billion dollar woman || nanowrimo 2k18

seven

Camila wakes after pleasant dreams, and she rolls to face the side of her bed Alfie occupied most of yesterday. She smiles to herself, thinking she's finally happy. She stands and grabs her robe on the back of her door. She takes quiet steps to the floor below hers, tiptoeing past Franco's room because even though he sleeps about fourteen hours a night, her twin is the lightest sleeper she's ever known.

She reaches the far guest bedroom that Alfie uses whenever he stays the night, and she opens it slightly, knocking lightly on the wood so not to startle him. He stirs under the comforter, still laying on his stomach and not jolting awake like he usually would because he knows who it is by the weight shift on the bed.

Camila kisses her bodyguard's cheek, and he smiles sleepily under her touch. She's now laying full atop him when she whispers, "Are you awake?"

He hums, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it. "I am now. Good morning," he says as he rolls slowly, keeping her above him. "What are you doing in here, love? You could get caught."

Camila runs her fingertips along the bare skin at his shoulders, shaking her head. "I locked the door. But breakfast is probably ready, so we should head down there soon."

"Oh? And just how soon is soon?" Alfie asks with a side smile. Camila shrugs with a grin on her face, telling him there's no rush at all.

Nearly half an hour later, they're standing by the guest bedroom door, Alfie now fully dressed in yesterday's suit, and Camila back in her pyjamas and silk robe. Alfie leans down to kiss the woman once more before they head out to the rest of the home and step back into their professional relationship.

"I really like you," Camila says with a sigh as she leans her head against Alfie's chest.

He wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "And I, you, Cami." She doesn't pull away for a few more moments, so Alfie rubs her back softly, asking, "Are you alright?"

She nods as she finally lets him go, saying, "I don't want to deal with everything outside of the two of us. I like what we have right now, and yesterday was so important to me--"

"Hey," he says softly to cut off what was bound to be lots of rambling. "Yesterday was important to me, too. You don't have to worry. We'll have loads of days like that."

"We will?" she asks, already calming at his rationality. He nods and kisses her cheek. "Ready to only be my bodyguard again?"

Alfie shakes his head with a small smile, saying, "I don't think I was ever /only/ your bodyguard, Miss Camila."

The heiress scoffs and pats the man's chest with the back of her hand before she opens the bedroom door—which is when she runs right into Franco.

"Hey, Cam," he grins at her, toothbrush in hand. "Thought I heard voices. Alfred," he greets with a small salute as the taller man walks out behind Camila.

"Mr. Franco," Alfie nods back. He turns to Cami, saying in his ever-so-professional voice, "I'll have to skip breakfast, but thank you for the offer. Please call if you need a ride, Miss Camila." She nods soundlessly, almost upset he's leaving already.

Franco watches Alfie walk down the stairs then he faces Camila with a knowing smirk. "What were you two doing in there?" he asks, nodding to the door behind his sister.

Camila swallows, feeling her face redden while she tries to keep a straight face. "I was inviting him to breakfast."

"Behind a closed door?" Franco asks with a face that all but accuses her of lying while he points his toothbrush at her.

She tries to change the subject with: "What are you doing here? Mom didn't kick you out?"

Franco laughs, having already forgotten about the earlier bit of their conversation as he says, "No. But my yacht privileges have been revoked for the fourth time."

Camila shakes her head at her brother, having him follow her downstairs after he returns his toothbrush. They hear voices in the dining room, finding their mother, sister, and Olivia.

"Olivia, could you find out what the rest of the help would like as a Christmas present? And do try to keep it under fifty euros each," Carolina says before returning to her pancakes.

There's a pause, then Olivia says, "Yes, Mrs. Fuentes." Carolina doesn't see Olivia's jaw clench as she answers, but Camila does, and she sends an apologetic smile the maid's way. Olivia's had to put up with Carolina's condescending tone for the last four years.

"You're excused," Carolina says without looking up from her plate.

"Yikes," Franco mutters as he takes a seat beside Amalia, kissing the girl's temple in greeting as he does.

Carolina doesn't say anything to Franco, she looks straight to the brunette standing in the doorway. "Camila, honey, I saw that Alfred spent the night."

She clears her throat as she sits, Olivia coming into the room with plates of pancakes for older Fuentes twins. Camila thanks Olivia quietly before she answers her mother. "Yeah, I dragged him out late last night, so I let him crash."

The older woman purses her lips with a raised eyebrow before she decided to let it go. "Alright, dear. Don't allow it to become a habit."

Camila's brows furrow, looking to her siblings whose eyes are pointedly staring down at their plates, almost wishing they could be anywhere but here. Carolina and Camila's fights could get worse than with Franco sometimes. "That's what the spare rooms are meant for. You never say anything about Lia's driver."

"Amalia is gay, sweetheart."

Franco's fork scraps against his plate as he nearly drops it. Amalia's eyes widen, looking between her sister and her mother. Carolina looks straight at her eldest daughter, not wavering or finding anything wrong with what's she's said.

Camila takes a slow breath in before she asks evenly, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Carolina's jaw nearly drops as before scolds. "Watch your tone. I wonder if we should relieve Mr. Zhao of his services if he's becoming such a bad influence," she says, with a barely audible English accent.

Camila scoffs, anger boiling. "Why are you talking like that?" she accuses.

"Excuse me?" Carolina's acting like she's just heard the worst insult.

"We're from Canada!" Camila exclaims. "A small town where we barely made ends meet every week, six people living in a three-bedroom house, always in each other's way, and now you're acting like we were born with this—with this giant house where we never see each other and the most contact I have with people is the 'help' as you so condescending call them. Guess what, Mom?! We used to have nothing! Just like them! Stop looking down on them for not having the luck we did to win the lottery."

She slams her napkin down on the large dining room table, storming off up the stairs. Carolina doesn't move. The other kids haven't seen their mother this angry in a long time. Amalia doesn't know what to do. Franco, of course, makes the first move.

He clears his throat, setting down his fork. "Lia, can you pass the syrup?"

•••

so i know i haven't written anything in a week, but here's a chapter :) oh also, i'm guessing i'm only going to have four (possibly five) more chapters. this isn't a really long book but i like it so far and i hope you all do too. let me know if i'm doing anything shittily or if there's anything i should add, i'd really appreciate it!