Chapter 21 Come find me
She twirled the wine glass in her hand, her gaze fixed on the couple seated across from her at the small but tastefully decorated dining table. The warm light from the hanging lamp above cast a soft, intimate glow over the space, wrapping the room in a kind of quiet comfort. Jackie and Kyle’s chairs were angled naturally toward each other, their knees brushing without effort as they talked and laughed. There was an easy draw between them, a rhythm in the way their fingers brushed when they reached into the same bowl. It was the kind of wordless connection that came without trying.
Holland tried not to stare too much, but she couldn’t help the faint twist of longing in her chest. Jackie and Kyle’s easy closeness was foreign to her. Even when her relationship with Oliver had been good, they’d never been like this. Never this effortless, this in sync. Their dinners had always been polite affairs, conversations that skimmed the surface. But Jackie and Kyle were practically glued to each other, laughing between bites and feeding each other spoonfuls of ice cream as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
She took a sip of her wine, trying to push the thought aside, when Jackie cleared her throat. Holland glanced up, instantly recognizing the mischievous gleam in her friend’s eyes. That particular look only meant trouble.
“Alright, just say it,” Holland said, setting her glass down. She leaned back slightly, bracing herself.
Jackie’s lips curled into a grin, and Kyle slipped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“We did it,” Jackie announced, practically bouncing in her seat.
Holland frowned. “Did what?”
Jackie gasped dramatically, as if Holland had just wounded her deeply. “Holland. We did it. You know… the thing I told you we would.”
Holland’s brow furrowed as she tried to dig through her memory for whatever Jackie was talking about. Nothing came. Jackie was unpredictable at the best of times, and her husband if anything, only encouraged that unpredictability. It was like trying to keep up with a pair of live wires.
“Jackie, I have no idea what you’re...”
Jackie scooted forward in her seat, leaning in over the table with her eyes glinting in that dangerous way Holland knew far too well. Holland found herself leaning in slightly too, curiosity piqued in spite of herself.
“Remember when we asked you if you wanted to be part of our threesome?” Jackie said casually.
Holland nearly choked on her sip of wine, coughing hard as her eyes went wide.
“Jackie!” she snapped, horrified.
The same wave of disbelief washed over her now as it had the first time Jackie had brought up that insane proposition. Back then, she had shut it down immediately before Jackie could get even a hint bolder. The very thought of tangling in bed with Jackie and Kyle was mortifying. The couple were younger, wilder, and clearly fearless when it came to that kind of experimenting. She’d passed that stage in her life, and even if she had been younger, the idea of sleeping with two people at the same time was still a firm no for her.
“Calm down tiger,” Kyle said, chuckling as if Holland’s outrage was nothing new.
“Wherever this is heading...” Holland began.
“It’s heading nowhere with you, Holls,” Jackie cut in, smirking. “Kyle and I already did it, with someone else. And just as I expected, it was wild. Amazing. Beautiful. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Holland blinked, unsure if her ears were betraying her. She looked at the couple, both wearing self-satisfied grins, and realized she hadn’t misheard. They were actually serious.
“What?” she asked flatly.
“We had that threesome,” Jackie repeated with a shrug. “Two weeks ago. We went out, met this woman, she was young, fun, gorgeous, and we ended up bringing her back here.”
Holland stared at them, caught between disbelief and morbid curiosity. "Tell me more," she finally fell for curiosity
She sat up straighter as Jackie launched into more details, her voice low but laced with smug amusement. Holland could barely keep up. The thought of her friends actually inviting a stranger into their bed felt surreal. How did people do that? Being with one person was already a handful, Oliver had taught her that well enough.
"Wait, what?" Holland managed, still trying to piece together Jackie’s wild story.
"Well, everything turned south when she woke up startled, and Ky here ended up with a nasty nosebleed," Jackie said, grinning.
For a split second, Holland stared at the couple, then burst out laughing, the sound escaping before she could stop it. Jackie smirked, clearly satisfied with her reaction.
Before Holland could add a word, her phone buzzed sharply against the table, the vibration cutting clean through Jackie’s voice. Her frown was immediate, irritation flaring at the interruption. She assumed it would be Oliver, probably checking if she was still at the office. But when she glanced down, the name flashing across the screen made her pause.
Camille Lustrelle.
At eleven o’clock at night.
Holland’s frown deepened. Without giving Jackie a chance to read her expression, she pushed back her chair and murmured a quick excuse. She slipped out from the table, her heels soft against the floor as she made her way toward the living room, the muted light there dimming the glow from the dining area.
“Hello, Holland Larson speaking,” she said, her voice snapping instantly into the clipped, professional tone she reserved for work calls
Loud music and bursts of laughter hit her ear immediately, sharp and unfiltered. The noise was pure chaos, voices shouting over bass-heavy beats, glasses clinking, someone howling with laughter in the background.
“Hollaaand,” a drunken voice drawled, the giggle between syllables unmistakable. That wasn't Camille, she could tell it. Why was she calling? And where was she? Holland froze. What in the hell? She pulled the phone away just enough to glance at the screen, her brows knitting when she saw the name again.
Pressing the phone back to her ear, she braced herself. “Ms. Lustrelle,” Holland started, her voice tightening into cool control. “What exactly...”
“Who do you think you are?” Camille cut in, her words slurred but sharp enough to sting. “Turning me down like that.”
Holland closed her eyes, her fingers sliding through her hair as she let out a slow sigh. “What is it you want, Ms. Lustrelle?”
“You,” Camille said bluntly, the single word landing with weight. A faint raspberry followed, careless and teasing. “I wanted you to have drinks with me after work. To celebrate my first week working with you. But you turned me down. Why are you such a stick in the mud all the time?'
This again. Holland’s patience frayed instantly. This girl was drunk. And bold. And clearly without the faintest filter.
“Ms. Lustrelle, if you don’t tell me what you need right now, I’m ending this call.”
There was a pause, the muffled sound of music still thumping in the background. Then Camille took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her words landed like a strike to Holland’s chest.
“You know what you need Holland? You need someone to press you against the wall and kiss the worries out of you,” Camille said, her tone low and heated. “I want to be that person. If you want to try it, come find me. I’ll show you how good I am.”
Holland’s mouth went dry. Her thoughts scattered in all directions, grasping for something to say, anything, but nothing came.
“Camille…” she started, voice tight, ready to put an end to this, but the line suddenly went dead.
Holland stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear long after the line had gone silent. Slowly, she pulled it away, staring at the screen as if it might explain what had just happened. Her pulse thudded faster than it should have.
A sudden, unwelcome heat spread through her chest, sinking lower with every beat. She tugged at the top button of her silk blouse, loosening it, then lifted a hand to fan herself, as if that could push away the image that had bloomed in her mind the moment Camille’s voice hit her.
No. Just....no.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered under her breath.
But her mind didn’t listen. It kept replaying Camille’s tone, low, sure of itself, those brazen words painting vivid, uninvited pictures she had no business imagining.
She cursed aloud.
Jackie’s head poked into the room. “Everything okay, dear? Or is Oliver bothering you again?”
Holland straightened quickly, smoothing her expression before Jackie could step further in. “It’s fine,” she said, forcing her voice steady.
She followed Jackie back toward the dining room, the soft hum of conversation and the faint clink of cutlery growing louder as they stepped inside. She slid back into her seat, but her mind was still tangled in Camille Lustrelle’s voice, those words circling like they refused to be forgotten.
Without really thinking, she glanced at Jackie and Kyle. “Be honest, am I a stick in the mud sometimes?”
The question caught them both off guard. Jackie and Kyle exchanged a quick look, then, without even trying to soften the blow, answered in perfect unison.
“Yes.”
Holland blinked, unsure if she should feel insulted or amused by her friends. “Right. Good to know.”
The conversation picked up again, Jackie diving back into her animated retelling of their night, but for Holland, it all felt distant. Her thoughts staying on Camille Lustrelle, on the nerve she’d had to call and say something so wildly inappropriate.
Tomorrow, Holland told herself, tomorrow she’d deal with this. She’d make sure Camille understood that professional boundaries existed for a reason. And if Camille couldn’t respect them, she’d be gone. They couldn’t work together like this.
Beneath that resolve, a flicker of worry crept in. Camille had sounded very drunk. Would she get home safely? Would she be fine on her own?
Holland took another slow sip of her wine, eyes unfocused. Jackie’s voice carried on, lively and unfiltered, but Holland wasn’t really listening.
Her mind was elsewhere, replaying a phone call she shouldn’t have answered, and a voice she couldn’t seem to shake.