For Your Eyes Only (Camren)

Twelve

"You need to get laid."

"I beg your pardon?" Lauren said later that night as Normani handed her a wonton.

"You heard me. Unless your hearing's been affected by your lack of sex."

"I don't think one has anything to do with the other," Lauren said, exasperated.

"Sex has everything to do with everything," Normani shot back. "Good sex sharpens your focus, relaxes you, and puts a glow on your face. Great sex," Normani paused for effect, "great sex makes the day brighter, the air cleaner, and people not as annoying. And you, my friend," she used her glass of chardonnay as a pointer, "you are dull and lifeless."

"Gee, thanks. With a friend like you it's no wonder I haven't put a bullet in my head already." Lauren didn't need this shit from her BFF. She knew how long it had been. She didn't need reminding and she was irritated that Normani had brought it up.

Normani signaled the waiter to refill her glass. "You know I love you and I only want the best for you. I want to see you smile and look at someone with that look that says, I can't wait to get you somewhere private. When was the last time you had a simple, fast and furious fuck?"

Beer spewed out of Lauren's mouth. She started coughing, not knowing how she'd managed to inhale some of the liquid at the same time.

"Whoa there, girl," Normani said, patting Lauren on the back like a toddler. "You okay?"

Lauren nodded as she wiped the beer off her chin and the tears from her eyes. "Jesus, you trying to kill me or something?" She coughed a few more times and blew her nose on the bar napkin.

"Of course not, just asking. A good fuck goes a long way—"

Lauren interrupted, not sure how much more of this topic her body could bear. "I appreciate your concern but it's really none of your business."

"That long, huh?"

Lauren coughed again, throwing Normani a dagger look, signaling it was the end of that discussion. Unfortunately, Normani missed the message.

"Seriously. When was the last time you got laid?" Normani frowned in concentration, her brows crinkling like a shar-pei. The look was not flattering.

"What is your point?" Lauren asked instead. She knew she didn't want to know the answer to the question, but the sooner Normani said her piece, the sooner she'd shut the fuck up.

"My point is that you need to get out more, and I don't mean on a Wednesday night with me or your basketball games. You play with a bunch of guys. You'll never get laid that way. You need to meet someone, go on a few dates, feel that tingle of desire in your gut."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm doing just fine."

"But fine isn't a way to live."

Lauren held up her hand before Normani could say anything equally obvious. "It is for me," she said, careful to keep her voice bland, yet firm.

It was the truth. She did like her uncomplicated life. It suited her, and she certainly couldn't have become as successful as she was if she'd had the conflicting priorities of a girlfriend. She had her short-term trysts now and then. They suited her and fit her personal and professional goals. As she climbed the corporate ladder she'd seen the plusses and minuses of a good spouse. One thing she'd never seen was a same-sex one. All her colleagues were married, not that they didn't have a little something on the side—or a kinky side, for that matter. But they'd kept it tightly locked in the closet, so to speak. Image and reputation, as well as competence, were critical in her world.

"You and I live in very different worlds. You're an artist, it's expected that you be flamboyant and a little wild and crazy. I'm a CFO, for God's sake. We're expected to be serious, thoughtful, and stable." God, even to her it sounded boring as hell.

"Okay, I get that nine to five, but what about five to nine?"

"My job is never nine to five, or even nine to nine." Normani had her own studio and worked whenever the spirit moved her. Lauren couldn't remember the last time the spirit even came knocking on her door. Karla's face flashed in front of her and her spirit did more than knock.

"I've got to go." Lauren gathered her phone and bag. "Since you insisted we talk about my sex life, you can pay." She kissed Normani on the cheek and waved goodbye as she walked away.

* * *

Lauren had almost canceled her monthly lunch with the new hires, but she refused to let the fact that Camila was going to be in attendance bother her. She was a seasoned, successful executive and she'd dealt with more difficult situations before. This was business, after all, and she didn't think Camila was interested in being outed any more than she was. Six people were standing around the table when she walked in at little before noon.

"Good morning." She glanced at her watch. "Or at least it is for another few minutes."

She went around the table, greeting each employee by name. She'd spent most of last night reading the bios of the four men and two women in the room. Knowing she wouldn't be able to concentrate afterward, she saved Camila's for last. She could recite it by memory.

Camila Cabello, age twenty-four, graduated last month from City University with a 3.25 grade point average. She had several letters of recommendation from her professors, each stating that Camila was a hard worker, inquisitive, and sharp. Her background check was clean with only a few parking tickets, all of which had been promptly paid. Lauren wondered if she got any of them where she'd been dancing. Her credit score was 783 and her bank accounts had no red flags. Some thought Allied's background checks were intrusive, but any employee who had access to financial data and systems necessitated a closer look.She hesitated a few seconds, preparing herself before she acknowledged Camila.

"Camila, good to see you again. Is Shawn taking good care of you?"

"Yes, he is, thanks."

Camila was wearing pressed chinos and a short-sleeved blue patterned button-down shirt. Lauren had to stop herself from imagining her slowly opening each one.

"Good. I liked the way you spoke up in the budget meeting yesterday," Lauren said, much to Camila's surprise. "We need more of that."

"Thank you." Camila was obviously unaware Lauren had even been at the meeting.

After they picked up their lunches catered from the local deli, Lauren spent an hour with the group answering questions and asking more than a few of her own. She found out that Camila had a little sister, loved to sing, and played the piano. Lauren couldn't stop herself from looking at Camila's fingers after that discovery. Lauren choked on her pickle when Camila said that dancing was her primary form of exercise. She dared not look at Camila as she pulled herself together.

Camila had a heart-stopping smile and a laugh that took her breath away. She talked with her hands when she was excited about something and sat quietly when others spoke. She had good eye contact and wasn't shy in front of those who were senior to her.

Lauren was surprised when Camila turned the questions around to her. No one had ever asked her anything personal during these lunches, probably thinking it was none of their business.

"Well, unlike Camila , I have one brother and one sister. My passion is softball and I play twice a week and every Saturday." Her blood started to heat up as Camila's eyes moved over her body. It seemed like forever and the blink of an eye before Alexa came in and started gathering everything up. It was her signal for Lauren to wrap it up.

Lauren thanked everyone for coming, and her excitement grew as she went around the table shaking everyone's hand again. When she got to Camila she put on her best noncommittal CFO face and extended her hand in farewell.

"We're glad to have you with us, Camila."

Camila's eyes were dark and knowing, yet nonthreatening at the same time. She looked from her outstretched hand, to Lauren's eyes, and back again before taking it in her own. The same surge of electricity and connection was as strong as the first time they'd touched. Lauren knew she should release her, but couldn't. It wasn't until Alexa cleared her throat that she finally did.