Faking It | Wattys 2022

Chapter 4

"Your dad would shit his pants if you ever brought a woman like that home. Brains and beauty?" Harry laughed. "Fucker might just collapse on the spot,"

-

Without even realizing it, Harry had given her the greatest idea ever. Of course, getting the professor to agree to her perfect plan would be an obstacle in itself, but she was determined.

Harry was right. Her father would be absolutely infatuated with the raven-haired woman, Lauren was exactly the kind of person he would want his daughter to bring home. This has to work. She needs it to work.

"I'm trying to be your friend,"

"People like us aren't friends," Lauren shot back.

"Define people like us,"

Lauren wandered over to the table filled with finger sandwiches. "We're polar opposites,"

"I highly doubt that. You don't even know me." Camila tried to argue.

"I know that you've been filthy rich ever since you were a kid. And that you grew up in one of the best mansions in Miami while playing golf for fucking fun on the weekends."

Camila raised her eyebrows in surprise, a sly smile on her face. "Did you read my magazine spread?"

"Normani wouldn't stop talking about it, don't flatter yourself. What I'm trying to say is, I'm below you. Even though I possess more knowledge than you ever will, you're part of the one percent. I'm not. Do you get what I'm saying? Or should I put it on a billboard for you?"

"My mom tells me all the time that opposites attract,"

"Oh my God," Lauren groaned. "You're just as unbearable as Nick,"

"Whoa," Camila's eyes widened. "Don't ever insult me like that again,"

"And you doing this..." Lauren looked around at the auditorium that was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. "Stupid party further proves I'm below you. That I'm just some regular ol' professor and you're this billionaire throwing away some pocket change to feed your ego."

"That wasn't my intention," her face turned serious. "I didn't mean to make you feel inferior. I just thought it'd be a good idea."

"A good idea for what?"

"To see you again," Camila said bluntly. "I need to talk to you about something. It's important and I wouldn't be asking you for this if I wasn't desperate."

"Camila," Alejandro came up to the two of them, a scowl on his face. "A word?"

She nervously glanced at Lauren. "I'm sorry. Duty calls." Camila turned to follow her father to one of the backrooms.

"Why the hell did I get a call from Jeffrey saying you left dinner in the damn middle of it?" He grabbed two fistfuls of her nicely-ironed white button-up.

"He's lying," Camila grabbed at his wrists so that he could let go of her shirt. "I didn't leave until after he signed all the fucking paperwork,"

"Did you stay after everyone left to pay the bill?"

She lowered her gaze to the floor. "I paid it before since I left early, but—"

Before she could even finish her sentence, his hand flew out and slapped her right across the face, a faint handprint on her cheek. "When I send you out to business meetings, I expect you to sit there and shut your mouth until it's over. This is the second time you've done this. There shouldn't have even been a first."

He released his grip on her shirt, smoothing it out. "If you want this company to be yours, you need to get your shit together. If you're not hungover or drunk then you're not listening to anything I tell you. And I refuse to let you destroy everything I've built. Do you understand?"

When she didn't respond right away, he clenched his jaw. "I asked you a question, Karla,"

"Yes, sir, I understand," Camila murmured.

"Get back out there and talk to some professors. It'll be good for the photo-ops."

Camila left the room in a hurry, desperate to get away from her father. It was never good to be around him when he was in a mood. She had grown accustomed to this—constantly walking on eggshells trying to figure out whether today would be a good or bad day for them.

Today WAS obviously a bad one.

"Why the hell is your cheek all red?" Lauren popped up next to her, giving her a mini heart attack.

"It's hot in here," Camila blatantly lied to her face, looking down at the small plate of cheeses and crackers Lauren had in her hand. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I know I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but your dad..."

"I don't need your pity," Camila repeated her words from the first night they met. "And you certainly shouldn't be sticking your nose into places it doesn't need to be."

Lauren scoffed. "You're the last person to be talking about being nosey when you were just conducting a full-on investigation the other night about my phone call. Does he do that to you often?"

"Stop asking so many fucking questions," Camila dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. The last thing she needed to be was questioned right now.

"Yeah, no. Sorry for being nice?" She laughed bitterly. "You don't get to take your anger out on me just because you can't deal with your daddy issues. Thanks for the nasty cheese and salty crackers, asshole." Lauren tossed the small plate into the trashcan before walking over to where Normani was talking to the dean.

Camila ran a tired hand over her face, cursing underneath her breath. "Lauren!" She scuffled over to the two professors and pulled her to the side. "I'm sorry, you're right. It wasn't fair of me to take my anger out on you like that. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Camila," Lauren sucked in a deep breath. "You and I both know what he did wasn't right. I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

The dark-haired woman cleared her throat, taking a step back when she found Lauren's perfume to be too intoxicating. "It's fine, really. I was there on business and I ended up being worried about other things. It's nobody's fault but mine."

"Let's... Not talk about this here anymore. The dean wants to take some pictures, so I should..." Lauren jabbed her thumb in the direction where all the professors were lining up. "Probably go,"

And just like that, Camila watched the raven-haired woman saunter her way back over to the group of people, standing right next to Normani before smiling into the flashing lights of the camera.

'Great,' Camila thought. 'I still didn't get to fucking ask,'