The familiar stranger

The familiar stranger

Camila’s POV

“He wanted me to set up a meeting—just the three of us.”

What? That sly fox.

My stomach tightened at the sound of his name. How dare he? After everything he put me through, the audacity to even think he could ask for me. Asher knew better—or at least I thought he did.

I turned my head sharply, my eyes narrowing at him before I tore them away, fixing on the blur of headlights outside.

“So why didn’t you set it up?” I asked, my voice low and clipped.

He let out a breath, half disgusted, half incredulous, like I’d just asked if pigs could fly. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I just want to know,” I shot back. “You’re not the type to compromise when it comes to business. So why not this time?”

“Would you seriously have been okay with that?” His gaze burnt into me.

My laugh came out dry, humourless. “Since when has what I’m okay with ever mattered to you?”

His shoulders lifted in the faintest shrug. “How would you know? When you’ve never really allowed me to show you?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re predictable.”

On and on we went, tossing words at each other like knives, until Elias cleared his throat from the front seat. “With all due respect, sir, ma’am… Wouldn’t it be better to continue this conversation at home rather than on the road?”

“Oh, shut it, Elias,” Asher and I snapped in perfect unison.

We froze.

Slowly, our heads turned toward each other, wide-eyed, as if the universe had just played some sick joke on us. And then—just like that—I saw the corner of his lips twitch. Mine followed, unwillingly. And before I knew it, we were laughing. Full, unguarded, ridiculous laughter that stole the air from my lungs.

At some point between laughing too hard and gasping for breath, my hand landed on his lap. And lingered there….

Then boom!!

Reality snapped back fast. I yanked it away like his suit had burnt me. Adjusted a bit and dragged my eyes to the window. Asher’s laughter faded too, though I caught the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Elias’ lips curved into a smug smile in the rearview mirror. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he orchestrated that whole scene.

The car fell into silence after that. A silence so suffocating I found myself begging in my head for someone, anyone… to say something.

Then it hit me.

Asher had promised to tell me about the arrest, about how everything went down.

Oh no. Why do I have to be the one to bring it up?

Still, I swallowed the knot in my throat and forced the words out. “You’re okay? I mean… with the whole arrest thing?”

Asher tilted his head toward me, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you asking out of concern, or…?”

I rolled my eyes and looked away again. He always had to turn things into a game.

Asher’s POV

So that’s what this is. Mrs Camila wants answers. And maybe she deserves them… After all, she showed up the second she heard I’d been arrested. Sweet of her, really.

“They realised I was innocent,” I said evenly, making sure my tone left no cracks to pry open. “So they let me go.”

Not a lie. But not the whole truth either. The rest—the part where my father pulled strings, bent the law like it was origami, and made those men let me off the hook immediately—stayed buried. She didn’t need to know.

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious, like she could see the walls I was building brick by brick.

“Then why did your dad have to come all of a sudden?”

I sighed inwardly. Saw that coming.

“He… got a call, same as you. He was worried.”

A half-truth, but enough to keep her curiosity at bay. Hopefully.

Camila’s POV

I didn’t want to ask more questions. I didn't want to argue, not when Asher here will of course do anything to cover his dad's dirty linings. I just wanted to get home, curl up in bed, and erase the night.

But Asher’s voice cut through. “James, take a detour. Stop at Benny’s Oven.”

I blinked, confused. “Wait….what? Why?”

“Okay, sir.” James replied, already turning the steering.

“No way!” My voice came out louder than I intended, sharp, almost panicked. Asher and Elias turned their heads to look at me. I swallowed hard. “I—I just want to go home. Please.”

“Yes, way.” Asher leaned back, unbothered, with a sly tilt at the corner of his mouth. “Trust me, Camila. Their pizza is one of the best in Nevada. You’ll thank me.”

I shook my head, frustrated. He was impossible.

Elias cleared his throat from the front seat. “Sir, you do realise the media are still on your trail, don’t you?”

Asher’s smirk deepened. “That’s why I have a plan.”

\-----

Ten minutes later, we were standing in front of Benny’s Oven, practically disguised like fugitives. Hoodies, face caps, oversized sweaters—thanks to a quick stop at Clover & Co. Apparel just down the street. Asher even threw on a pair of dark glasses, looking like some undercover celebrity who wanted to be caught anyway.

We must have looked ridiculous. I'm very sure of it.

Inside, the place smelt like heaven. Garlic, cheese, baked dough… all swirling together until my stomach actually growled in betrayal.

We slid into a booth at the far end, Asher making sure we had our backs to the windows. Elias, ever watchful, stayed near the entrance like some guard dog with manners.

A waitress appeared, smiling politely. Asher ordered for us without hesitation. “One large pepperoni, extra cheese. And two ice-cold root beers.”

I raised a brow. Root beer? Seriously? But fine, I wasn’t going to argue.

The pizza arrived steaming, cheese bubbling over the golden crust. My resolve cracked at the first whiff. I picked up a slice, hesitated… then took a bite.

The flavour hit instantly. Crisp crust, tangy sauce, just the right amount of grease. My eyes widened in betrayal of my pride.

“Oh my God,” I muttered through a mouthful, staring at the slice like it had solved world peace. “Okay, fine… this is… so good.”

Asher smirked like a man who’d just won a bet. “Told you.”

We fell into a rhythm after that… slice after slice, root beer fizzing, laughter slipping in between bites like it had always belonged there. For a moment, the world outside… media hounds and family wars didn’t exist. It was just pizza and us. I felt strangely comfortable.

When the last crumbs were gone, Asher flagged the waitress and ordered more. “Box them up. One for home, and two more… for Elias and James.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How generous of you.”

He only shrugged, smirk still glued on like he’d invented kindness. “Don't get used to it, though.”

I rolled my eyes, dabbed a napkin to my mouth and grabbed my bag. “Restroom. Two minutes.”

When I got there, I did my business, washed my hands, and pulled the hoodie back over my head.

Once I was done, I pushed the restroom door open and stepped out, still struggling to tug every strand of my hair into the cap.

And that’s when I saw her.

A lady scrolling on her phone with a kind of effortless poise that instantly rubbed me the wrong way. Glossy waves of perfect hair framed her face.

My steps slowed. Something about her was familiar. Too familiar.

Her head lifted just then, enabling our eyes to meet.

What? Jocelyn?

Miss Perfect Hair. The nightmare of my school years… and the full-time witch herself.

Her lips parted in recognition at the exact same moment as mine.

“Camila?”

“Jocelyn?”

We said each other’s names in unison, the sound hanging in the air like a curse.