now it was my turn to accidentally spray Camden with pink liquid.
“I’m sorry!” I said, still giggling.
“Just don’t try to grope me and we’ll call it even,” he said with a wink. “It’s good to see you laughing, though. For a bit there you were looking like the before picture for Prozac.”
“Clubs aren’t as much fun when you’re not drinking.” Maybe Camden wasn’t as fluent in body language as he thought. I wasn’t depressed. I felt ... unmoored. Like I was drifting through a situation I had no clue how to handle and I didn’t enjoy that feeling. I was used to things going my way and I liked being in charge of my life.
Now Camden was upending all of that and I didn’t know what to do about it. The first issue was that all of this was happening solely because he wanted to get information from me. Which definitely put a huge damper on things, but only when I remembered. And he made it oh so easy to forget.
The main issue was my rule: no dating men at work. I couldn’t go against a rule that I had set.
You made the rule, you can unmake it. You’re the boss,my mom’s voice said.
Yes, so I have to be the example.
From Camden’s questioning expression I realized that I’d said the words out loud. Arguing with my inner-mother voice as if she were here in the room with us.
Pretty humiliating.
I tried to direct him a different way. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You didn’t want to ask me what city I was born in or the name of my childhood pet?”
“I’m not allowed to ask you any questions. It was what you said you wanted for your birthday.”
That was seriously the sweetest thing ever. He was being not annoying as a present for me. I could feel my heart doing little happy flips in my chest.
Before I could respond he added, “But I’m not really sure how to have a conversation without asking questions.”
“It is difficult,” I said, staying quiet to make it a bit harder.
“You could ask me questions,” he offered.
“I could. But I don’t think I will.”
“That’s not fair.”
I took another sip of my drink as I shrugged. “I’m not trying to be.”
Camden took that challenge with a little half smile. “Okay. So, you should tell me what sort of things you do in your free time.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, being deliberately obtuse.
“A hobby, perhaps.” He was choosing his words so carefully, trying to skirt around the “no questions” situation.
“I do have hobbies. There are things I do in my free time that I definitely enjoy.”
“It would be helpful if you could be maybe seventy-four percent less vague.”
“It would also be helpful if you could be like, seventy-four percent more honest,” I told him.
“What am I not being honest about?” He finally caved and asked a question, either forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to be doing that or he was truly perplexed by my statement.
I reminded myself that this was not the time to confront him about his misplaced suspicions. This was about Sadie and her wedding. It wasn’t my chance to pretend like I was on one of those daytime talk shows where I’d strap him to a lie detector to prove “that was a lie!”
“You know,” I told him, “I said I didn’t want you to interrogate me. I didn’t say anything about not asking me questions. Those two things are different. I know a conversation is supposed to be give-and-take.”
His hand drifted up, like he meant to touch my face, and my cheek tingled in anticipation. Then there was the sinking disappointment when I realized he wasn’t going to follow through.
But he made up for it when he said in a low, rough voice, “I think I’d like giving and taking with you.”
That had me swallowing hard, made my breathing shallow. My body apparently didn’t care that none of this was real. I cleared my throat, trying to relieve the tightness. “I know that asking questions about another person is important. The last man I went on a date with didn’t ask me any questions at all. Well, that’s not strictly true. He did say, ‘What else do you want to know about me?’”
He studied me for a moment, like I was a mystery he didn’t understand. “I find it hard to believe that anyone lucky enough to date you wouldn’t want to know everything about you.”
He’s playing us,I tried to tell my lady bits, but they were not listening. I needed to get all of us off this track. “You asked how I spend my free time. Um, I read. I watch TV. I volunteer on weekends when I’m not working. Boring stuff like that.”
Camden nodded slightly, as if agreeing to the change in subject. “Where do you volunteer?” he asked.
“There’s this shelter downtown that’s associated with the humane society.”
“Do you mean the Herbert and Wanda Leibowitz Center?”
That made me raise my eyebrows. “You know it?”
“Yes. That’s one of my charities. We give them a large donation every year. Why haven’t I ever seen you around?”
“Um, probably because I go to the local shelter and you hobnob with bigwigs at galas.”
He seemed a bit confused, and it suddenly occurred to me that I probably wasn’t supposed to know that he had money. I could easily explain it away by the quality of his clothes or his expensive watch, but to my surprise he didn’t ask a follow-up question.
“I adopted my cat, Belle, from there. She’s part Maine coon. A silver tabby.”
Wow, that “I was just headbutted” feeling was back. Why was it incredibly hot that he owned a cat? So many guys hated cats and considered them to be “woman pets” that it immediately told me three things about Camden that I hadn’t known so far—that he was secure in himself and his masculinity; that he might be a little unconventional; and given the affection in his voice as he talked about his kitty, that he had a big and loving heart.
All three of those things were incredibly attractive.
Camden, not knowing my brain had gone for a walk down He’s Hot Lane, was still talking. “She’s so smart. Too smart for her own good, I think. She knows exactly how to manipulate me into getting treats. I’d show you a picture but ...”
“But your portable telegraph machine doesn’t take very good photos?” I guessed.
Ignoring my slam on his outdated technology he asked, “What about you? Do you have pets?”
“I travel a lot for work, so it hasn’t really been practical. I have thought I’d like to get a cat. They seem more independent than dogs.”
“And more rewarding, in my experience.”
“What do you mean?”
He finished off the last of his drink before he answered. “There’s something triumphant about a little sociopath deigning to cuddle with you. It’s like winning a prize. Dogs love everybody. Too easy—”
“That’s not true,” I interrupted. “My mom’s three rescue dogs hate me. She got them because I won’t give her grandchildren. She treats them like they’re her babies. They’ve gone on more vacations than I did growing up and I’m pretty sure they have nicer bedrooms and better food.” Realizing that I might be revealing a bit too much about my issues with my mom, I shook my head. “But enough about that. I’m more of a cat person, too.”
It seemed like I was talking a lot. Was I talking a lot?
“I feel like I should grab a notebook so that I could make a list of all the things it turns out we have in common.”
“A list?” I echoed, my heart racing.
“I like making lists. It gives me the illusion of being in control.”
That was seriously the sexiest thing a man had ever said to me. I could only sit there with my mouth hanging open.
He briefly brushed his fingers against the side of my hair. “My guess is you’re that way, too. Everything about you seems a tad controlled. Even your hair.”
Without thinking, I reached up to touch the same spot on the side of my head that he had. This wasn’t about control, was it? It was about convenience. It took far less time to twist my hair and put it up than it would to leave it down and have to curl or straighten it.
And I liked being in control. Who didn’t? “I can be flexible. Totally flexible. Just as long as everything is going exactly the way I want it to.”
At that he laughed and the sound of it made me feel like my veins were full of fizzy champagne bubbles. “What’s not going your way now?”
“So many things. The bride’s mother is a total—” I caught myself and continued, “Has a strong affinity for liquor, and her ex-husband and his inappropriately aged fiancée make her nuts and in the past they’ve gotten into public fights and as Sadie’s maid of honor it is my job to make sure that there’s no Real Housewives moments.”
“Nothing’s happened like that.”
“Yet. Because I’m keeping an eye on things. I really want this to go well for Sadie.” And it wasn’t just because I was hoping she’d refer other people to me, but because I genuinely liked her as a person and wanted her to have the wedding of her dreams.
Yep, I was definitely talking a lot and had almost said things I shouldn’t have. It was like sitting close to him was just destroying all of my defenses.
He shifted slightly, somehow getting closer so that our knees pressed together. This caused a trembling sensation that started at my knee and climbed up into my stomach. I didn’t move away, and neither did he.
He said, “You could get on a plane tomorrow, and everybody at the wedding could start throwing punches and hitting each other in the face with folded chairs and Sadie and Dan would still be blissfully happy.”
“They really do love each other,” I agreed. “But I heard you weren’t much of a fan in the beginning.”
“I was a little worried that ...”
“What?” I asked innocently when his voice trailed off.
“That maybe she wasn’t with him for the right reasons. But I was wrong. And I say when I’m wrong.”
I appreciated that, too. I’d dated more than one man who, if they’d been under the penalty of death, still wouldn’t have admitted that they somehow might have possibly been wrong at some point in time. “Me too. You can add that to your list.”
His expression turned serious. “Rachel, listen, there’s something I want to—”
Sadie and Dan had approached us. “We should do cake!” she exclaimed.
I was torn—I wanted to hear what Camden had been about to say, but I also really, really, really loved cake.
Dan brought it over and put it onto the table in front of me. It had white frosting with red icing roses—my favorite. It said Happy Birthday, Rachel in red writing. Dan grabbed birthday candles from his front pocket and started just putting the whole lot of them on top of the cake. There were so many I felt a bit insulted.
Especially when Camden added, “And exactly how old are you again?”
I was about to object to the whole blowing-out-the-candle thing. I hadn’t done that in years. I almost never celebrated my real birthday if I could help it. It usually made me stressed.
But I saw how excited Sadie was and I didn’t have it in me to resist.
Krista joined the rest of the wedding party. Mary-Ellen was laughing and hanging all over Vance and I tried to ignore the sense of relief that I felt.
Our waitress came in and offered to grab us another round of drinks and everyone said yes.
Once she left, Dan lit the candles and they all started singing “Happy Birthday” to me. Camden’s voice was rich and surprisingly on key, and I found myself focusing on that sound and keeping my gaze pointed at the candles.
Probably because part of me felt like a fraud. I spent so much time lying to people, but I was starting to really hate it this time. And I was pretty sure that was mostly due to Camden.
I didn’t want to lie to him, but I had to.
When they finished singing Sadie told me, “Make a wish!”
I wish things were different and that Camden would really like me and that I could be honest with him.
I blew out the candles in one shot and everyone cheered. I decided to shove those guilty feelings out of my mind and do my best to be present and enjoy myself.
Krista grabbed her gift. “Open mine first!”
It still seemed a little silly to be getting presents for this non-event, but I was surprised at how relaxed I currently felt. It probably helped that this wasn’t my actual birthday. There was no pressure on me, no phone call from my mother to remind me that with every year that passed my eggs were edging ever closer to their Best if Used By date. There was no feeling like I hadn’t met all the goals I’d set for myself that year. It probably helped that I didn’t know half the people in this room. Being surrounded by mostly strangers made this strangely freeing.
I tore open the wrapping paper and saw that Krista had bought me a nice set of highlighters that would be perfect for my organizer. “Thank you,” I told her. “This was really thoughtful. I will definitely get a lot of use out of these!”
She grinned back at me, pleased with my reaction.
“Us next!” Sadie said, handing me a small gift bag. There was a ton of red tissue paper on top and I found a small black box at the bottom. If I didn’t know any better, I would have guessed that it was jewelry.
When I opened the box I let out a small gasp. There were a set of beautiful pale-pink pearl earrings. “This is too much,” I protested.
Sadie waved off my protest. “You can’t come to Hawaii and leave without pearls. We insist.”
“They’re so beautiful,” I said. “Thank you so much.” I’d had many brides give me gifts, but nothing like this.
“My turn,” Camden said, reaching for the last present on the table. It was oddly wrapped, and he placed it in my lap.
“This isn’t a flip phone, right? Because I don’t need to chat with Ulysses S.Grant.”
That made him laugh. “I’m not telling you what it is. You’re going to have to open it up and see.”