“Oh, that’s nice that they’re able to work with your school hours,” Mom said.
Dad nodded mildly. “What is it you hope to do when you finish your program?”
“To be honest, I’m not exactly sure.” Cami gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Right now, the plan is to take on a few freelance coding projects of different types, and see what I enjoy the most. I can make money while testing the waters, so to speak, then make an informed decision from there.”
Dad’s mouth turned down into a contemplative expression. “That sounds very sensible.”
“Yes, it does,” Des said, taking a healthy swallow of his bourbon, then slapping his palm against his knee. “So does moving to the dining room. Is there an ETA on dinner? Or was this all a ruse to interrogate poor Cami, and no food is actually on the menu?”
“Oh, that would be diabolical,” Liv interjected. “But at the very least the apps should be ready, right, Mom?”
Mom sighed and pushed to her feet again. “Ungrateful spawn. Only here to eat me out of house and home.”
“Ingrates or not, I would appreciate a shift to the dining room.” Dad climbed to his feet then, too, and offered his elbow to his wife, who took it absently, like an old habit that just wouldn’t die. He led the way, followed by Olivia, then by Cami and Des.
He ducked down to whisper into her ear as they were walking, “You holding up okay so far?”
She smiled and nodded. “Of course. They seem very nice. Quit freaking out.”
Ha. If only she knew the depths of his anxiety.
The dining room adjoined the kitchen, the same granite tile running through both rooms. The maple-and-glass dining table rested on a cream-colored rug that matched the light wood tones of the furniture suite. A crystal chandelier hung over the table, and as he pulled a chair out for Cami, he noticed her admiring it.
So did his father. “You like it?”
“It’s lovely,” Cami affirmed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Dad smiled, taking his seat at the head of the table. “I had it commissioned for Jade for our fifteenth anniversary. We didn’t live here then, but I made sure we brought it over when we moved.”
“That’s very sweet.” Cami pulled her chair closer to the table as Des sat next to her, then she fidgeted with the napkin under her cutlery.
He couldn’t help but wonder if the lavishness of the Blake house was starting to get to her. Under the table, he gave her knee a supportive squeeze, and she cast him a smile.
His mother sat to his father’s left, and Olivia sat next to her, across from Cami, after placing a plate of appetizers in the center of the table. As he loaded up his plate with spicy shrimp, his parents exchanged a meaningful glance.
“So Cami,” Mom started, using a shellfish fork to daintily dip her shrimp in cocktail sauce, “have you always been interested in computer sciences?”
There was a beat of thoughtful silence as Cami mulled over her response, dipping one of her shrimp. “I wouldn’t say that. I wasn’t uninterested in it, but for many years, higher education wasn’t an option for me, so I didn’t put that much thought into what I’d like to do. It would have been pointless. I was too busy caring for my grandmother. It was only after she passed that going back to school was possible. But computers had always made sense to me, so when the opportunity presented itself, it seemed like a good fit.”
“You put your career on hold to prioritize your family,” Dad summarized. “There’s nothing shameful about that. It’s never too late to start doing what you love.”
“Too right,” Mom agreed, gray eyes fixing pointedly on Des.
He sighed. “Mom?—”
She continued as though he hadn’t tried to interrupt. “We know, we know, you’re very happy with what you do.”
All at once, his body wound tight like a wire. He’d expected them to insinuate he should go back to medicine—they couldn’t manage a single family get-together without it—but his mom was toeing closer to the line of his current profession than he’d expected. This couldn’t be how Cami learned the truth. He just needed a little more time. He had to find the right way to tell her. If his mom spilled the beans before he could tell her himself, she’d never forgive him. He wanted to interrupt, but his heart had lodged itself in his throat and the only noise he could manage was a vague grunt.
Cami gazed at him. He was sure she was trying to gauge his reaction to what was going on, maybe to decide if she should interject, but he couldn’t make himself look away from his mom.
Oblivious to his distress, Mom breezed on. “But don’t you wish you were doing something a bit more noble? More for the public good?” She seemed to notice, then, how tense he’d gotten, and her expression softened with sincerity. She’d shifted from Mother into Mom, reaching across the table as though to take his hand, but aborting the movement. “You always loved that part of medicine, Des. That part of you doesn’t go away just because you changed careers.”
“Mom,” he said again, but this time had nothing to follow it up with. The kicker was, she was right. He was good at what he did, but Calogistics had been a means to an end. He’d taken up Gabriel’s offer as a way to make money, both so he could pay his parents back for his med school fees, and to prove to his father he could outearn a bigshot surgeon without being worked to the bone. But working hard had never been a problem for him. He had loved interacting with patients, using his skills to improve their lives and give them hope for the future. There wasn’t a lot of compassion in helping trillionaires buy property to build skyscrapers on.
There wasn’t a lot of compassion in lying to Cami, in taking her job and her home.
Everyone had grown quiet. They were watching him with careful curiosity. For his family, they were probably wondering why he wasn’t telling them off yet again, like he had every other time they’d brought this up. Judging by the way Cami sought his hand and brushed her thumb along his knuckles, she was waiting to take his cue.
