Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“I love this place,” Cami ventured, looking at me across the table. I had the feeling her words were designed to test the waters rather than start an actual conversation.
I smiled again, but not a fraction of warmth entered it. She looked back down at the menu.
I let Cami pick the wine off the vegan wine list. I didn’t have to ask anymore what the hell kind of wine wasn’t vegan. She’d already explained that it was the typical refining agents that weren’t vegan friendly on one of our early dates over four years ago. It was another memory I’d put away when she left, but now it sprang back, fully formed. The way she’d leaned across the table when she was explaining, her sensuous lips red and glossy. The V of her t-shirt deepening, but for once, I was more interested in what a woman was saying than what she was wearing. I found that happening a lot with Cami. It had surprised me, intrigued me. Made me want more of her than I should.
After the waiter had poured our first glasses and retreated, Cami took a deep breath. “I need to start off with an apology. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Emma.”
I was never one to smooth situations over with an insincere don’t worry about it, and I didn’t now. I tasted the wine instead and waited.
“I also won’t pretend like it wasn’t money that brought me back.” Cami’s dark eyes fell to the ruby liquid in her glass. She twisted it around by the stem without drinking it. “We both know it was, but–”
I cut her off. “If you think I’m just going to write you a check, you’re dead wrong, Cami.”
“No, no. I’m not asking you to just write me a check.” Her eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise. Again, I searched for artifice and found none. “I said I had a business proposal, not a charitable request.”
I’d assumed the two were interchangeable in her mind, but I tried not to let my skepticism show on my face. “Then let’s hear it.”
To my surprise, Cami pulled a notebook-sized, wafer-thin computer from her purse.
Despite the circumstances, I had to struggle not to laugh. “You made an actual business plan?”
Her lips curved into a small, embarrassed smile. “Not exactly. I have an Excel sheet.” She turned the screen toward me and began to explain. My eyes scanned the columns of numbers with interest. She wanted to go to a Naturopath program at Cal State.
The LA campus, I noted. Good.
She had included the cost of the program she wanted to do, breaking it down by year based on how many classes she’d take each semester. She’d ballparked the cost of books. I was more interested in the costs associated with Emma, though.
“She’s out of diapers now, so that’s a big savings,” Cami said. “Not that I thought about it back then, but when I look back at how much I spent, it’s hard to believe.” She shrugged her bare shoulders, making the thin burgundy straps slip across her clavicle. Her skin was golden, her tan deeper than it had been four years ago. I refused to let my gaze linger on it though. I needed to pay attention to the bottom line. Cami was in the middle of saying something about how expensive daycare was, but I interrupted her.
“You’re going to graduate from this program with almost three-hundred thousand dollars in debt.”
Cami nodded grimly. “I know. It’s expensive, and no one is going to give someone like me a grant or a scholarship. And I have to factor in the cost-of-living expenses and Emma. But as you can see on the next tab, I have a plan to pay you back in–” she bit her lip “--ten years. Hopefully faster.”
I skimmed that tab. It was too ambitious. Fifteen years was more reasonable, if she wanted to live somewhere other than a slum while she built her Naturopath practice. “You aren’t factoring in child support,” I noted. “Why not?” I knew it couldn’t have been an oversight. She’d been too thorough and meticulous about everything else.
Cami lifted her chin and met my eyes. “I’m not asking you for child support. Not if you loan me the money at this interest rate that’s lower than any student loan program would give me. I feel like one offsets the other.”
“It doesn’t.” I knew a little something about this from my friend Con, who had paid child support for his oldest daughter until she turned eighteen. “Someone making what I do would be paying you ten thousand a month. You’d have more than enough to live on and go to school with.”
“Ten thousand,” Cami said incredulously. “Are you really so–” she cut herself off, a faint flush rising to her cheeks.