The Black Moon

Chapter 2

Camila stood at one of her four closets, chewing on a lower lip. Casual, casual, casual... She wasn't entirely familiar with that turn of phrase in any aspect of her life, and certainly not in her wardrobe. She was about to give up when she spotted something in the corner of the closet, something blue, tucked away on a shelf. Crawling under the hanging suits and skirts, she found a pair of blue jeans.

Tugging them out, Camila stared in wonder. "Where the hell did these come from?" she wondered aloud. Walking back into the bedroom, she wiggled out of her silk lounge pants and slid the jeans on. Turning this way and that, she decided it would have to do, even though she felt like a complete slacker in them. Blue jeans had never, ever been allowed in her childhood, nor that of her young adult life. Even in college, she'd never worn them.

Her next thought was who the hell gets up and starts their day at four-thirty in the morning? Unless she's coming after work. No, Camila didn't feel that was right. She wondered what Pearl was up to.

Freshly showered and dressed in the jeans and a black button-down shirt, Camila grabbed one of her many leather jackets and trotted down the winding staircase. The Grandfather clock in the entryway announced the hour of four. Camila was surprised that she was not only up but very much awake. But then, the sleeping pill she'd taken last night had knocked her out by eight p.m., and she'd slept solidly until her alarm woke her at three.

It was strange being awake in the morning hours before the staff rose and began their daily duties. Arnold would be on the floor within two hours, and Camila's long-time cook, Hilda, would be along by six-thirty.

After what seemed forever, Camila heard a car pull up outside the house, and a glance at the clock told her Pearl was exactly on time. She tugged her jacket on and headed out into the harsh November morning.

Pearl's car was a mid-sized Nissan, and, to Camila's eternal intrigue, the entire back seat was filled with bound bundles of newspapers.

"Good morning," she said, slipping into the passenger seat. A steaming cup of Starbucks coffee was thrust into her hands.

"Hi."

Camila was shocked at what sat before her. Pearl's hair was pulled back into a casual ponytail. She didn't wear a bit of makeup. She wore well-worn jeans and a sweatshirt, which was a bit big, the sleeves rolled to expose her hands, which rested on the steering wheel. She looked like a college co-ed rather than the beautiful, sleek woman Camila was used to.

"Okay, here's the deal," the raven-haired said. "You are to call me Lauren today."

Camila's brows rose. "A new name? Is Lauren your name on casual days, or something?"

The raven-haired chuckled. "Nope. Lauren is the name I was given at birth."

"So why-"

"Because I'm not working today, Camila," Lauren said softly. "Today I just want to be me."

Camila met her gaze and gave the beautiful raven-haired a soft smile. "I'd like that... Lauren. I'd like that very much."

Lauren grinned, her eyes twinkling as she put the car in gear and they headed out of the circular drive. "Okay, now, I imagine you're wondering what all this is back there," she said, gesturing toward the backseat with her thumb as she easily maneuvered the car out of Camila's neighborhood. "This is what I do on the mornings of my days off."

"Drive around with newspaper bundles in your car?" Camila asked, confused. The light laugh that comment got warmed her far more than the latte she was sipping.

"No. I throw a paper route. Normally I'd take all the bundles back to my place and roll them, then get on my way, but today," she reached over and slapped Camila's thigh. "I have help."