Three Knocks | ✔️

07|

Camille lied like a charlatan to Sophia.

She arrived home on Monday around noon after an excellent family get-together, including her mother, who had been discharged during the weekend. Nonetheless, she informed her boss that she'll be back on Wednesday to resume work as her mother's health has deteriorated all of a sudden.

She has already ditched Jake Martell once. It shouldn't happen twice.

The plan remained the same. Utopia at eleven a.m. on Tuesday, except it will happen a week later. She wore a white T-shirt with a corgi printed in the middle and red plaid pants, less fiery than her loose hair cascading down her back.

She hailed an Uber and arrived half an hour earlier. If Jake had not stood up abruptly, she would have missed him.

"Hello Camille," he greeted, extending a hand towards her.

She shook it firmly as if they were conducting an official meeting.

Jake had selected the outdoor seat with a small round table that appeared cluttered with the two coffee cups and muffins. Camille removed her cross-body bag and placed it on the side, allowing the handle to sway.

"The coffee and muffin are for you. If you don't like it, I can buy you something else."

Camille smiled back at him, peering into his dark brown eyes that were no longer hidden with sunglasses or a cap.

"It's fine, Mr. Jake Martell."

"Please, call me Jake, Mr. Martell sounds like I have two years left to retire."

She giggled and dug into her muffin. The one Chloe had prepared on Sunday for brunch failed in comparison. Camille had eaten half and tossed the other half in the outer dustbin.

"Before we start, when did you last go out with a friend, family or someone else?"

"You mean eating out?"

He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she replied, "I can't remember. I eat my lunch in the van. My neighbour invited me to her son's birthday party not long ago. Restaurant or pub, no idea."

The outer sitting area became silent gradually, with few people going inside to order. They finished their drinks without Jake responding to her. He tightened his man bun and slipped on his sunglasses.

"You need to go out more often, Camille. The more you stay locked in your house, the more it will torment you."

"I work almost seven days. It's an unpredictable job."

"That's work. You are not relaxing. The week trip to your parents' house doesn't count either."

"It follows me everywhere like it has sworn to brand me crazy before I do something foolish."

"How did you deal with your folks that night?"

She sighed.

"A big rat has jumped on me. While trying to chase it away, I broke a chair on myself. My sister, brother-in-law and nephew were convinced."

His eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean a chair broke?"

"I suppose whatever it is loathe you. It knocked on any surface on which it could be projected. Now, it's innovating. The door opened and closed on its own. The chair flew and crashed on me."