after this night (camren)

35. Camila

I have been for years.

......

"I've been thinking of new names for cocktails. Well, Troy and I have" Ally offered during a lull in the crowds on Monday night.

"Yeah? Do tell"

"We came up with a whole list of great names while you were out of town"

"Your hubs is uprising my spot as a partner-in-crime?" I asked, resting a hip along the bar as I wiped down glasses.

"Ha. Hardly. But he does like to name drinks. Here's what we've got. A shot called the Long, Hard night. A stiff drink called the One-Night Stand. And a variation on the lemon drop martini that we called Lemon Drop Your Panties" Ally said, and the edges of my lips lifted in a smile.

"Great names" I said, then looked away from Ally because all of them - every single one - reminded me of Lauren. She'd been my One-Night Stand, my Ling, Hard Night, and I'd dropped my panties countless times for her. Every time, she'd risen - no pun intended - to the challenge, stripping me down to the bare essentials of pleasure and desire, and somehow all that desire had morphed into so much more.

into a mad and passionate love. The kind of love that thundered down the road with wild hoofbeats after midnight. Desperate, reckless, and headfirst.

That was the problem. I needed to pull back and analyse. To think. To consider, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Fire away"

"Has Troy ever lied to you about something because he thought it was for the best?"

Ally shot me a quizzical look, "Well, how would I know?"

"I mean something he eventually fessed up to" I added.

"Ah, gotcha" Ally said, scrunching up her forehead as she considered the question. Then she thrust her finger in the air, "Yes! He used to tell me he loved my pot roast when we were first dating, and it turned out he really thought it was dry and stringy"

I laughed, "Tell the truth, Ally. Is your pot roast dry and stringy?"

Ally threw her head back and chuckled, "Evidently, I make the worst pot roast in the entire universe. It's that bad. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Now if he ever bugs me by leaving his dirty socks on the floor, or failing to put the toilet seat down, I just threaten him with my pot roast. Keeps that man in line" she said, straightening her spine like a drill sergeant issuing orders.

A pair of young men in suits sidled up to the bar and Ally turned her attention to them. My mind stayed put on Ally's story and how it had a happy ending. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? A happy ending? But was a pot roast fib the same as an omission of the truth?"

I didn't know and wasn't sure how to arrive at an answer. My brain had grown cloudier in the last twenty-four hours, fuzzier with the distance. Had I overreacted? Been too quick to anger? I was a hot-tempered woman. I knew that about myself. But I valued independence more than anything. Even more than love. If I were to give up my independence - my job, my bar, my home, my sister, even my hairdresser - I had to know with the same clarity I had about how to make a kick-ass cocktail that uprooting my whole damn life - like I was picking up a carpet and shaking everything off it, come what may - was as right as could be.

Come what may.

That was the real risk, wasn't it? Charging headfirst into the great unknown. Throwing away the self-protective armour I'd built since Shawn's betrayal, and shedding all my fiery independence for a chance that could flame out and fade away. Living in close quarters could turn the two of us - two strong-willed, stubborn, controlling women - into a collision for disaster.

Or we could become better together, come what may.

"Hey Ally" I called out as my co-worker deposited the drinks to the customers, "I just thought of another name for a drink. Come What May"

"What's in it?"

"Something risky. Something that makes you want to take a chance. What do you think?"

"I think we need to break out our beakers and start mixing" Ally said, bumping her hip against mine.

"Ouch, I think you whacked me with your gigantic belly"

"It's a weapon of mass destruction. Beware" Ally said, rubbing her hands over the beach ball-sized stomach as she reached for spirits to test, "Let's start with -"

But Ally's suggestion was cut short by the clearing of a throat. I swivelled around to the bar and spotted a familiar face. I couldn't connect a name to the man, or why I knew him, but the older, dapper gentleman was giving me a serious case of déjà vu, and I hoped he'd alleviate it soon.

"Good evening. I was hoping to find Camila Cabello" he said, and that didn't help me one bit. In fact, all my instincts told me that he was working for Austin, or looking for Shawn, or somehow that I was going to be in a heap of trouble again. A fleet of nerves launched inside me, and I could feel the inklings of flight or fight kick in.

"That's me" I answered, calling on my best tough-chick-behind-the-saloon-bar persona.

"We met briefly before" he began, and something about his classy voice tickled my memory. He wasn't one of Austin's men after all. Austin's men were rougher around the edges. This man was proper and finished, like a gentlemanly professor, "And you made me the most fantastic drink I've ever had"

My lips curved up, a smile threatening to break across my face, "Was it my Purple Snow Globe?"

"Indeed it was" He extended a hand to shake, "I'm Glen Mills, and my magazine had been running a search for the best cocktail ever"

I took his hand, "And I trust you found that cocktail here at Cubic Z?"

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i missed thursdays chapter... again ]: im gonna try and update again tomorrow but definitely no promises

also, i just wanna make a note for a few of the following chapters.... if the chapter is titled lauren and the days continue so for example chapter starts on a tuesday and ends on a friday, that does not mean in camilas chapters it is also now friday. if the last camila chapter ended on one day (e.g tonight monday) it will continue from that day/night on her next chapter