Faking It | Wattys 2022

Chapter 23

"Concrete jungle wet dream tomato," Lauren repeated herself. "That's what she says!"

"Concrete jungle where dreams are made of," Camila corrected the older woman, laughing. "If you look up the lyrics right now, you're going to see that you're wrong."

"I think you just hate seeing me be right," she said once they got out of the car and stood in front of a large brownstone that was closed off by a gate. "Wow,"

"Like it?" Camila unlocked the gate and then the front door so that they could have their bags brought inside.

"How long have you had this place?" Lauren carefully took off her shoes by the front door, leaving them on the empty shoe rack before walking into the kitchen first.

"About four years," the dark-haired woman answered. "I bought it after my first big girl paycheck came in,"

"I would never want to leave this place if it were mine," Lauren said dreamily, running her hands across the cool marble countertop.

"Maybe we should both quit our jobs and hole up in here,"

"Sounds like you're trying to be a bad influence on me,"

Camila's mouth stretched into a full smile. "I think it's the other way around, princess,"

"How much longer do we have until the expo?" Lauren sat down on the plush couch, admiring the beautiful frames of artwork hanging above the fireplace. "A few hours?"

"Two-ish. But it probably won't be done until late in the afternoon since they're doing everything in one day instead of three."

"Right," Lauren hummed in acknowledgment. "So, what do I do? Stand there by your side and look pretty?"

"I'm sure you could find something else to do besides listening to a bunch of men have a pissing contest," Camila grabbed herself a bottle of water. "But... I would like to take you to dinner before we leave."

"If you don't want me there then I won't intrude," Lauren said. "I just thought it'd be nice for me to come since you came to my stupid event a few weeks ago,"

"It wasn't stupid—you were being recognized for your hard work and dedication as a professor. Besides, I showed up late to it, anyway. It doesn't count."

Lauren leaned back against the sofa. "So, can I tag along then? I promise I'll play nice."

"Sure, only on one condition," Camila wiggled her pointer finger around in the air. "I have this one annoying investor that won't get down from his high horse. His name's Louis Tomlinson and he always brings his know-it-all wife to these things."

"And you want me to knock them down a peg or two?" The raven-haired professor raised a brow in surprise.

"She might shit herself when she hears about your Ph.D.,"

Lauren seemed amused by the whole idea, but nonetheless, agreed. "Alright then, Camz. Consider your wish granted."

-

"Here you go," Lauren held out another glass of champagne towards the younger woman.

Slender fingers brushed against hers as she took the glass.

"Thank you, baby," Camila kissed the corner of her mouth for the tenth time that night. "Going well so far," she said more quietly.

"She disappeared to the bathroom before I could even talk about how fun grad school was," Lauren laughed—a sound that made Camila's heart flutter with joy. "I haven't seen her husband yet, though. He's here, right?"