Page 93 of Effortless

The first thing he thought?

She’s not Camilla Donati.

She was tall, black-haired, and blue-eyed.

Thin as could be.

Pretty, sure.

“I beg your pardon?” Tom asked.

The woman smiled.

“Your friend …” She pointed at Lou across the bar currently playing a round of pool with a guy and another girl.

He’d asked Tom to join, too, but he hadn’t been in the mood. Instead, he stared at his phone for a good hour and a half while he got drunk on whiskey. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

“He said you were a little lonely, and I thought maybe I could cheer you up,” the woman said.

Tom cleared his throat, and wet his lips.

He usually appreciated a bold woman.

Hell, bold was what drew him to Camilla.

Camilla.

Fuck. His. Life.

Pushing off the stool, Tom gave the woman a smile.

Every bit of it was forced.

“Tell Lou thanks for the concern, but I don’t need cheering up,” Tom said.

“You sure?”

Baby blues and painted red lips.

He didn’t doubt she would be a fun time.

She just wasn’t Camilla.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

With that, Tom headed out of the bar without a goodbye to his friend. His phone was still dead to the world in his hand.

No calls.

No texts.

Tom had to hide the phone in his pocket, and busy his hands by running them through his hair in order to keep from calling her.

Fuck Camilla, too.

Fuck her for making him feel like this.

Fuck her for ruining him like this.