Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (6 page)

Chapter 15

If Camila thought that dropping the class would’ve been enough to escape Marshall, or at least his specter, she was wrong. News of the new, hot, brilliant law professor spread among the classes, which didn’t take long considering the small size of the student body. Even within the confines of the small Law Review office, as she prepared for the editors’ meeting, she was surrounded by it.

“You know he clerked for Scalia,” Lisa, one of the senior editors, tells her one morning.

“Uh-huh,” Camila replies, flashing back to the conversation she’d had with Shoshana. She didn’t have to look up his bio. Her cousin took care of that the moment Camila told her that Marshall was teaching at the law school.

“He clerked for Sotomayor too,” Shoshana read from her phone. “I knew he was brilliant.” She flashed the screen at Camila, whose eyes lingered over the small headshot next to his bio.

“Brilliant or not. He’s my professor.”

“Technically, he
was
your professor for an hour and a half. He ceased to be the moment you dropped his class,” her cousin reminded her.

“It’s a technicality. There’s still an issue of ethics.”

“That’s highly debatable,” Shoshana pointed a finger. “And don’t get any ideas. I’ve got a headache.”

“Whatever. I’m not going to see him or sleep with him so none of it matters.”

“But aren’t you the least bit intrigued, C.C.? You guys can totally have a professor/student thing. Come on, who hasn’t had that fantasy. Remember that crush I had on my Greek philosophy prof? The way he talked about Socrates, I swear . . . .”

Camila shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a buzzkill. Everyone should have at least one elicit love affair before they die or get married.”

“I like how you mention dying before getting married, as if the latter is less appealing,” Camila said wryly.

Shoshana twirled a stray lock of hair that fell out of her ponytail. “Whatever.” She looked at the waitress who approached quietly. “A chocolate almond croissant and skim cappuccino, please.”

Camila ordered the same. “What’s with all the sugar?”

“I got my period a couple of days ago. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have stayed in bed with my heating pad.”

“You just wanted to talk more about Marshall.”

Shoshana nodded her head. “Hell yes.” She gestured toward her phone. “You should read about him or at least the articles he’s written on women’s reproductive rights. I’m starting to wish I kept him for myself.”

Camila shook her head again. “Maybe you should have. At least one of us would be having sex on a regular basis.”

Shoshana made a face.

“Look, I don’t need to know any more about him than I do.” Camila buried her face in her hands. “It’s not as if I don’t know the most intimate parts. Far more intimate than any student should know about her professor. And speaking of which, how could you text for a week and not know what he did for a living?”

Shoshana shrugged. “He mentioned he was named after Justice Thurgood Marshall, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Guess it makes sense now,” she chuckled.

Camila raised an eyebrow.

“Look, it’s not like we texted all day every day. Besides, you don’t like sharing a bunch of personal details so I moved away from that and kept it fun. He’s pretty cool and easy like that, don’t you think?” She smiled knowingly at her cousin who didn’t respond. She would’ve been forced to agree, and she doesn’t want to acknowledge anything positive about Marshall. It will only make it harder for her to forget him.

“Some of us have a pool going to figure out if he’s available,” Lisa continues.

Camila looks up from her laptop. “What’s the point? It’s not as if any of the students can date him?”

“So? We can at least fantasize.” She tosses her strawberry-blond hair over a shoulder. “Besides, haven’t you seen him? He’s like twenty years younger than most of the professors here and way easier to look at.”

Camila shrugs. “Yeah, I’ve seen him.”
And fucked his brains out too
. “I dropped his class for the Immigrants’ Rights Seminar.”

“Why would you do that?” Lisa gives her a puzzled look. “I heard there’s already a wait list for his 1L Con Law class in the Spring.”

Camila shakes her head, not wanting to answer her question. “Maybe the Law School figured out that hiring a good looking professor would be enough to motivate its students.”

Lisa smiles and nods. “I’d say we’re finally getting our money’s worth.”

Camila tries to smile and play along, but deep down it bothers her that people won’t stop talking about him. The moment she hears his name, her mind flashes to the way she rode him in her bed that night and, while a part of her wants to cringe, another part of her is turned on. She doesn’t need a Marshall James fantasy because she’s had it, and she knows exactly what he’s capable of offering. The thought burns through her body and makes her crave his kiss. She shakes her head. The last thing she needs is to feel anything akin to lust or desire for him.

The chatter among the senior and executive editors as they shuffle around is a mix of work, personal life and still more Marshall James. Thankfully there are enough different conversations to drown out everything else about the new professor. She’s relieved when she spies Professor Pryor enter the room and head straight for her desk.

The talking drops to a dull murmur as Professor Pryor pulls Camila aside. “My apologies for being late. I was in a meeting with the Dean.”

Camila waves. “No problem at all. I trust you received my emails regarding the October publication?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” The Professor perches on the edge of the desk. “I’m glad you pretty much have it wrapped up and ready to go, which makes what I have to say easier.”

Camila looks at her quizzically.

“I’m stepping down as Faculty Advisor. I’ve been brought in to consult on a case that will take up a lot of my time for the next few months.”

“Of course. You mentioned the possibility a while ago,” Camila replies. “When do I get to meet with your replacement?”

Before Professor Pryor can respond, the talking ceases and heads turn when Marshall enters the room.

“How about right now,” she answers.

Dread spreads throughout Camila’s body. She can feel a weight enter her chest and her breathing spike. She forces a smile as Marshall approaches.

“Professor Pryor,” he extends a hand. “Thank you for coming in today.”

“Of course,” she replies.

Oh my god, is she blushing
? Camila wonders. She offers her hand before prompted. She doesn’t want Marshall to think he caught her off guard. Although it’s precisely what he’s done.

“Camila Cohen, Editor-in-Chief,” she says, introducing herself. Of course it’s all for show. The last thing she wants is to have to place her hand in his, to remember how smooth his touch is and how incredible it felt when he traced his fingers over her back. She shudders at the memory and at the thought of what he did after.

“Ah, yes,” he replies, touching his finger to his lip. “You were in my Comparative Con Law seminar last week.”

Camila nods. “Unfortunately, I had to drop it due to a scheduling conflict.” Her smooth voice surprises her.
This will be easier than I thought
, she assures herself.

She moves to Professor Pryor’s left, placing the unsuspecting woman between them. A specialist in human rights law, Professor Pryor turns to the group of editors and says, “Professor James comes to us with an esteemed background in Con Law, having clerked for two Supreme Court Justices. We’re very fortunate that he turned down a teaching post at Harvard Law School. As former Editor-in-Chief of the Yale Law Journal, I’ve no doubt he has much expertise to share. I’m confident that I’m leaving you in very capable hands.” She first nods at Marshall and then at Camila. “Good luck.” Then she turns to the group. “My door is always open, but try emailing first.”

Polite laughter trails after her as she exits, leaving Marshall and Camila standing side-by-side at the front of the room. She can feel his energy reach for her, the warmth coming off his body as he clears his throat to address the editors. She’s on auto-pilot now as she goes through topics and assignments with the editors, ignoring the burning gaze she feels coming from him. As soon as she finishes, Marshall segues into his own vision for the Law Review and the upcoming publications.

“I know many in the legal profession want to dismiss or downplay the significance of Law Review. But I believe that it still maintains its relevance today.” He goes on to mention two instances of law review articles cited in major legal battles this past year that had made their way to the Second Circuit Court of Appeals. “So for our next issue, I’d like to see some articles offering a deeper exploration of a Federal circuit case and some student notes examining some of the top supreme court cases of last year and their broader implications. Show me what you’re capable of. I want you to impress me.”

Marshall looks at Camila when he makes that last statement.
Impress me
. . . . No, she won’t be the one to write those articles, but she gets that he’s expecting something from her. And at the moment, her heart pounds against her chest, wanting to accept the challenge. Camila swallows, ignoring the burning that’s passing through her and lingering at her cunt. “Thank you all for coming,” she says. “I look forward to a strong year.”

Chapter 16

“When’s mom going to be home?” Camila opens the refrigerator and stands in the door to cool off.

Her father looks up from his book. “Not for a couple of hours. The hospital’s been having to cut non-essential personnel, so she’s been putting in some long days.” He shakes his head. “At least she’ll have the holiday weekend to recover. “You want to stay for dinner? She’s stopping by Puerto Viejo on her way home.”

“Did I hear Puerto Viejo? Hopefully she’ll get some
maduros
too.” Shoshana enters the kitchen and drops a large tote bag and her purse onto the small, square dining table where her uncle sits reading. She kisses his forehead. “Hey Uncle Bernie. What are you reading?”

Not waiting for an answer, she bends down. “Oooh,
The Chocolate War
. I love that one.”

“Glad you approve. It’s on my reading list for this Fall.”

“He’s teaching a class called Race and Rebellion in American Literature,” Camila pipes in, shutting the refrigerator door.

“Pretty edgy stuff Professor Cohen,” Shoshana comments.

“Trying to stay current and keep my students engaged.” He doesn’t bother to look at his niece when he talks. She and Camila are both used to how engaged he becomes in a book. Teaching is his greatest passion, after his wife and daughter.

Camila offers Shoshana a glass of water which she swallows in two big gulps. “Thanks.”

“Surprised you came today. I warned you their air conditioner was broken.”

“I would never miss a Thursday with your parents.”

Camila looks up at the ceiling. “Thursday already?” She’s losing track of the days.

“Well, duh.” Shoshana returns to the table and pulls a book out of the large tote for her Uncle. “Dad seems to think you’ll like this, although I don’t know why. It’s pretty dry stuff.”

Camila peers over his shoulder. “I’m sure you’d rather read Camus than Huntington.”

Her father turns the book over in his hand. “I’ll take a look when I finish this.” He holds up the small paperback and resumes reading. His daughter and niece smile at him. This is why Shoshana makes it a point to visit her aunt and uncle in Brooklyn every week. Within the walls of the worn townhome is a peace she doesn’t feel at her own home with its expensive fixtures and silk drapes. She’ll take the overflowing bookshelves in her uncle’s office and library over the pristine spines of her father’s collection of classics. Not that she would choose Camila’s parents over hers though. She would, however, choose their devotion to simplicity and education over her parents’ own worship of material possessions.

“Speaking of my parents,” Shoshana begins.

“I didn’t realize we were,” Camila replies.

Her cousin waves a hand. “They’re going to the beach this weekend. You guys want to come?”

She directs the question more at her cousin than her uncle whom she knows will pass. The family has all but accepted that he will not set foot in the Hamptons.

“I’ve got a ton of reading and work,” Camila replies, attempting to sound disappointed.

“No you don’t. The bar’s closed.” Shoshana crosses her arms. “I checked myself.”

“Law Review work I mean,” Camila says defensively. She should’ve known her cousin would do something like that. One of the only holidays Todd ever bothers to close for is Labor Day weekend. He prefers to keep his bars open during family holidays when most people need too drink.

“Bring it with you. Four glorious days of gorgeous weather and beach at your feet. Trust me, it will do you a world of good.”

Camila’s father reaches up and pats her hand that’s resting on his shoulder. “You can’t forget to have fun every once in a while, honey. You’re going to wish you had more opportunities like this when you’re working eighteen-hour days at that firm of yours. What’s it called?” He finally looks up from his book and brings his hand to his chin as he thinks. “S & M.”

“S & M.” Shoshana giggles. “Apt name for a law firm I’d say.”

Camila squeezes her father’s shoulder. “If you think I should.” Ironically, the only two people, aside her cousin, who could convince Camila of anything are her parents. Not because she’s malleable to them. Rather, she knows she can trust them to remind her when she’s failing to meet her own needs, which she tends to do when it comes to work and school.

“Of course.” He removes his reading glasses and rubs his right eye with his knuckles. “I’m not going to be great company anyway. I have a lot of reading before classes begin next week.”

Shoshana claps her hands. “That settles it. After dinner, we’ll go back to your place and pack. You’ll need a white dress for the party on Saturday. You have anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Never mind. I’ll find an outfit for you.”

“You know, I hate sitting in hours of beach traffic.”

“No need. We’re taking the company helicopter this time.”

Her uncle lifts his head and scowls. “Pretty excessive don’t you think?”

“Total excess. But I can’t tell your brother how to spend his money.”

Camila’s father doesn’t blink at that last statement. He stopped seeing the Cohen family money as his own when he married his wife. He got the better end of the deal as far as he’s concerned.

“When do we leave?” Camila asks, directing the conversation away from what will clearly put her father in a mood. His brother’s indulgent spending habits always do that.

“Later, after dinner. I’m not missing out on seeing my aunt or that
lechon
from Puerto Viejo.”