Page 37 of Pride & Precedents

Adam's sigh of relief is audible and Mom hides a laugh behind her napkin.

"Once again, Maya proves she's the coolest soon-to-be sister-in-law," Noah says, raising his glass to start a toast. "To Adam and Maya!"

We all raise our glasses.

"To Adam and Maya!"

On the way back to Westchester, I think about what Mom said. The attraction between Camila and I is off the charts, but what do I really know about her? For Christ's sake, I just found out she's in law school last week. There's a chance this whole thing could end in tears and flames. I scowl at the unpleasant thought. It might be ill-advised, but there must besomethingabout Camila that made me take the risk. When I'm with her, I'm notSub Zero, I'm justHenry. I think that's worth exploring.

One thing I can't get behind, though, is Mom's marriage mania. A healthy skepticism of all things marriage comes with the territory when you're a divorce attorney. I haven't been in anything resembling a relationship since…was it Naomi? Was she really the last woman I let myself get close to? And now she's hoping for something more as my client…

I sigh in frustration. I've had reason to be gun shy about getting serious. Naomi stomped on my heart and since that day, I've only seen more evidence that marriage leads to misery. Mom and Dad, as always, are the exception that proves the rule. I won't say anything to ruin Adam's big day—he clearly loves Maya—but I'm glad Camila and I are just keeping things casual.

Chapter sixteen

Camila

"Oh my God. I think I just came in my mouth!" Rory raves around a mouth full of Eggs Benedict. With her eyes closed in ecstasy, she misses my cringe. A24 finally booked her for an AD gig on their next feature film, and I'm treating her to brunch at Bea. It's cozy, and the food is delicious; it's almost worth braving the Times Square crowds a few blocks over. I'm not sure the bottomless cocktails were a great idea, though, based on Rory's passionate gesticulation and current lack of filter.

I slouch down in my seat.

"Could you act like you've been somewhere with tablecloths, please? They're gonna kick us out!" I hiss.

She gives an exaggerated lick of her fork without breaking eye contact, and I gulp down the last of my mimosa to soften my embarrassment. The waitress swoops in like a hawk.

"Another round of mimosas coming right up, ladies!" she practically sings. Great. Just what Rory needs: more alcohol.Before I can stop her (or suggest water instead), the waitress takes the empty carafe and departs as quickly as she arrived.

"Take your time!" Rory calls after her, a bit too loud.

I like to take my time, Ms. Sanchez.

Henry's words have been echoing in my head since he left me in a quivering pile of need propped up against my kitchen counter.

When I got stuck in a long line at the grocery store the next day:I like to take my time, Ms. Sanchez.

When I set the timer on my crock pot for this week's meal prep:I like to take my time, Ms. Sanchez.

Hell, even when I got stuck underground in the subway on the way here:I like to take my time, Ms. Sanchez.

One second, I'm a normal, functioning adult, and the next, I'm trying to hide the response in my panties from just the memory of his voice. I attempt to discreetly shift in my seat, but, of course, Rory doesn't miss a thing.

"What's up with you, sis?" she asks, looking pointedly at my lap.Busted.

"Nothing. Just…used the wrong fabric softener, I think." I stuff a bite of waffles into my mouth, hoping she'll let it drop. She doesn't even blink.

"You've been staring into space every few minutes, smiling when you think I don't notice. And now you're fidgeting in your seat like you're in heat. Try again."

Shit.And here I thought I was being stealthy. I've never been like her; she'll share the juicy details down to the color of the guy's underwear.How do I dish about sex with a sister I helped raise?

"Well…"

The waitress thankfully arrives with a fresh carafe of mimosas and I stall further by pouring us each a glass. She downs half ofhers at once, then puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hands.

"Mmm. Thank you. Now spill it."

Even tipsy, she's like a pit bull.I push my food around on my plate, refusing to make eye contact.

"Well, I…sorta…hooked up with Henry the other night."

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