She runs her fingers along a fringed boucle sleeve. “Thank you. I couldn’t decide between pink or ivory today … anyway …”
Camilla takes a sip from a champagne glass filled with orange juice and I think about what Talon said about his mom always self-medicating. She places it aside, her fingers tapping on the table. Despite the fact that she invited me to this brunch, I’m picking up on a little nervousness from her end.
“Are you enjoying your spring break?” she asks.
I smile. “Very much so. Talon and I caught that new Tarantino film the other day, and just yesterday, we volunteered at an animal shelter.”
Her brows lift. “Talon … my Talon … volunteered?”
I pretend not to act surprised that she’s surprised …
From what it sounds like, growing up, he didn’t have time to do anything but football. If he’d have been afforded a little more free time, I imagine he would’ve done amazing things with it.
“What about you? What have you been up to these days?” I hate small talk, but it’s a necessary evil when you’re trying to establish a rapport with someone.
She offers a polite smile, hesitating for a moment. “A little of everything I suppose …”
And then I realize—she didn’t come here to vet me. She didn’t come here to get to know me. She came here with a mission.
“Irie, I’m going to cut to the chase here,” she says. “The reason I invited you out to brunch is because Talon hasn’t signed his contract yet.”
“What?”
I had no idea …
Just the other night he asked me to go with him to Richmond. I assumed he’d already signed the contract …
“The deadline is tomorrow,” she says. “If he doesn’t sign it, they can take the offer off the table completely or they can give him a less … savory … offer.”
“I had no idea. He hasn’t told me any of this.” There’s a sharp stab in my middle, though I think the pain is all in my imagination, the emotional sting of betrayal.
Why wouldn’t he have told me this? It’s not the kind of thing that someone casually leaves out of conversation with their significant other, especially when we’ve talked about the future on several different occasions.
He always made it sound like he was going—so what’s with the contract?
“I need you to end this with him,” she says, sitting taller, her gaze cold and penetrating. Gone are her nerves and in their place is an agenda. “Immediately.”
“Camilla …”
“Irie, he’s come too far to throw this all away, and I know you know that. You seem to be a very reasonable young woman with a good head on your shoulders, so I’m sure you understand the gravity of this situation,” she says, taking another sip of her mimosa. “If you love my son, and I believe that you do, you’ll end this. You’ll let him go so he can sign the contract and do what’s best for his future.” She examines me before continuing. “And if he loves you, he’ll wait for you, for the right time. If what you have is real, you’ll be together again. Someday.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I think he and I should talk about—”
“No,” her voice cuts over mine and her shoulders straighten. “This is the only way. I know my son. I know how relentless he can be with something he wants and I know how wild he is about you. You’re going to have to call it off. It’s going to have to be your decision, not something you decide together. If you love him, if you care about his future, you’re going to have to break his heart.”
My stomach twists until it burns. The thought of doing this to Talon tears me up inside.
I can’t go behind his back and make this decision for him.
But I also know he shouldn’t throw his entire future away for me.
There’s a part of him that loves the game, even if he’s temporarily misplaced that love.
I can’t take that away from him.
I love him too much.
“You seem to be thinking about this,” Camilla says, her full lips pressed into a hard line. “I was afraid of that.” She clears her throat. “The first time we met, you mentioned you’d been offered a job with Kira Kepner, opening her new Malibu location.”
“Yes …”
“Kira actually started out as an intern of mine back in the day,” she says, brushing a silky strand of hair off her cheekbone. “We’re quite close. In fact, I’m quite close with a lot of people in this industry—particularly in the Southern California region. And Mark does quite a bit of business with a lot of them. It’s quite an incestuous little industry. Anyway, a couple of phone calls, Irie, and your shiny new degree would be reduced to ash.” Camilla clucks her tongue. “It’d be a shame seeing all those years, all that hard work, go to waste.”