Page 151 of Not That Into You

Epilogue

Cameron

A smile pulls at my lips as Cynthia Harlow glides toward me, her gold dress sparkling with each step.

We kiss each other’s cheeks before I pull back to admire her. “You look stunning, as usual.”

Cynthia smiles before lifting a brow. “I see you’re drinking alone again this year.”

I glance down at the glass of champagne I’m holding, then chuckle at the memory of our meeting at last year’s Stanhope Foundation Gala.

A lot has changed since then, and us meeting like this again has a nice symmetry.

“I’m waiting for Monica to return from the bathroom.”

Cynthia cocks her head. “You sure you’re not hiding from your parents?”

Placing a hand over my heart, I gasp dramatically. “Would I do that?”

She chuckles, then looks out at the room full of people. “Another year, another successful gala.” She looks at me. “Thanks in part to you, Mr. Director of Marketing and Communications.”

I snort. “Please. Once again, the gala’s success is primarily a result of your efforts.”

As the executive director of the Stanhope Foundation—and my boss—Cynthia has outdone herself. And I couldn’t be prouder or happier.

Of course, my happiness isn’t just because of Cynthia’s hard work. Though she’s proven to be an incredible boss, and I’ve enjoyed working at the Stanhope Foundation even more than I expected. It’s also because of the woman who just walked up next to me.

Monica takes the champagne flute from my hand and smiles. “I’m back.”

Grinning, I clasp her free hand and kiss her on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes. “I look the same as I did ten minutes ago.”

I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “Which is beautiful.”

My chest warms as she dips her head, trying to hide her flush of pleasure. Monica always looks beautiful, but tonight, wearing an emerald green Zuhair Murad beaded dress with her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, she’s breathtaking. I can’t stop staring at her.

She smiles at Cynthia. “Congratulations on pulling this all together.”

“Thank you.” Cynthia gives me a wry look. “Of course, I had help.”

“Oh, I know.” Monica smiles. “I heard a lot about the marketing push leading up to the gala.”

“Hey.” I feign hurt. “You said you were interested in my work.”

Monica laughs.

“Cynthia.” Monica and I both stiffen at the sound of my mother’s voice. “Talia’s looking for you.”

“Ah.” Cynthia gives me a knowing look. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll check in with you later,” I say as she glides off into the crowd.

My mother moves to stand in front of us. “Cameron. Monica. You should be circulating, not hiding in a corner.”

I stifle a sigh, then force a smile. “Hello, Mother.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re wearing the Tom Ford.”

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