Working as a marketing assistant at beauty and makeup giant Ansen Creative Cosmetics (ACC) was not what twenty-six year old Cameron King wanted. But La Belle, Ansen's rival, wasn't hiring and ACC was the next best thing. So what can she do but accep...
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When Fiora brought out Cameron's dish, she'd been sitting with Wren for ten minutes. The two women were complete opposites, Cameron had noticed by that point. Here she was, wearing no makeup and no jewelry save a gold necklace, her hair in a ponytail that had seen better days, wearing a cotton jogger set that she'd gotten from a department store, and here Wren was: the image of put-together, wearing an outfit, jewelry, and a purse that Cameron knew probably cost her a year's salary. Cameron hadn't even glanced at Wren's shoes to know they were expensive. She could just tell that the woman opposite her came from money.
"I've seen you at Ansen," Wren said, after she asked Cameron if she could join her. Cameron had obliged, a bit curious as to what Wren wanted to say. Cameron didn't confirm or deny Wren's observation.
"Would you like to order?" Fiora asked, setting Cameron's food in front of her but looking at Wren. Fiora knew all of Cameron's friends, knew what to look for when Cameron was uncomfortable, and Wren obviously wasn't a friend of Cameron's so her tone was guarded but still customer-friendly. Wren beamed up at the older woman, completely comfortable.
"Just a glass of your most expensive white," Wren said. "Thank you."
Fiora nodded and glanced at Cameron, who shook her head, before walking away. Cameron started eating, ravenous and still a bit drunk on nail salon wine.
"I saw you when Elliot and I were arguing," Wren continued. "He told me not to get near your for some reason, so I looked you up. You're Cameron, right?"
Cameron gave a curt nod and Wren smiled again, the action lighting up her face. How did Wren know who she was? Who did she talk to?
"Great!"
Fiora returned with a wineglass and bottle, and then poured the wine for Wren. Wren picked up the glass, swirled it around, and then sniffed. "Wonderful. Grazie."
Fiora nodded and walked away, but Cameron knew she was keeping an eye on the two of them, ready to intervene if necessary. She knew that Fiora had already told Daniele, her husband, about the woman sitting with Cameron.
"Don't be so tense," Wren said, her voice tinkling with laughter. "I'm not here to warn you to stay away from him. You can do whatever you want with him."
"Then why are you here?" Cameron asked, finally speaking. "What do you want?"
Wren set her glass down on the table, schooling her features into a cool mask.
"I want you to know that if you do get into a relationship with Elliot," she said, "that you're going to have your work cut out for you. They're an easy man to fall in love with, but not an easy man to love. Considering I dated them for five years, I should know."
Cameron blinked once, then twice, then a third time, flabbergasted and completely sobered up. This was what Wren had wanted to talk to Cameron about? A relationship with Elliot?
"I think you're misunderstanding something here," Cameron said, holding her hands up. "Elliot and I aren't interested in each other. Far from it. He thinks that I'm trying to sabotage his position and accused me of being a spy for you. A relationship is the last thing I want from that man." Though the voice in the back of her head had a list of things that she did want from him.
Wren's mouth dropped into an "O". "Really?" she asked. At Cameron's nod, she sighed. "Well damn. Here I was thinking that Elliot was finally moving on and becoming interested in someone and was trying to warn me away from you because you're cute as fuck and all, and of course they takes things the wrong way. The man is too paranoid for their own good and doesn't know how to talk to people."
"Yeah..." Cameron said, picking up her food. "Sure."
"Cameron."
It was two days later, and Cameron had almost convinced herself that the conversation that she had with Elliot's ex-girlfriend was just an alcohol-induced dream. She'd returned home after she ate and fell asleep, only waking up in the middle of the night with the urge to pee and eat the rest of the banana pudding Callista had made.
Wren hadn't asked for Cameron's number, and had left the restaurant as soon as she finished her glass of wine and paid, leaving Cameron as if she'd just experienced a whirlwind. Fiora had checked on her, but she was fine and insisted on paying for her food even though Fiora protested, as per usual.
Now, she was sitting outside the Ansen Creative building, scrolling through her feed and figuring out what make-up looks and trends she wanted to try while she was on her break. Her make-up routine had become frighteningly basic, what with her hectic workload and her leaving the house late almost every morning because her car was starting to cut on slower and slower. Though she dreaded it, she knew a new car was in her future and she needed to start researching what she wanted to buy.
A shadow passed over her and, thinking it was a cloud and that she imagined the deep voice in front of her, she looked up, creating a visor with her hands and squinting in the sunlight. She fought not to groan. It was Elliot. Of course.
"Elliot," she replied, mimicking his voice. She'd been trying to avoid him since they'd last spoken, and it had been working. He never approached her at work, and he hadn't been at the gym the day before. When they were working last week, the only person he'd been communicating with was Selene, and that was only to let her know that he was sending over Reuben.
"Wren told me she met you yesterday," he said. Cameron rolled her eyes, and Elliot flinched. "Well, she actually read me the riot act. I'm sorry about making assumptions without any credible basis."
Cameron shrugged, pretending that she wasn't surprised that Wren called him out. I shouldn't be surprised, she thought. They used to date, after all. Then she glanced at her phone. Ten minutes left on her break.
She beamed a smile as fake as her elementary school pictures—the ones where she had just come from the playground, was missing her two front teeth, and had one puff staying upright and the other lopsided with a barrette hanging on by a single strand of curly hair—and said "No worries."
"Don't lie," Elliot said. He was still standing in the sun, and while Cameron enjoyed the fact that he was casting some literal shade, it was still early spring and the sun had been a welcome embrace. "I haven't been the best coworker, and I'm absolutely certain it bothered you."
Cameron's smile dropped. "It did," she answered. "And to be honest, if we don't really talk anymore, I'm fine with that. Just go back to ignoring me here and at the gym, and I won't have to call you out on your shit."
Elliot looked taken aback. Like he hadn't expected Cameron to be completely honest in that moment.
And she truly was being honest. On her drive to work this morning, all she could think about was how she'd somehow become involved in some kind of bad break-up movie. An attractive guy at her job was accusing her of being a spy for his equally attractive ex-girlfriend, and she was in the middle trying to live her life and not get involved—which didn't work because she happened to overhear one conversation and then get saved by the same attractive guy at the gym. It was ridiculous.
"In fact," Cameron stated, standing up, "you can start right now. My break is over and I'd appreciate it if I could finish my workday without you glaring at me."
