Camila's POV
"This is not Pretty Woman. I am not Richard Gere and you aren't Julia Roberts," she groans when I drag her into a coffee shop.
I can't help but laugh. I've been comparing us to the movie and trying to irritate the shit out of her by my incessant babbling. It's working, sort of. She seems more amused than annoyed though.
"Coffee is the workaholic's heroin," I tell her knowingly as we stand in line.
She raises a brow as if to inquire how I know about anything other than being a skanky ho. I shrug my shoulders. "I wasn't a whore my whole life, Ms. Jauregui."
Her answering smirk is endearing and I sigh. It's been fun letting Dubois cart us around to all the shops in Seattle today. I spent three hours in Target alone, much to Lauren's horror, and bought every pair of yoga pants they had in my size.
"What were you then?"
"I'll have a Grande Café Mocha with extra cream. And the big girl here'll have something tall and dark. Stir in a little evil while you're at it," I tell the barista, careful to evade her question. The blonde at the register scrunches her nose in confusion.
Lauren huffs. "A Grande Drip. Black."
"Like her soul," I add in.
She pinches my butt and I laugh. The girl rings us up but refuses to make eye contact. Once we have our coffees in hand and are seated by the window that overlooks the rainy Puget Sound, Lauren clears her throat.
"Bunny, what did you do? Before. Before prostitution and before the souvenir shop?"
I drag my gaze from the water and regard her with a frown. "Stuff. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm just a whore now." My words are bitter and I have to look away from her beautiful face. We were having fun and now things have taken a turn down Shitty Lane.
She reaches across and takes my hand. "Tell me."
Huffing, I meet her interested stare. "I managed an office at a law firm."
Shock crosses her features and then she scowls. "Are you educated?"
I swallow and nod my head. "Bachelor's in Business Law. I minored in Accounting."
We sit in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts while we drink our hot coffees. It warms me a little but my toes are still little popsicles. Heels weren't meant for shopping in Seattle in the fall.
"Jesus," she says with a groan and stands, striding over to a trash can to drop her empty cup. I can't help but admire her butt in her sexy jeans. The woman was a pig yesterday but I still wanted her. Today, she's so close to perfect that it's scary. My hopes are on a rollercoaster ride as I attempt to keep up with her ever-changing moods.
She stalks out of the shop and stands in the rain for a moment, running her hands through her hair. The woman is hot, no denying that. I just wish she wasn't so cold too.
I abandon my cup and hurry after her. She's climbing back into the car and slams the door shut before I reach her. I'm about to hop in after her when Dubois shakes his head at me from beside the car.
"What?" I hiss.
His face sours. "Whatever it is you think you're doing, you should stop."
I gape at him in confusion. "Stop what, Dubois?"
"You say and do things to make her weak. She may be my boss but she's also my friend," he clips out. "I won't allow you to hurt her."
Flipping him off, I snap at him. "You're blind if you think it's her who's getting hurt in all of this. Newsflash, it's me. And for some reason I seem to like it."
His gaze softens. "She's not as tough and put together as she outwardly displays. For some odd reason, you get inside of her like no other woman ever has. I hope that you don't abuse that power."
He opens the door and I huff as I get inside the car. His words irritate me. I'm not the one calling the shots around here. I'm not the one whipping people. I'm not the one controlling every single aspect of someone's life. So why is Dubois so pissed at me?
"Now what?" I question Lauren. Her frame is rigid as she stares out the window.
"I was going to buy you a computer and help you enroll in some college courses. That's part of what I do for my toys. But you . . ."
"I'm different."
She exhales loudly and glares at me. "The statement of the fucking year."
"You don't have to buy me a computer, Lau—" I start but quickly catch myself. "You don't have to buy me a computer, Ma'am. However, I could help you work if you want. It's kind of boring spending the day getting all dolled up. As much as I like gazing dreamily into Cartier's chocolate eyes, sometimes a girl has to give her hormones a break."
She growls and I laugh. "Bunny, he's gay."
Shrugging, I pat her knee. "I like to look at pretty things, what can I say. Don't get all jealous on me. I just said I'd rather spend my time with you than staring at the angel man."
Her chest puffs out a bit and I curl up against her side as Dubois merges into traffic. A shiver that has nothing to do with the frigid air courses through me when she wraps a heavy arm around me.
"At the next stop can I change? I'm freezing in these pants and shoes. I think my toes are going to fall off," I mutter against her chest.
She tenses but slides her palm up and down my back quickly as if to warm me up. "They won't let you into the restaurant I made reservations at if you're looking like a soccer mom."
My lips find her neck and I press a soft kiss there. "So take me somewhere I'll be accepted."
