Faking It | Wattys 2022

Chapter 8

Camila pushed around the potatoes on her plate, no longer in the mood to eat. Her mother gave her a concerned look but opted against saying anything about her grim behavior.

"Have you talked with our investors from Europe?"

"Yes," her answer was automatic and robotic-like.

"And I'm sure you've been searching for a lovely woman to accompany you to our charity ball?"

"You told me last month that you didn't want me there," Camila grumbled. "What's so different now?"

"You're next in line to continue our family's legacy, Karla. It's expected that you're at all future events from now on. Understood?"

"You look tired, mija. Are you sleeping?" Sinu jumped into the conversation. "I can have Michelle make you some of that herbal tea to take home. I heard it does wonders for insomnia."

"I'm fine, mom," Camila said dismissively. "Just a lot going on right now,"

Sinu sighed. "You don't look fine,"

"Are you calling me ugly?" Camila bantered playfully, enjoying the sound of her mother's laugh.

"Oh, quiet. You know what I meant, mija."

"Sinu, why don't you start getting ready for bed? I'll send Camila out."

She glared at her husband, shaking her head disapprovingly as she kissed the top of Camila's head and descended up the stairs.

Alejandro cleared his throat. "The ball is in two weeks, should I be concerned about you having a date?"

"I'll have one," Camila said hesitantly. "You'll like her,"

"I'm sure I will. Anyone would be better than that Vives woman."

"Are you going to keep bringing her up?"

"Only when I know you have learned your lesson," Alejandro finished up the rest of his whiskey. "You let her play you like a fool,"

Camila flared her nostrils. "I know that, dad. Yet here you are, pushing me to find another woman."

"Because the only time you actually had your life together was when you were dating that poor excuse of a woman, as much as that pains me to say."

"What's this year's theme?" She redirected the conversation in a different direction.

"The Great Gatsby," he answered. "Your mother came up with the idea after she wasn't able to put the book down."

"Old rich and new rich," the younger woman muttered under her breath. "Sounds about right,"

Alejandro set his fork down, got up from his chair, and led the way to the front door. "I know you're not the most ecstatic about this arrangement, Karla, but I promise it'll do you more good than harm. You're already coming to work more on time and less hungover. That's a start."

"Even when I was hungover I still got my shit done,"

"Yes, because everybody wants to talk to a CEO that's still intoxicated at eight o'clock in the morning. There's a lot of responsibilities that come with my job—it's not just posing for magazines and flying in private jets all over the world."

"Yet you do all of that, anyway," Camila buttoned up her coat. "I'll see you on Monday, goodnight," she left out of the house without saying another word to him.

The second she was out of their driveway and speeding down the I-90, panic overtook her when she realized there was no fucking way Lauren would agree to her terms within two weeks.