Page 61 of Serving the Maestro

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly, covering my hand with hers.

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I looked away. “Not right now. They’ll be back soon.”

“Nope.” She wagged her phone at me. “Danny texted to let me know the line’s loooonnnggg—and I told him to take his time and make sure Roger stays with him. You need a drink—and I need a break from that asshole.”

“He’s not an asshole,” I said defensively.

“Honey, he’s a Class A asshole—top of the line, and please tell me you’re going to dump him.” With a gentle squeeze of her hand, she added, “But he’s not why you’re miserable.”

No. Roger had nothing to do with my current state of mind—even if he was showing some signs of sneering arrogance here and there, an attitude he hadn’t had in high school. I’d thought I imagined it, but if Cam was seeing...

“Jazz. Talk.”

The ever-present knot in my throat worsened, and I took a deep breath, and swallowed to try and ease it. But it just got bigger, and the more I tried not to think about Trent, the worse it got.

“ I already told you he’s gone.” Clearing my throat, I added, “Trent, I mean. The job he was working on is over, and he flew back to California.”

Cam’s eyes softened with understanding. “You fell for him after all, didn’t you?”

“Who the hell was I kidding?” After tugging my hand free from hers, I braced my elbows on the table. “Yes, I fell for him. All this time, I looked down on my mom for how she fell apart after my dad left and look at me now, moaning over a guy I’ve only known a couple of months.”

“Hey.”

I didn’t look up.

Cam poked me in the arm. Hard.

Scowling, I dropped my hands.

She glared at me. “I only knew Danny a couple of weeks before I knew he was the one. Don’t go acting like it’s a federal crime to hurt over the person you love. It’s not.”

“I don’t love him,” I protested.

Cam arched a brow.

“I don’t.” But this time, it rang hollow, even to my ears. “I can’t love him.”

That was better.

“Why not?” Cam gave me a cool look, the question so utterly logical, that it left me floundering for the right response.

“Well...he lives on the west coast. My life is here—with you. We run a business together!” I pointed out.

Cam leaned forward. No. She tried to, then grumbled as her belly got in the way. Deciding to poke me again, she said, “This is going to be a shock to you, but in this day and age, people can actually work from home. They use this funny device called a computer.”

“Smartass.”

“Tell me something.” She shifted in the chair, winced a bit, and pressed a hand to her belly. Several seconds passed before the pro kicker in her belly settled down but then she focused on me. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

“I...” Frowning, I realized I didn’t know.

I’d never told him how I felt. It was supposed to be short-term, right?

“I guess you didn’t ask, huh?” Cam sighed and moved around in her chair, grimacing as she tried to get comfortable. “Honey, you can either try to reach out and talk to him, see if he feels anything...or you need to let it go. Figure out which one will have the best chance of making you happy and do it. This thing with you living here, him living there...all of that you can talk about but find out what’s going to make you happy—and do something about it because right now, you are miserable.”

“I know that, thanks.”

“Then decide what you want.” Cam’s eyes flicked past me. “They’re on their way back. FYI? I really hope Roger isn’t what you want. I don’t like the asshole.”

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