Page 100 of Everything Has Changed
She tries to wave me off, but I continue. “I’m serious, Pipes. You’ve been working every day lately, which I am incredibly thankful for, but you need some you time.”
“You know that alone time usually gives me hives. Just means too much time to think. I’m better off staying busy.”
“At least try, for me? If you feel the need to do something, text me. We can have a decoration date. At least you will be outside a little if you do that.”
She blows me a kiss as she takes a few steps toward her mom’s salon a couple blocks over. “You know I’ll be here. Love ya!”
“Love you too!” I shout at her and silently thank the universe for granting me the best friend I could ever ask for.
35
Logan
Fifteen minutes late. I would laugh at the irony of my father being tardy after all the years he spent beating into my head how rude it was if I didn’t think it was part of a setup.
I should be with Gwen right now, helping set up the booths and making sure she is okay. It’s been a few days since she found out about Ophelia’s diagnosis and she’s been fully focused on the festival. Also the shop, where she has picked up more of the backing duties and shifts to allow Ophelia more time to rest, despite her grandmother arguing that she was fine. Gwen wouldn’t hear of it. She wouldn’t talk about it much either, but I was sticking by her for the long haul and wasn’t going to push her if she wasn’t ready.
The grief support blogs I’ve been reading say this is a marathon, not a sprint, and I need to allow her time to process while she has the freedom to do so.
I check the shipping on the decorations I ordered from her binder with Piper’s assistance to make sure it was all exactly what she wanted. It should have all delivered and I was itching to get to her side to see her reaction.
Camila sighs while scanning the menu in her hands, rudely removing me from my thoughts of Gwen, though she is never far from my mind.
“Logan, you know he will be here eventually. Why don’t we just go ahead and order some drinks? They have a wonderful wine list that would pair beautifully with lunch. Shall we share a bottle?”
I roll my eyes, not bothering to even remove my eyes from the phone in my hands. “It’s the middle of the work day on a Wednesday. No, I don’t want to share a bottle of wine with you.”
“Well, then can we at least take this time to talk? It’s the perfect opportunity. No one is here to interrupt.” She reaches over the table, placing her hand over my phone screen. Slowly, I lift my eyes to meet hers, just to instantly regret it when her lips curl up like she just won.
“Remove your hand from me, please,” I grit out. Trying to keep my voice level and low so she knows I don’t mean it in any cute way. She was always good about twisting my words. Always, to the point that I would give up even trying to correct her about anything. It was never worth the hassle if I tried to play nice just for her to hook her claws into it and drag it out to death.
I hold her gaze, finding a small glimmer of joy when I watch her faux-playful look drain from her eyes. Her features almost melt away from the sickly sweet expression she uses to lure her victims into a false sense of security. She should know better than to try it on me after all this time. After everything she put me through and wants to put me through in the future.
Her eyes narrow and her lips purse as she slowly drags her hand away from me. I pull my phone back from her grasp, not willing to give her the chance to try to go through it. Not that she could unlock it, but I won’t give her the opportunity.
I drag my hand over my face, weighing if I can get out of this lunch meeting that I was informed was important. Another longing glance at the door and, for the first time ever, I will my father to walk through the front door right now. But clearly luck isn’t on my side and obviously I’m paying for some mistake I’ve made in the past that brought me to lunch with my ex-girlfriend. The same ex that is working hand in hand with my father to turn our small town into a resort for the upperclass.
I glance at my phone again. Twenty minutes and still counting, only now I can feel her eyes lingering on me like a poison being poured over my skin. Pleasing my father and his demands to stay in his good graces no matter what my motives are isn’t worth this.
Unless I can use this to my advantage.
I swear a lightbulb physically goes off over my head as an idea forms. One I’m not thrilled to put into practice, but it could work.
“Actually,” I begin. Locking my fingers together and placing them in front of me on the table. “You’re right.” The words taste like venom on my tongue. Especially when I catch the twinkle in her eye telling me she thinks whatever fake persona she did worked on me.
“I do love those words coming from your mouth,” she purrs. “But what exactly am I right about so I can celebrate properly?”
I clench my jaw. “You said we should talk. Alright, let’s talk. I guess we do have a few things to catch up on.”
Camila perks up. Her shoulders go back as her back straightens. “Where should we start first?”
How about how my father is a greedy motherfucker?
I wave my hand between us. “Ladies first.”
“Well, for starters, can I just say how happy it makes me that you are finally back where you belong.” She looks at me expectantly, but thenquickly realizes I’m not reciprocating her excitement and continues on. “I have missed you so much, Logan. I miss us.”
I scoff. “I think we already have been over whose fault that is.”
