Flavours Of Love

Camiela's Perspective:

"Ms. Rodriguez?" The rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the computer keyboard paused as I pulled out my earphones, turning my attention to the office entrance. My head tilted, and I raised a brow inquisitively.

Olivia stood there, a friendly smile on her face. "It's getting late, and I was heading out. I thought I'd pop in and let you know."

A sigh escaped me as I stretched in my seat, checking the wall clock directly in front of me. "Oh, damn," I exclaimed, "it's seven. Has The Fortress opened already?"

She nodded. "They just opened a few minutes ago."

"Then I should drop by on my way home," I decided, rising from my chair and collecting my belongings, neatly tucking them into my purse before shutting down the computer. "Don't give them a warning," I warned with a playful finger pointed at her.

"I'm sworn to your secrecy," she teased, putting a finger to her lips.

Scoffing jokingly, I walked toward her. "Funny how you said the same thing last time. I just can't find loyalty around here, can I? First Mr. Job—"

"Our lovely janitor," she mused.

"Now my assistant. The betrayal is getting too real, Olivia," I shook my head.

"So are your extra working hours, Camiela. You run one gallery from nine in the morning to seven in the evening and then open up the other one from seven in the evening to four in the morning."

"I don't stay there until four in the morning," I explained, closing my office door and hearing the lock click before we walked down the hallway toward the elevator.

"You would if you could," she argued.

"Well, I couldn't even if I wanted to. Joke's on me," I chuckled.

"I will never understand you or your business. Who owns two galleries and runs them at alternate hours like this?" she questioned as we got in the elevator.

"Me. One for the day birds in this city and one for those who stay up all night," I shrugged, grinning. "Equality."

"Practicality," she agreed.

"And money."

"Of course, money," she chuckled with a nod.

As we reached the lobby and headed toward the exit, we went our separate ways. Olivia left, and I lingered to make sure security locked up the main gates. Crossing the empty parking lot to my black Mercedes Benz, I unlocked the car and got in the driver's seat. I locked the doors, released a quick breath, tossed my purse in the passenger seat, started the car, and played music with a soft hum. "Let's go," I mumbled to myself, buckling up and driving off to my second gallery just five minutes from the first.

The Fortress and Zion were both my galleries but entirely different. Zion was for the first half of the day, bright and light, with a polished sugarcoat on everything inside. The Fortress operated later in the day, with dark interiors, paintings hiding secrets, and nothing but silence and stolen whispers.

I parked the car in the partially busy lot and got out, tossing my keys to our valet, Jacob. "Keep those for me, Jacob," I smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned, saluting with two fingers as I walked through the gates and into the building, swiping my ID through the staff's entrance. My heels echoed on the polished marble tiles as I walked to the escalator that brought me out of the basement and to the first floor of our gallery.

Both galleries followed the same idea—each floor had a different theme.

Slowing down, I strolled through the crowds, mostly people who had come alone. Going up each floor using stairs and escalators, I reached the private elevator that only Olivia and I had access to, leading straight to my office here. Before I even got on it, my phone rang.

I've been waiting for that.

Taking my phone out, my finger tapped the back of my phone for five beats before I answered. "Dad," I greeted.

"Why haven't you left yet, Cammy?" He sighed in frustration and I could picture him pinching his nose as he paced his bedroom in his pajamas.

"I'm at work."

"It's getting late."

"It's hardly past seven, Dad. I'll be fine. You don't need to send anybody," I replied, rolling my eyes.