Emily: To be fair, she’s probably getting the D.
Luna: Meditative sexual experiences can be very cleansing and good for stress. Cam, I have a book you can borrow if you want it.
Daisy: Speaking of the D, I need to know if Jude is proportionate. Because if he is, Cam’s a lucky bitch.
Me: I’m a lucky bitch.
I grinned while the three of them sent me a series of emojis—shock face, happy face, and heart eyes, interspersed with eggplants.
Me: Serious note. Derek and my PR team are on it. I’m pissed but we’ll handle it. Not sure about drinking in the dick pool tonight. I’ll get back to you. Love you guys.
Jude pushed my office door open. He’d been somewhat on the sidelines today. There wasn’t a lot he could do against this kind of attack. But his presence here had made such a difference. Knowing he was nearby had kept me from completely losing my mind.
“Hey,” he said.
That little smile of his made me feel melty inside. “Hey.”
“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked. “Let me take you out. Get your mind off everything. It’ll still be here in the morning.”
“Like a date?” I asked.
“Exactly like a date. In fact, I was thinking an actual date.”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you seem surprised?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re not really following the pattern. You already moved in.”
“Extenuating circumstances. And it doesn’t mean I’m skipping the part where I date you, Cameron.”
Those heart eyes emojis danced in front of my face. “I’d love to. Where are we going? Do I need to change?”
“No. It’s a little hole in the wall not far from my place. But trust me, the food’s amazing.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I sent my friends a quick text telling them I had a date. They replied with more emojis. I really loved those weirdos.
We left the mostly empty office and Jude drove us to a little restaurant housed in a building with chipping paint and a pink flamingo painted on the outside wall.
Inside the restaurant looked worn, but in a way that made it look well-loved rather than neglected. Rectangular tables were surrounded by mismatched painted wood chairs, and an eclectic mix of colorful art decorated the walls. Several of the tables had small groups enjoying their meals and a few servers bustled around the dining room.
We seated ourselves and a server brought us menus.
“Their specialty is seafood,” Jude said. “But I’ve never had anything here that isn’t amazing.”
I browsed the menu, but everything sounded good. I felt a little sheepish for how long it had been since I’d been to a little family-run restaurant like this. Usually my meals out were for business. This was the kind of neighborhood favorite that reminded me of a place my grandparents had taken me as a kid. We hadn’t eaten out often, so when we had, it had been a treat.
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“I always get the ceviche.”
I closed my menu. “Sounds good to me.”
The server came back and took our orders. I asked for a glass of Salishan Cellars white wine and she brought it a few minutes later.
I leaned back in my chair and took a sip. My shoulders were knotted with tension, but for the first time today, I felt myself begin to relax.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I’m all right. I think. Today was a shit show.”
“It was. But Derek is the best at what he does.”
I nodded and set my glass down. “In the long run, this will probably be fine. It’s just hard to remember that when you’re in the thick of a crisis.”
Something crossed his expression so fast, I almost didn’t see it. Was it sadness? It was hard to be sure.
“This is perfect, though,” I continued. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out of the office.”
“A good meal always helps. Oh, this was supposed to be a surprise, but Nicholas texted me something earlier.” He held up his phone. Two perfectly beautiful key lime tarts sitting on my kitchen counter.
“That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
Our food came out remarkably fast—the ceviche was indeed delicious—and Jude and I fell into easy conversation. We didn’t talk about anything serious. Not the media shitstorm. Not Noelle or Aldrich or corporate espionage or whether we were going to find something creepy on my bed again.