Calamity

Chapter 5

"I feel like my brain cells are decaying by the second,"

Camila looked up from the stack of papers in her lap, her glasses falling down the bridge of her nose. "Come on, a little bit more and we'll be done for the night. We just need to go over his testimonies and see if we can find anything else."

Lauren laid back flat on the couch, huffing. "Who does your mom work for now?"

"Some billionaire asshole who doesn't know how to ask for things properly," Camila answered dryly. "Why are you asking?"

"Nothing, I just...Was wondering—"

"How I afford this place?"

Lauren swallowed thickly. "I didn't want it to come off like that, but I split rent with Ally and still cough up a hefty chunk every month."

"I had a few odd jobs in New York City when I was there for undergrad,"

"Odd jobs like..?"

"You're going to laugh in my face if I tell you," Camila took off her glasses and placed them down on the coffee table. "And I don't need you to be judging me,"

"Stop acting as if I'm a horrible human being. I'm the last person to be judging anyone."

Camila hummed in contemplation before deciding to go against her gut. "Escorting,"

Lauren shot up from her seat on the couch, choking on her own saliva as she stared at Camila with wide eyes. "You're fucking with me,"

"You'd be surprised at how many women are deprived of an orgasm. Rich women at that. Besides, not all of them wanted sex. Some of them just needed somebody to listen."

"So, you went into escorting for money?" Lauren was still in disbelief.

A muscle in Camila's jaw twitched. "Is that a problem, Lauren?"

"N-No! I just—"

"You expected me to sit around with my dick in my hands because you weren't around?" Her facial expression morphed into an amused one. "That wasn't going to happen, sweetheart,"

"That's not what I meant," Lauren grumbled, her cheeks a bright red. "And you know that,"

Camila held her hands up. "No worries, I didn't take any offense to anything you said. I actually think it'd be a crime against humanity for me to keep my talents to myself."

"For the love of God, please just shut up. Are we done for the night or what?" Lauren gestured to all of the papers scattered everywhere.

"Yeah," she chugged the last of her wine. "We can pick up here tomorrow,"

"I'm actually busy tomorrow," Lauren zipped up her backpack once she put all her belongings away. "Can we do Saturday?"

"Nope," the dark-haired woman shut down her suggestion faster than she could blink. "Saturday night is the bonfire and I have plans to attend."

"Sunday night then, asshole," Lauren rolled her eyes. "I'll come over later in the day and we can do a little bit of work."

"I feed you, give you some of my best wine, and this is how you treat me?"

"Next time, the food's on me," the raven-haired woman swung her bag over her shoulder. "Deal?"

"Alright, Jauregui, you got yourself a deal,"

-

She had every reason to be nervous. Her father never called her. Ever. So, naturally, when she saw his caller ID pop up while getting ready for the bonfire—she knew she was in for a shit show.