Page 86 of The Best I Never Had

She laughs again, and I love the way we shift from arguing to being friends again.

“Come work for me,” Camila says.

“What?” The word bursts out of me without consciously processing it.

“Come run the restaurant.”

My mind is whirling, struggling to catch up with the lunacy of the offer. “But … but I have no experience.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “You worked at another restaurant for twelve years.”

“As a server,” I say, too loud from the way it booms through the room. “Not as a manager. Fuck, they didn’t even trust me enough to make me a shift supervisor, and you want to give me a whole damn restaurant?”

Camila shrugs. “I don’t know what your old boss’s problem was, but you did a great job a couple nights ago.”

“I covered the restaurant for a few hours, and we served eight fucking tables, Cami.”

“Look, I’ll level with you,” she leans forward, dropping her voice like she’s sharing government secrets. “I’m desperate. I’m going on maternity leave in four months—and that’s assuming this little girl cooks as long as she’s supposed to—and I have nothing lined up. Mira’s taking on a lot, but I can’t leave it all on her, especially when she wants to spend time with the baby, too.”

“I’m your last option?” I say with a laugh. This is more comfortable territory. She doesn’t want me, per se, she just needs someone.

“You knew what you were talking about, and I like you. Working relationships have been built on far less.”

I’d love to work with Camila, getting to spend my days in these mountains and my nights working at a restaurant where the owner respects me.

Camila continues. “I want to use your ideas on how to get the locals back into our restaurant. It’s a trek up the mountain, but we did it before. And with you at the helm, I think we could do it again. Focus on special occasions. Build a community here.”

God, it all sounds too good to be true. I genuinely like Camila and could see her being a friend, and there’s something magical about these mountains, something that lets me feel like I can move past the persona I developed in Florida, just like Cece said.

“What about Owen?” I ask quietly.

Camila’s mouth twists in a wicked smile. “Owen’s a consideration?”

I nudge her with my foot. “Shut up. You know he is.”

“I know no such thing because you won’t tell me shit.” She lifts her hands in front of her. “Look, I don’t know how serious you and my cousin are. If it’s real, I love that for the both of you. He’s incredible, and he deserves happiness. But you don’t belong to him. I’m offering you this job because I think you’d be great at it. I’m not going to cut you off from your choices just because you and Owen may be something.”

Choices.

That word hasn’t been a part of my vocabulary for as long as I can remember. A mythical thing, like unicorns and fairies.

“Just think about it, okay?” Camila asks, and I nod.

Obviously, I won’t take it. Owen and I have plans. I think of his handsome face—the way he dips his head to hide a smile when he’s embarrassed and the concentrated furrow of his brow while baking. If it’s a choice between him and a new job—him and anything, really—there’s no choice at all.

But that’s not accurate. I know what it’s like to truly have no choice. This isn’t like me and Addy being forced to move homes because a broken system decided it was time. Or me taking a job at Cibare because it was the only place within walking distance when I was a kid, desperate for money. This is the first true, free choice of my life.

And I choose him.

Chapter 26

THEA

Camila’s offer is still churning in my mind later that afternoon when the family gathers in the ballroom. I want to tell Owen about it before the family gossip train reaches him, but I need to find a way that doesn’t make the infuriating, self-sacrificing man pull away because he thinks he’s standing in my way.

We’re supposed to get everything set up for the next couple of days—the rehearsal dinner in here tomorrow and the reception the following day—and the room is swarmed with Ellises. It’s beautiful, watching the way this family comes together. The cousins are ridiculous and constantly mess with each other, but they show up in a way I didn’t think was real outside the sitcoms one of my foster brothers obsessively watched on Nick at Nite.

As soon as I arrive, I subtly make my way over to where Owen is unloading chairs from the cart. His back shifts with each stack he lifts, and I want to run my hand down it, experience the roll of his muscles with my fingertips like reading a book in braille.