Page 20

CHAPTER 20

Cami

It’s an act of sacrifice to hold your arms in the same position for many minutes in a row in order to achieve the perfect curls. The cramps and the shoulder pains are all worth it though as I stare back at my reflection in the mirror.

I slicked back an inch or so on either side of my hair, tucking them behind my ears and giving the illusion of a headband. The rest of my hair hangs in big loose Hollywood waves, cascading over my shoulders. The hairstyle pulls the front section of hair away from my face, making my gold earrings stand out.

I stayed true to my word and am wearing pink tonight. The dress is a soft pink with a fitted, but modest, top. It flares out at my hips and floats down to mid-calf. It’s silky and shiny and pretty much every girly girl’s dream dress. As much as I’d love to wear something a little more show-stopping, I figured our first public appearance should be a bit safer. I’ve paired it with a pair of black kitten heels and a small black clutch. Something tells me Charlie will be wearing black tonight, so hopefully we pair together well.

I’ve been getting ready all afternoon, making sure there isn’t a hair out of place, and I am fully prepared to play hockey star girlfriend. Charlie called me earlier today and let me know that Sophie wants some press photos of us tonight so she can make sure our relationship is “officially announced” and that I should expect cameras. The phone call made everything even more real, so I’ve been distracting myself with tasks all day.

This morning I walked to the coffee shop down the block from my apartment. It’s become one of the places I frequent and has that classic New York charm about it. It doesn’t have an actual name, the word “Coffee” above the door is the only marking, so Alana and I have started referring to it as coffeecoffeecoffee . Very Lorelai Gilmore-esque. I went with a dirty chai, double shot of espresso obviously. A dirty chai in the winter always feels like a solid choice.

After I grabbed coffee, I hopped on the subway and got off at W 94 th street, then walked the five minutes to Central Park. I don’t normally go there often, but for some reason I felt like I needed a walk in a pretty park, so that’s where I ended up. Normally, I would drag Alana with me for coffee and a walk, but I couldn’t because she’s thousands of miles away. The pang of missing her is growing all too familiar and it proves to me that I wouldn’t want to live anywhere she wasn’t. Of course, life throws you unexpected things sometimes, but if I have any say in it I will live within driving distance of Alana for my entire life.

Unable to stop the heartsick feeling, I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.

Me

I got coffeecoffeecoffee

Bestie Friend

Noooo. I miss it. What did you get?

Me

Dirty chai

Bestie Friend

YUM. Take a sip for me. Miss you!

Me

Miss you more

I walked around for an hour or so before heading home, and I have been home since then. Getting ready for my first date with Charlie Cade.

Cheese and crackers this is insane.

I’m still standing in the bathroom, working on clasping my necklace, when I hear the door to the apartment open and shut.

“Cam?” Charlie shouts.

“Back here.”

I hear his footsteps as he approaches and while I was prepared for him to look good tonight, I was not prepared for him to look this good. My eyes start at his feet and make a slow ascent up his body. He’s wearing a pair of black Oxford dress shoes and black dress pants that are tailored specifically for him. They fit his hips and backside like a hug and taper down at the ends perfectly. He’s got a white button up tucked into them and a black jacket thrown on top. As my eyes meet his chest, I see the light pink pocket square that matches my dress exactly.

My eyes meet his and he smiles at me, then suddenly breaks eye contact. He looks down in what seems to be shyness, but it does little to hide his blush. Not that I care, because my cheeks are heated as well. I step forward and wrap him in a hug. It takes him half a second, but he wraps his big long arms around me and squeezes. We stand there like that for what seems like forever, before he finally pulls back to look at me.

“You look stunning,” he says as his eyes slowly drink me in.

“Not so bad yourself,” I reply, reaching up and shoving his shoulder playfully. “I just need to put my necklace on and I’ll be ready to go.”

I turn and move back towards my vanity where my jewelry sits. I pick the simple gold chain back up and start to reach behind me, but his hand on my wrist stills my movement.

“Here, let me,” he says as he reaches around me and grabs both ends of the necklace from my hands. I reach back and pull my hair away from my neck, so he has room to clasp the ends together. I feel his hands softly brush the back of my neck and I shiver. Glancing up, I see the slight lift of his lips in the mirror and curse my body for reacting to his.

This whole thing is not real, I remind myself.

I feel the cool metal rest on my skin, and a second later he takes my hair from my hands and lightly lets it down, then smooths it gently. I look at us now in the mirror, him towering over me from behind, and we look good together. For just a second, I imagine what this might be like if it were real, but am quickly humbled by the jarring noise of his phone ringing in his pocket.

Serves me right. I shouldn’t be thinking things like that.

“Thanks,” I mouth to him while he presses the answer button. He nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Soph.” I watch as he listens and nods his head in understanding a few times. “Yeah, we’re about to head out. The car is downstairs.” A few more nods. “Yes we should arrive around half past six. We’ll be ready.”

After a few goodbyes, they end the call and he turns back to me.

“Ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He reaches down and grabs my hand, weaving his fingers through mine.

“I thought you said no touching unless we were in public,” I say, referring to our texts from yesterday.

“I figured we could use a little practice before we’re out in front of the cameras.”

“Not a bad idea, I guess.”

We leave my apartment and head down to the car. He opens the door and ushers me in first and then slides in next to me. The driver confirms the address and we’re off. Being out with Charlie while he is being a perfect gentleman is a completely different feeling than being out with him as one of my friends. He’s always cared for me and opened my door or let me go first when stepping out of an elevator, stuff like that. But being cared for like I’m his …that is a whole new ballgame. Holding hands, putting on necklaces, and the hand he rests on my knee when we sit in the back of the car has me sweating just a bit. So much for rules, that lasted less than twenty-four hours.

I look down at his hand on my knee, then pointedly up to him. I repeat the path with my eyes a few times until he gets the hint.

“Just practicing,” he says with a rub of his thumb back and forth on my knee. He seems confident, but the way his hand shakes gives him away.

“Okay,” I reply, feeling stiff and awkward. This doesn’t feel uncomfortable, which is probably not a good thing, but the fact that our relationship has changed so quickly makes me jumpy and self conscious in a way I haven’t felt before.

I watch the city outside the window as we drive the half hour to the theater, staring at the people walking by and trying to calm my nerves. It isn’t far from my apartment, but it takes twice as long to get anywhere in the city. We don’t say much on the ride over, both too in our heads.

As we pull closer, I see at least ten men with cameras just hanging out on the sidewalk. People walk into the building, but they don’t care much for any of them. They seem content to lean against the side of the building, until they see our car pull up. Suddenly the sides of the car are swarmed with men and their camera lenses are pressed to the window. Sophie must’ve really called the most enthusiastic reporters she knows, because while I’m sure people care about hockey I don’t think they care this much about hockey. Charlie takes a deep breath beside me.

“Ready?” he asks.

“I guess. Let’s do this.”

He opens the door and slides out, then turns around to block my body from the cameras as I get out and smooth down my dress. Once I have my footing, he steps back so we can shut the door and takes my hand in his, then leads me towards the door of the theater.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” he whispers sternly in my ear. He doesn’t have to tell me twice, I am counting on his body to make a path for me to get through. I nod up at him and we continue forward.

Everyone on the street has stopped to watch us, and I take a deep breath before forcing a confident and sexy smile on my face. I am dating this man, I remind myself. I am here so the fans fall in love with us. I can do this.

I press the side of my body into his as we walk. Flashes go off in every direction and I have to work hard not to squint at the bright lights. People are shouting all around us.

Charlie, who’s this hottie?

Charlie, are you two dating? When did this happen?

Miss, can I have your number?

Come on Charlie, move your hand a little south for a photo!

He stops in his tracks at that last one and turns to glare at the photographer that said it. I didn’t realize it, but the driver stepped out of the car and is following behind us, keeping reporters from crowding too close. Once he pinpoints the sleazy man in the crowd, he turns his serious face to our driver.

“I want his credentials,” he says in the lowest voice I’ve ever heard from him. It causes a shiver to roll through me. The driver nods and turns, heading for the guy.

He pulls me closer into him in a protective gesture and pushes through the front doors to the theater. As they close behind us, the sounds of the shouting outside ceases and I take a deep breath. Charlie turns towards me, so I’m facing him, and pinches my chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting my head up so he can look me in the eye.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry that guy said that. I promise I’ll take care of it.” He seems so worried and I can’t help but let out a little laugh. He furrows his brow in confusion.

“I’m okay, I promise. I’ve heard worse being catcalled on my way to work. Trust me.”

“Maybe I need to walk you to work from now on.” I laugh at his outrageous comment, but he seems completely serious.

“It’s just par for the course. Being a woman in society is a dangerous sport. Occupational hazard. Seriously, I’m okay. I want to enjoy the ballet.”

He pauses a moment and his hands flinch by his side, but he doesn’t move them.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” He reaches down and slides his hand into mine again. I ignore the way it comforts me. “Let’s go find our seats.”