Her
first day of work arrived quickly. She had had just enough time since her
arrival in St. Claire to get some furniture, minimal though, for the house and
go shopping for new work clothes. Though she wasn’t expected in until ten that
morning, Camille was nervous and ended up arriving at the Bradford Police
Department an hour early. Outside was an interesting woman with pink hair,
talking animatedly on the phone.
“Oh,
sir, she’s here,” the woman rushed. “I’ll stop by your office later.”
The
woman approached Camille with a big, welcoming smile. “Hi there, I’m Angela
Fox, you can call me Angie. And you must be Camille. I’ve heard a lot of great
things about your skills. I’m on the forensics team here; dabble in sketches,
computer crimes, you know. Anyway, I’m here to show you around the first day
and get you acquainted. Let me take you to the chief.”
Camille
wasn’t really sure what to expect. Angie was nice, friendly, but not overly
obnoxious or pushy. Camille had been worried about needing to explain exactly
how she ended up 2,000 miles from home, working for a police department that
had actively recruited her but Angie didn’t seem interested in the details. If
she was, she was going to let Camille explain it on her own and Camille could
appreciate that.
Her
meeting with the boss went less well than expected. She had thought she was
coming on to be a computer analyst. That’s what the Detective Dieterich had
made it sound like. Unfortunately, the police chief had different ideas.
“A
computer analyst? I need another one of those like I need a hole in the head,”
he barked at her. “That damnable TV program has made forensics seem like a
glamorous job and I’ve got wannabe techs crawling around here like maggots on a
body.”
“This guy really likes his analogies,”
she thought with a raised eyebrow. She tried to smother her urge to laugh as he
didn’t seem like the kind of man to appreciate jokes.
“What I
need is for you to work out in the streets. Pick up clues, watch people, all
that fun stuff. Be observant and report back here with your findings.” He slid
a box bag across the table to her. “Wear this; you’ll look the part.”
She
opened the bag the next day and was dismayed at what she found. She caught her
ride and marched straight into the Chief Randall’s office.
“You’ve
got to be kidding me! I look like a damn prostitute,” she raised her voice.
“Of
course you do. You think you’re going to get tips and hear things on the street
dressed like a nun?” He rolled his eyes and waved her out of his office. “Watcher,
young kids these days. Think it’s all fun and no hard work. I need to retire,”
she could hear him muttering under his breath as she took a deep breath and
marched out for her first day on the job.
‘Working
the streets’ was hard work indeed. She had to wear the most ridiculous shoes,
not practical for work at all and she had to wander the streets hoping that
someone would somehow confide in her. Whoever thought that baring your deepest
secrets to a prostitute was covered under client confidentiality laws deserved
to be arrested. Not that anyone was biting lately anyway.
She
worked out all her frustrations on runs before or after work. She usually liked
to run in the mornings, before the heat index rose but some days the evenings
were so nice she couldn’t help but throw on her shoes and go out. As usual, she
started in her neighborhood, jogging through the nice homes, past the perfect
white picket fences. The idyllic homes and grinning children playing in the
yards made her internal cynic grit its teeth. She’d had a pretty perfect life
until she made friends with one wrong person.
So deep
in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that she had run halfway across town until
she came about two inches from running into a man on the sidewalk.
“You
look like you have some place to be in a hurry,” he jested.
“Oh, I’m
so sorry! I wasn’t paying any attention.”
“It’s my
lucky day when a beautiful woman almost runs me over and then wants to make it
up to me. I’m Joshua,” he introduced himself.
“I’m Cam
but really, I do have somewhere to be. Rain check?” she asked and quickly
excused herself, jogging off before he could press for more information.
“Avendale!
Get in here,” Chief Randall could be heard yelling from his office.
“Sir?”
“I need
you to work harder.”
“Sir, I
am busting my ass out there. No one is biting,” she tried explaining.
“Then
you’re not busting it hard enough. Here, go meet Sylie. She’s a contractor for
the department. She’ll teach you some charm which you seem to be lacking.”
“With all
due respect, sir,” Camille emphasized the ‘sir’ part, “I have plenty charm. You
asked me to walk to the streets. I’m walking them. Unless you want me to
actually become a prostitute, I don’t think looking pretty is going to get
anyone’s lips loose.”
“Did I
ask for excuses? Go! Now,” he stood, pointing at the door. She rolled her eyes
and set off to meet this Sylie person at the rotunda down the street.
“Camille,”
a young, smart looking woman approached her in the park.
“Sylie I
presume?”
“Yes,
it’s good to meet you.”
“So, um,
charm school?”
Sylie
laughed. “Chief Randall can be a bit of a hard ass, can’t he? I’m actually a
friend of his from some classes he took down at the university. I think he
thinks you’re working too hard.”
Camille
raised an eyebrow.
“Eric’s
not a bad guy. He doesn’t really do feelings though. Very logical and rational,
that one. Anyway, he thinks you’ve been putting in too long hours and he wanted
you to get out and make a friend or two. I hear that he has a partner in mind
for you too.”
“Well, I
guess since I’m here, we might as well talk.” Camille wasn’t looking forward to
having forced friends. She didn’t really want friends at all, not after the
last debacle she had gotten herself into. The thought of having a partner was
also unwelcome. She worked best alone. However, a couple hours into the
conversation, Camille realized that Sylie was a genuinely nice person and they
actually had some things in common. Maybe having a friend wouldn’t be such a
bad thing after all.
“Camille,
it was lovely meeting you. I’ve got to head home, work is early tomorrow and my
bed is calling.” They exchanged phone numbers and said their goodbyes.
As
Camille walked to the subway, she thought she saw a familiar face out of the
corner of her eye. “It can’t be! Craig, here?” She turned to get a closer glimpse of
the man but, like that, he was gone. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her.
Maybe she was just seeing ghosts in strangers. It couldn’t have been him.
The next
day, she was out walking the streets again when she ran into Joshua. At least
it wasn’t literal this time.
“Hi
there, nice to see you again,” she greeted him, trying to be more friendly.
“Oh, um,
hi there,” he replied awkwardly. “Look, I’m a high school teacher, I’m not interested
in your, um, services.”
“What?”
Her temper flared. Just when she starts trying to be nice to people…Oh.
Understanding flashed. “I’m, how do I explain this? I’m not a prostitute. She
realized that explaining that she worked for the police department, right there
on the open street probably wouldn’t be a good idea and might actually even
blow her cover.
Luckily,
he didn’t ask her to explain. He nodded and smiled. “Well then Camille, it was
nice to see you. My apologies. I’d like to see you sometime. Call me?” He
handed her a card with his number. Dating someone was the last thing on her
mind but she smiled and tucked the card away anyway.
“Oh my
Watcher, Camille Avendale!” A perky, blonde woman approached her that weekend
at the laundromat.
“I’m sorry.
Do we know each other?”
“Not
yet. I’m Pearl, your new partner. Chief Randall told me about you but I didn’t
think we’d meet until Monday! Who knew that we used the same laundromat,” she
chirped.
“Right.
Who knew? I’m not really int…”
“Oh, I
know! Let’s go get some lunch at the coffee shop down the street. I heard it
was really good!”
Camille
felt her control slipping away. This little ball of energy didn’t appear that
she wasn’t going to give her much of a choice.
With the
clothes in the dryer, Camille agreed to a quick lunch. She knew that she
couldn’t feign other plans, what with her needing to wait on the clothes so it
would be best to just get this over with.
“Oh my,
this place is awesome. I love all the bright colors, don’t you?”
Camille
just drank her coffee, not needing to contribute to the conversation at all as
Pearl chattered away on her own. She made her way over to one of the couches by
the window, tuning out most of what her partner was saying.
“Hey,
did you hear me? I asked if you liked St. Claire so far? Maybe we can go around
and see the sights? Oooh, we could rent bikes and peddle through the downtown
district!”
“Look
Pearl, first, we don’t need stripper names for our job. It’s like playing
dress-up, no real stuff involved so a fake name isn’t necessary. Second, I’m
not interested in friends, and I don’t need a partner. If I don’t have a
choice, so be it but we’re not going to be BFFs.”
“Alright
Rude Ruth, no need for attitude. First, Pearl IS my real name. It’s a long
story but, since you don’t want to be friends, you won’t care anyway. Second,
since we have to work together, I figured it would be better to get along.
You’ve got your reasons for doing this job and I have mine but that doesn’t
mean you have to be an ice princess. I’ll see you Monday.”
With
that, Pearl stood, tossed some simoleans on their table and left without
looking back. Camille sighed to herself. “What
is wrong with me?”
She
walked back over to the laundromat, got her clothes and walked home with her basket.
Entering the front door, for the first time since coming to grips with her
entire situation, Camille wanted company tonight. She set the basket down and
headed for the nearest bar.
She sat,
listening to the music and enjoying the feel of the shillelagh as it warmed its
way down her throat.
“Hey
there Ian,” the bartender greeted what must be a regular. Ian sat down next to
her and she could feel his eyes on her.
“You
must be new in town,” he grinned at her.
“Why do
you say that,” Camille countered.
“With
hair that color and a body that hot, I don’t think I’d forget seeing you.” He
signaled to the bartender. “Another of what she has and a tombstone topper for
me.”
Surprisingly,
Camille found herself having a good time. Of course, that could have been the
drinks talking. She was on number three, or wait, was it four now?
“Let’s
dance,” he said, pulling her to her feet. Both brought their drinks to the
floor and swayed to the music. She wasn’t sure what was playing but she liked
it. And she liked him. Those eyes were so blue. He didn’t push for her number,
he didn’t ask any questions about herself or where she had come from. He didn’t
offer any information about himself either so all she knew was that he had a
sexy ass and was a decent dancer.
“Like
what you see,” he leaned in, whispering in her ear.
Camille
realized that he had caught her staring as she imagined what he looked like
without clothes. The alcohol made her more brazen than usual but she surprised
herself when she responded, “I think I do. Though I might need a better look to
be sure,” and then leaning in to nibble on his ear, just a bit.
They
made their way outside and found a cab to take them back to her place. The
short ride was fraught with sexual tension and Camille was sure that the cab
driver was enjoying the makeout show in the backseat. She quickly unlocked her
front door and, as she pushed it open, he spun her around, pushing her against
the wall, tangling his hand in her hair and kicking the door closed with his
foot. She struggled to slid his jacket off his arms without breaking contact.
They
made it as far as her living room couch, leaving a trail of clothes in their
wake. Camille savored the feel of his skin on hers and pulled Ian closer,
wrapping her legs around his waist.
When
they had finished, Camille slid off the couch, pulling Ian with her. “I’ll call
you,” she said, with a gentle touch to his cheek and blasé kiss, signaling that
it was time for him to leave. He got the hint and quickly dressed, not
bothering to ask how or stop to jot down his number.
“I’m
engaged,” Sylie phoned Camille with the news, sounding out of breath with
excitement.
“Sy,
that’s great,” Camille worked really hard at sounding enthused. Between Brielyn’s
father, her own dad, and Lyric, Camille’s views on committed relationships and
marriage wasn’t pleasant but she wasn’t about to ruin her friend’s happiness
because of it.
“We’re
having an engagement party this weekend, do you think you can make it?”
“Sure, I’d
love to help you celebrate.”
She
arrived at the party in a new black dress. Sylie had hinted that there was
someone she wanted Camille to meet so a shopping trip had been in order.
“I’m so
glad you made it,” Sylie gushed, the glow of her engagement apparent in her
face. Danny seemed like a great guy and Sylie’s joy rubbed off on Camille, even
against her nature.
“I’m so
happy for you both. Thank you for including me.”
The
doorbell rang at that moment and Danny went to answer it. “Oh, that might be
the guy I’d like you to meet. Danny knows him through work. He’s really cute,”
she winked.
Camille
looked over, interested to see who Sylie might have set her up with to see Ian
standing in the doorway. She fought the groan that threatened to escape her
lips. No need to insult her friend due to her own one night stand with the guy.
“Time to go play nice,” she smiled
through a sigh.
Sylie
introduced the two of them before leaving them alone to get to know each other
better.
“Well,
don’t you look nice. Disappointed in your hot date,” he quipped.
“Don’t
be hurt. I’m just not interested in a relationship.”
She
waited for him to counter or try to convince her to give him a chance but, to
his credit he didn’t say anything. He just raised his eyebrow and gave her a
look before smiling over her shoulder to another guest.
Camille
leaned in and gave him a last kiss, there in front of the rest of the party.
She couldn’t help herself. Sylie was at least right in that regard; he was really cute. The rest of the party
went by really well and she had a great time getting to know Danny. Finally,
around midnight, she ducked out and headed home, considering it a well spent
evening.
The next
day after work, Camille decided to walk home and enjoy the nice weather. As she
was passing some local shops, she thought she recognized another face.
“What the hell? I can’t be imagining this.”
And another long absence from me. I really apologize for that. I realized about a week in to St. Claire that my game had gotten incredibly borked in the move. Poor, dead Verne reset to teen, the triplets were aged back down to toddlers, Yalena was a teen again...it was just a mess. I tried a lot to fix it but ended up having to save all my sims to the bin, start a brand new save, plop them all in Storybrook, remake all the family ties with Master Controller and then start the story line over. Good news, now it's fixed and it's a fresh save so it should save me for awhile. I lost a few people in the family tree from the "move", namely Tanner + spouse and kid, Carrie, and Vesper's spouse and kid. I think I can live without them though as they shouldn't affect genetics in any way.
So, I am back! Hopefully with another chapter sooner than this one was!
