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Chapter 8

Sunny mornings in Seattle aren't anything to take for granted. Way too many days, Camila had to power walk through the rain. So, on this particular morning, she was taking it all in. It was getting pretty chilly, sure. It was late September. But, all in all, it was much more pleasant than it would be in a few short weeks. It was a nice morning. No, a great morning. Not even Terri, the forever complaining Starbucks barista, could bring her down today.

Camila was nearly skipping as she maneuvered herself between bodies on her way to work. She had just drained the last of her iced coffee and was reaching for her headphones when she felt a vibration in her pocket.

"And what do I owe this pleasure?" she answered.

"I took an early lunch," Lauren said. "I wanted to catch you before you got busy."

"Oh, what's up?"

"Nothing," the New Yorker replied shyly. "Just...saying hi."

Camila beamed, "Hi."

"And I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

"I keep flaking out on you," Lauren griped, "and it's not cool."

"I know you're busy with Ariana, Lo. That's your job."

"Yeah," the other woman said. "But I'd rather be with you...talking to you. I'd rather be talking to you."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Camila said. "I have no doubt about it."

"Good," Lauren was pleased. "How's your morning been?"

"Awesome," the brunette replied as she winked at an elderly man passing her on the street. "It's a great day in Seattle."

"No rain?"

"Not today."

"It does sound like a great day in Seattle then," Lauren agreed. "So...I wanted to ask you something last night before Ariana kept me out babysitting."

"You want my lucky number now? Shoe size? Favorite Sesame Street character?" Camila just couldn't let the favorite color thing go. It was too cute and every time it crossed her mind, she felt like she was floating on a cloud of marshmallow cream. "It's the Cookie Monster, by the way."

"Really?" Lauren was surprised. "I would have pegged you for an Elmo girl."

"Nope," Camila threw her empty cup into a trashcan outside her office building. "Lemme guess, you like Oscar?"

"'Cause I'm a bitch, I have to like the grouch?" the woman complained.

"Logical conclusion."

"Bad assumption," Lauren said. "Actually, I'm with the Count all the way."

"Ah-ah-ah."

"Exactly."

"Counting is fun."

"You always get me sidetracked," Lauren laughed.

"I'm sorry, what was it you wanted to know?" Camila asked as she passed the elevator bank and headed toward the stairwell so she could prolong the conversation.

"I thought maybe...if...you want to...we could possibly ramp up our...interactions. Maybe."

The brunette stopped suddenly on the second set of stairs she had come to. "What do you mean?"

"We don't have to," Lauren backtracked furiously. "It was just a suggestion, don't worry about it."

"No, really," Camila had leaned against a rail. "What do you mean?"