Never Say Never by Rachael Sommers (books to get back into reading TXT) 📕

were recently photographed with a woman, were you not?”

Emily’s blood froze. She knew where this was going, and when Charlotte looked at her, she prayed the floor would open up and swallow her.

“A woman who, if I’m not mistaken, bears a striking resemblance to your nanny.”

She and Camila had never talked about the article linking the two of them together. In fact, Emily had almost forgotten about it.

Unlike certain other people in the room.

“Are you taking after your ex-husband, Camila? Screwing the help?”

“That is enough.” Her voice was low, but rage crackled through every word. Emily had never seen Camila so angry—the color had drained from her face, her eyes flashed, and her hand was curled into a fist at her side.

“Oh dear, have I crossed a line by bringing your girlfriend into this?”

Camila took a step forward, her mouth set, and Emily took another step back, ready to bolt.

“She is not the help,” Camila spat. “And she is not my girlfriend—not that it would be any of your business if she were.”

“On the contrary”—Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her daughter—“it’s very much my business who you date and what your image is—and three divorces and a twenty-year-old girlfriend don’t paint you in the best light.” Charlotte turned her attention to Emily. “And if you’re hoping to get something by—”

“You don’t get to look at her, let alone speak to her,” Camila snapped, positioning herself between Emily and her mother. “She’s here to do a job—which she is damn good at, by the way, and you are not going to scare her off.”

“My, my. You certainly have made an impression.” Emily knew that remark was directed at her, though she couldn’t see Charlotte’s face. “She didn’t even defend her husband like that.”

“Get out.” Camila’s voice dripped with acrimony, and Emily was a little surprised when Charlotte turned on her heel and stalked from the apartment.

The door clicked shut, leaving Emily and Jaime alone with Camila.

Camila was shaking, her face twisted with rage. Before Emily could open her mouth, Camila disappeared back to her bedroom, slamming the door violently behind her.

“Is it over?” Jaime mumbled, his mouth pressed close to Emily’s ear.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s over.”

He turned his head to see for himself, glancing around the room.

“That was intense, huh?”

“They always fight.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s mean to my mom. And she doesn’t like me.”

“Trust me, buddy—that’s probably not a bad thing.” She set him down carefully. “You want to play some more?” she asked, hoping he was ready for a distraction, and she was relieved when he nodded.

Camila’s team filed out of her bedroom, soon followed by the woman herself, a pair of high heels in her hands. Her jaw was still tight, her eyes still blazed with anger, but when she crouched down to say goodnight to Jaime, she spoke softly.

“Be good for Emily, young man,” she told him, kissing his head and looking like she wished more than anything she could stay. “And I’ll see you later, Emily.” Then she slipped into her shoes, closed the door behind her, and clicked her way down the hall.

Emily turned to Jaime. “What do you wanna do now, buddy?”

“Watch cartoons!”

“Cartoons it is.”

* * *

The evening was dreadful.

When she wasn’t dodging every single man (and even some not-single men) in attendance who thought he had a shot with her because she was there solo, then she was hearing about her mother’s many achievements and how she must be so proud—despite the fact that she herself was more successful in her field than Charlotte Evans would ever be in hers.

And she had to avoid the woman in question. She was still furious with her for the stunt she had pulled.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized it had been a calculated move.

Charlotte Evans had never been happy about her daughter’s bisexuality. She had probably seen that article and panicked that Camila’s next suitor would be a woman, that Camila would bring her tonight, and she must have been primed for attack when she walked into Camila’s apartment and come face-to-face with Emily.

Because the pictures may have been blurry, but her mother had a sharp eye.

She couldn’t believe the audacity, but she shouldn’t be surprised—tonight’s event was to honor Charlotte, after all, and she would have been furious if Camila had appeared with a woman on her arm.

She had thought about doing it just to piss her mother off, but then she thought of Emily, of the wounded look in her eyes the last time Camila had a date, and decided against it.

She wanted to keep Emily at a distance, but she didn’t want to be cruel.

Camila didn’t look at her mother once all night, fury still licking through her veins like fire, and Charlotte stayed away too. Camila hated that Charlotte got under her skin, but hearing her talk to Emily like that had just made something snap. Her reaction was probably a dead giveaway to her mother.

But maybe Emily was none the wiser.

She escaped as soon as she could, slipping out a side door and waiting only a few minutes for her car. She was home by eleven and opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake Jaime.

The apartment was dark, and it took her a moment to find Emily lying on the couch, fast asleep in the flickering light of the television. Camila stopped short at the sight of her, her throat tight with unexpected feelings flooding through her.

God, she was beautiful. Camila hadn’t looked at her too closely since the kiss, hadn’t wanted to be caught staring, but she let herself stare now, drinking in the sight of her face relaxed in sleep, the television casting shadows across her face.

She looked so young, so peaceful, with none of the hurt that always seemed to be lurking just below the surface whenever Camila met her gaze.

Camila was loathe to wake her, she’d rather watch her sleep, but her couch couldn’t be comfortable to sleep on. “Emily,” she said