Page 61 of The VIP Package

“That’s not typically something I’d broach in a business discussion.” I twirl my fork in a pile of linguine, curious why she’d think it might be. “Where does he think you are now?”

“He knows I cashed in the honeymoon and went on a trip by myself.” She frowns at the sea, watching a bright pair of toucans dip and weave. “Given he couldn’t be bothered to show up for our wedding, I kinda doubt he’s looked into it any further than that.”

“Rest assured, I have no reason to inform him of your whereabouts.”

“I’m not keeping it a secret. I’ll tell him, eventually.” She nibbles her lip. “Know what’s silly?”

“The platypus. The fact that Hawaii has an interstate.” So many other things. “Not what you meant?”

Still chewing her lip, she looks down at her plate. “I’ve spoken with Hayden several times since I got here. Always about the logistics of dividing our assets, the process of uncoupling, and it’s been amicable.”

“I don’t think that’s silly.”

“I hadn’t gotten to the silly part yet.” She pokes at a cherry tomato on the edge of her plate. “Hayden wouldn’t judge me for coming here. The man has his faults, but sex shaming isn’t one of them. He’d never think less of me for sleeping with someone so soon after our split. He wouldn’t get jealous at all.”

“That sounds…fair.” I’m still not hearing the silly part.

“It does, and that’s why I’m embarrassed.” Camille lifts her eyes and I’m struck by the heartache I see there. “Some silly little insecure part of me wants to believe that the man I lived with—the man I loved and was ready to marry—wouldfeelsomething about his former fiancée moving on so quickly.” She must be self-conscious about this admission, since she hurries to fill the short silence. “I don’t want Hayden to suffer. But I want to be someone he cared about enough to have feelings about our breakup. I just—” She looks up at the sky, searching for words. “I want to bewanted. And I never really felt that with him.”

I study her face. This woman, who’s so fucking kind and so generous with her feelings. Does she know how much I want her? I have my own faults, but I like to believe that I’ve spent this past week proving over and over just how desirable I find her.

“That makes sense,” I say softly. “We all want to be wanted.”

“Right, but—” She pokes the tomato again. “It’s ego, I know. And I guess I just don’t want to feel the sting of telling Hayden I’ve spent the past week having the best sex of my life andhearing him say, ‘that’s nice,’ and segue into dividing our water bill.”

My ego swells at the detail she buried in that statement. The best sex of her life? No doubt it’s the same for me, but I wasn’t aware Camille felt likewise.

Focus.

I clear my throat. “I hear what you’re saying,” I tell her. “Having a partner whose passion doesn’t match your own can be terribly painful.” I don’t want to make this about me, but I’m all too familiar with that feeling. “I’m sorry you’ve felt that way in your relationship.”

“That’s the thing, though.” Camille sets down her fork and picks up her water glass. “It never bothered me before. I thought having a no-nonsense, pragmatic partnership was the safest way to forge the lifelong bond of a relationship.”

For once in my life, my mind serves me the exact right thing to say. “Maybesafeisn’t the same thing ashappy.”

“You’re right,” she says, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. I didn’t even notice she’d started to cry. “Some fucking therapist I am, huh? That’s such an obvious thing. I can’t believe it never fucking occurred to me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I put a hand over hers and feel how her fingers are trembling. “A very wise therapist once told me that everyone makes mistakes.”

Camille sniffles and gives me a watery smile. “She sounds like a real bitch.”

“She’s the kindest, most thoughtful woman I’ve ever met.” I look in her eyes as I say it, so she knows I’m not lying. “Unless, of course, she feels the need to tell her former fiancée that the best sex of her life wasn’t with him. That’s just cruel.”

She laughs and picks up her fork again, drawing her hand out from under mine. “I promise I wouldn’t really say that. I was exaggerating to make a point.”

“I know.” And I love her for that.

Love?

All the blood drains out of my brain.

Of course notlove. Just like she said, I’m exaggerating in my mind to make a point.

But now that I’ve thought it, I can’t unthink it.

Am I starting to feel things for Camille?

My palms start to sweat as my brain bangs alarm bells. I pick up my fork, clearing my throat as I try to refocus on lunch. “This linguine is exquisite.”

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