"Can we talk about this later?" I sighed into the phone, juggling my lunch box, laptop, and what little patience I had left. Pam was on a roll — thirty minutes of her relentless get-yourself-a-man speech, and counting. At this rate, the Uber driver would probably leave me a one-star review for ghosting him.
"Girl, I am barely hanging on here," I protested, her voice crackling through the speaker. "I'm not even taking my car today. It's one screech away from killing me. Thank God for my left cheek and right shoulder — they're doing all the heavy lifting!"
I chuckled, squeezing the phone tighter between my ear and shoulder, "Honestly, you should just become my full-time Phone-Handler... and while you're at it, return my stolen EarPods, you little thief... Okay, darling, Bye!!"
Hanging up with a sigh, I scrambled to gather the last bits of my so-called "TGIF essentials" — which, in reality, meant another day buried behind a mountain of files, not cocktails and sunset selfies.
Pamela and I have always been different — two parallel lines that somehow stayed friends. Even in high school, while I dreamt of power heels clicking across glass floors and back-to-back meetings in penthouse boardrooms, Pam swore off anything that resembled a 9-to-5. She chased freedom; I chased security and titles like they were Pokémon cards.
If you're looking for the life of the party? That's Pam. Need a personal shopper with encyclopedic knowledge of every fashion week trend? Pam again. Thanks to her, my office wardrobe occasionally flirts with "fashionably chic" instead of "corporate zombie."
Pamela — or Pam, as I love to call her — is the perfect storm of beauty, brains, and ambition. She launched her online fashion brand fresh out of high school, and now, her name floats around fashion circles like a whispered secret. Some of her pieces even live rent-free in my closet.
And honestly, sometimes I wonder if we were even made by the same God (kidding... kind of). She's radiant, effortless, dazzling in a way that feels almost unfair. Me? I'm no troll, but standing next to Pam is like being the twinkle light next to a firework show.
While she's out there planning a wedding to her "forever plus one" — a man she met while dazzling on a red carpet in her own brand — I'm here, cradling my single life like it's an unpaid internship I can't escape.
A loud knock snapped me back.
The Uber driver.
Oh crap. Forty minutes late after my last "I'm almost ready" promise.
"I'm really sorry for keeping you waiting," I gushed, rushing toward him with the grace of a baby giraffe. I muttered something about urgent files — a lie so transparent even I winced at myself. The way he raised an eyebrow told me he caught it too. Great. Professional liar vibes at 8 AM. Perfect.
But then... I looked up.
And God bless poor life decisions — because standing before me was not just a driver. He looked like he'd wandered straight out of a dream I didn't even know I was having.
Messy, perfect hair like he belonged on a Vogue cover.
Eyes deep and stormy, the kind that could drown logic in a heartbeat.
A designer shirt that clung like it was custom-stitched to his soul.
Tall, sharp-jawed, and carrying a smirk that hinted he had ruined more hearts than he could ever count.
"It's fine," he said with a lazy smile, leading me toward his parked grey Honda Civic. And my feet... God help me... my feet wobbled.
"Oh my days, what is happening right now?" my heart shrieked.
I watched him — the way he moved, smooth and effortless, like the universe had choreographed his every step. A piece of magic wrapped in human skin. I swear the world tilted a little around him, as if gravity just gave up trying to hold itself together.
He didn't even know the effect he had — and that made it a thousand times worse. Worse, or better. I wasn't sure yet.
All I knew was this: some part of me already missed him... even though I hadn't even had him yet.
Thank heavens for that mischievous little shrub — my left heel got caught, and just like that, destiny decided to play its hand. But honestly, how did I even end up here? A question swirling in my mind with no answer in sight.
"I'm fine," I lied smoothly, flashing a smile as he leaned down, his hands brushing the morning dew from my dress — a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down my spine.
"You need to be more careful, ma'am," he said, holding the car door open like some kind of knight in slightly wrinkled khakis. I slipped into the seat, soaking in the moment, secretly mourning the fact that my daydreams of making him my man would probably stay tucked away in my hopelessly romantic mind.
Still, I wasn't ready to drown in a sea of spreadsheets and endless phone calls just yet. Not today. Not this Friday.
This Friday needed to be different — spiked with a little unexpected sweetness, a twist of fate, a stolen moment or two.
Without meaning to, I whispered it aloud:
"I need a little magical sweetness today..."
His head tilted, that crooked smile playing on his lips. And just like that, maybe, just maybe, the day heard me.
Some magical sweetness, he murmured again, his voice teasing as it rolled off his tongue. "That depends on you, ma'am. How about you make up for today's little delay?" His words hung in the air, daring me to respond. And then our eyes met—locked—like two magnets, unwilling to pull away. A daring smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Huh?" he asked, his voice low, waiting for a response that I had already heard in my head the moment I laid eyes on him.
I couldn't pretend I hadn't heard him.
"Well, let's ditch the 'ma'am' part," I said, my voice shifting into something playful. "Call me Camila."
"Camila," he repeated almost immediately, the sound of my name on his lips somehow more intimate than I expected. "You know my name?"
I smirked, feeling a little embarrassed. "Oh my, I must've forgotten I registered it on the Uber site... Was I being stupid, or just... overly lost in my romantic daydreams?"
His laughter was warm, pulling me deeper into this unexpected moment. "I think you were just caught up in the magic."
"Okay then, Mr. Harry," I replied, my tone taking on a playful challenge as the car came to a gentle halt. "Let's see how this goes."
Smiling to myself with a satisfaction that could rival the best secret, I stepped out of the car, feeling both radiant and heavy with anticipation. If anyone had seen me, they'd think I'd just stepped out of a spa session—completely refreshed and glowing.
I closed the door with such grace that it felt like it was meant to be, and as I turned, I could've sworn I heard him murmur, "See you at 5:30, My Cam?"
"My Cam?" I raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on my lips. "We'll see about that."
....