Page 141 of Holidating
Nicolette’s smile brightens again, because it’s Cam after all. But now she has a problem. She’s not very interested in clubbing and probably can’t fake it. She’ll fall asleep in a corner somewhere and demonstrate once and for all that she’s not a fun person. “That sounds wild. But Cici and I were going to head back to your parents’ place. It’s our last chance to hang out together before I go back to Vermont.”
Cam doesn’t look offended, because why would he? He’s hot and rich, and the monied twenty-something women of New York fall at his feet.
He does, however, look thoughtful. He tilts his perfect face before he speaks again. “You realize, Nicky, that you don’t reallyhaveto go back to Vermont, right? You could just stay uptown with us for another week. I know you aren’t a fan of your father’s new wife.”
For a moment, Nicolette is too stunned to speak. This observation is far more startling than the offer of a brownie or the invitation to tag along to a club. Until tonight, he’d never shown any sign of paying attention to anything she’d ever said.
“Thank you. But I have to go home,” she says. “Because if I don’t…”
On second thought, she doesn’t actually want to verbalize the rest.
“If you don’t?” he prompts.
“Then she wins. Then Veronica pushes me out of my own house.” And that isn’t even the worst of it. If she doesn’t go home, she’s also ceding her father—what little part of himself he bothers to share with her—entirely to his new wife and stepkids.
Cam nods, his expression grave. “Yeah, okay. Can’t let the bitch win. I approve.”
Again, Nicolette’s smile is automatic. But it’s a little thin.
“Maybe another time?” Cam adds, and then his perfect eyebrows do a flirty thing that she’s seen him do before—just never aimed at her. “A bunch of us were thinking of going to St. Barts for spring break.”
“Thatdoessound fun,” she says, although spring break feels a million years off.
“If you come, I’ll make sure that it is,” he says. “Want another brownie?”
Stunned again, Nicolette shakes her head. He gives her another flirty smile and then finally moves on to talk to another girl in an even shorter dress. The whole interaction had lasted maybe three minutes. Five, tops.
Still, it’s odd. She shakes herself. And then she pulls out her phone again to check the screen, which is still dark.
“What did my brother want?” Cici asks, sneaking up on her.
Nicolette looks up, startled. “They’re going to some club. He invited us, but I told him we were going to chill together instead.”
Cici’s gaze travels over to her brother and then back again. “Interesting.”
“Which part?”
“All of it? For starters, Cam remembered we exist. And then you actually turned him down?” She lets out a throaty laugh.
Nicolette feels a flush climbing her cheeks. “It’s been years since I mooned after Cam,” she says, because denying that she ever has wouldn’t be very credible.
“I know, and thank God. But he probably took one look at you decked out in that dress—” Cici waves a hand at the Marc Jacobs minidress on Nicolette. “And he said to himself, ‘Wait, isn’t that Cici’s friend? She used to be invisible, but now she’s got long legs and tits! I’d better hit that.’”
Nicolette gives a sniff. “He’s just making the rounds. And there’s no way I’m going clubbing. My feet are already killing me.”
Cici shakes out her golden curls. “You don’t have to convince me. Just prepare yourself to fend him off again next time. The fact that you actually turned him down means he’ll be back. Cam can’t stand to hear ‘no.’”
Nicolette just shrugs, because she has trouble believing that Cam is capable of insecurities. And also because she’s busy pulling out her phone again for another glance at the screen.
“Hold on,” Cici says, her voice rising with delight. “Nicolette Chelsea Overland, why do you keep checking your phone? Are you waiting to hear from aguy? Do you have a boyfriend, and you forgot to tell me?”
“God no. I wish.”
“Then why do you keep staring at that screen? I’ve seen you do that all night.”
“Sorry.” Again, a denial would probably not be very credible. “I’ve just been trying to reach the driver in Vermont. The one who always picks me up from the airport.”
“Ohhh,” she says with a sigh. “The dreamy one? Damien? You told me all about him. Last summer when we drank all that schnapps on the boat.”
