And here, we have the opening of Camilla's story which is kind of a funny and pretty romantic story but probably will never be written besides in my mind.

"…No ma'am. I'll have the piece delivered out to by tomorrow at the latest." Camilla St. James said pleasantly into the phone. Her client hung up the phone and she sighed, instantly dropping her shoulders and slumping into her chair. She rubbed at her eyes, wiping away fatigue and could feel the beginning of a headache. Ever since she had opened Triquetra, she had been swamped with order upon order and they were really starting to pile up. It wasn't that she couldn't keep up with the demand her artwork had gathered. Hell, just last night she'd completed five out of the ten custom orders she had in her queue so they were just waiting to be shipped out to their new owners. As much as her ADD had given her trouble growing up, it was really starting to work in her favor now that she was older because it gave her the extra energy to get her commissions done. She just really wished she didn't have to be the one to take the pieces out because it meant she had to close the shop earlier and she lost the time that it took to make those deliveries to work on her art. It would also be nice if she didn't have to do the repairs to the house and gardens herself.

"You need to hire some help."

"Holy crap!" She jumped, flailing in her chair, hand going to her chest and turned to glare at the figure hovering in the doorway. "We've talked about this, Mrs. Pembroke."

The elderly woman just smiled at her, fondly. She sat down, primly in the chair opposite of Camilla, and fiddled with her purse. "You've been so stressed lately, my dear. I am simply worried about you. You usually can tell when I enter the room."

Camilla straightened in her seat, organizing the commission papers scattered in front of her in a fit of nervous energy and pasted a smile on her face. "I'm fine, really." She sounded fake even to her own ears but she kept going. "I know I've been getting more orders lately but I can handle it."

Mrs. Pembroke gave her a look of disbelief and Camilla sighed again, once again slumping in her chair.

"I can't afford to hire anyone right now, Mrs. Pembroke. I'm still paying off my student loans. Not to mention I'm paying for the maintenance to this house, my car payments, the store's bills, the insurance, the fune-"

Mrs. Pembroke shushed her, not unkindly. "I am aware of your financial struggles, my dear, but would it not benefit you more if you could have someone to help you around the house and perhaps deliver your wares?"

"Yes," Camilla acceded, leaning back in her chair. "But I can only pay minimum wage, at the least, and the jobs calls for too much to pay just that."

"Well," She began primly, rising from her chair. "You will just have to advertise for a worker and work out the payment with whomever applies." She disappeared into the hall and Camilla sighed, putting her face in her palm. Mrs. Pembroke wouldn't let up on her until she at least tried to get word out that she was hiring. She shuffled through some papers before sighing again and pulled out her cell phone.

"Hello, Beacon Hills Gazette? This is Camilla St. James. I'd like to put an ad in the paper."

After the last applicant thanked her hurriedly and ran for the door, Camilla dropped her head to her desk and groaned into the wood.

There hadn't been anything wrong with any of the men, except maybe a few issues with tardiness but she could deal with that. Hell, when was she ever on time? It was Mrs. Pembroke that had been wrong with them. She didn't like any of the men who came in and she made her opinion clear on each and every single one of them. Camilla groaned again.

The bell on the front door gave a jingle and she picked her head up just as Mrs. Pembroke breezed by her door and gave her a happy smile. Camilla gave her a 'WTF' face then she jumped as a very deep voice came from the front hallway.

"Hello?"

Camilla sighed and laughed at herself. "Jumping at shadows, girl." She muttered quietly then raised her voice so the man could hear her. "Be there in just a second."

She grabbed a clipboard with a request form on it and grabbed her favorite pen. It had been her first creation back in high school. It was really just a twisted piece of metal in the shape of a tree but each branch had a tube of ink in it and she was proud of it. She walked out into the hallway then turned into the living room which was doubling as the store front. A tall man, with dark hair, was there looking at a display case with a few pieces of jewelry in it. He turned as soon as she stepped onto the wooden floor.

"Hello," She said eyes widening a bit at how good-looking the man and the weird feeling of familiarity that followed it but she just told herself to be professional and smiled at him. "Welcome to Triquetra. You'll have to excuse the mess. I'm still settling in. I'm Cam. Are you here about the job?

"I'm looking for a gift." He said shortly in a deep baritone.

"Oh, okay." She nodded at him, still smiling. Gifts were her specialty. "Cool. I do all kinds of things for gifts. Those pieces right here," She pointed at the jewelry case he'd been at. "Are silver and can come as a set or you can order them by themselves. Are you looking for anything special?" She inquired, laying the clipboard down and mentally cursed as she started to babble but she couldn't stop herself once she started. "I have a few other pieces of jewelry in the back and various other metals but you can customize any design anyway you want when you fill out the form. Not that you have to fill one out, of course if you find something you like that's already out here, you can just get one of those."

"Friend's birthday." He said, not calling her on her babbling. His eyes seem to shine with amusement. "She likes silver."

"Okay," She said, circling the option on the paper. "Did you like any of the designs on the wall?" She thumbed at the poster where a few were at. "If you want a more personal one I can sketch one just for you or if you have one in mind, we can go from there."

"She likes this type of flower." He said tone going soft as pulled out his cell phone and showed her a picture of beautiful white flower. "Don't know the name of it but she always has one of these and a pink carnation on her. Thought it be nice for her to have them as a necklace."

Camilla smiled at him. This must be for his girlfriend or someone he really cares about if he's talking about her with that kind of tone. "That's okay. I know what it is. It's called a moonflower." He pulled back a bit at that but it was only because Camilla was looking at his eyes, that she saw it. "You want both of them, the moonflower and the carnation?"

He nodded and put his phone up.

"Okay," she said after they finished filling out the rest of the form. "I'll need a name and a phone number so I can notify you when the necklace is done."

"Derek, 1-867-9653*." He said, slowly so she could write it down.

She nodded then looked up and the sense of familiarity rose up again now that she knew his name. She gave him a quizzical look and he raised his eyebrow and the memories flooded back.

"Oh my god," She exclaimed smiling widely and he jerked back in surprise. She quickly toned down her enthusiasm. "You're Derek Hale. I knew I recognized you. We went to high school together."

He gave her a searching look then glanced down at her pen and his lips quirked. "Camilla St. James. You blew up our chemistry final, sophomore year."

She winced at the memory but smiled. "That wasn't entirely my fault. You measured out the compounds wrong."

"I sneezed." He said affronted.

"Which made the thing blow so I totally didn't deserve the blame for that." She quipped back pointing a finger at him.

He snorted and shook his head. "I'm pretty sure Harris hated us more than anyone else in that class."

She rolled her eyes. "He just plain hates kids. Why is he a teacher?" She smiled then looked him over again. "Well the years were good to you, Dude. How tall are you? And seriously, do you like bench-press a Semi or something? Your biceps have biceps."

"6'2, shortstop." He grinned as she let out an annoyed huff at his old nickname for her.

"I am not that short, you Sasquatch." She said, huffing again and crossing her arms over her chest.

He gave her a look and she pouted, waving her hand for him to continue.

"And, no I don't bench press a Semi." He said with an eye roll. "I work out a lot. What about you? You still running? I can finally see some muscle on you."

She punched him in the shoulder, playfully. "Hey, I'm lithe okay? I haven't had time to find a trail yet. I've been too busy trying to restore the house and gardens and delivering stuff to really do any."

His eyes widened a bit, no doubt having seen the house and grounds when he pulled up to the house. "You're doing all that by yourself?"

"Well," She thought about Mrs. Pembroke's 'attempts' at helping and smiled. "I've had some help but not much. I'm currently trying to find someone to help with the grounds and delivering stuff who doesn't mind being paid minimum wage and doesn't mind a few eccentricities."

"Eccentricities?" He asked, eye brow quirking.

Camilla opened her mouth to explain but that was the moment Mrs. Pembroke decided to make her grand appearance into the conversation. She appeared out of nowhere and propped herself near right next to Camilla.

"I much prefer this young man over those bedraggled men from earlier, Camilla. He is much more respectable and nicer looking than them."

His eyes widened again as he looked the elderly woman then back at Camilla.

"She's a-"

"Yep."

"You see her?"

"Yep."

"Which means you're a-"

"Yeah." Camilla said scratching the back of her neck, nervously then peered at him. "And you're a-?" His eyes' flashing was her answer. "Do, uh, you need, uh, a job? Because I mean, just because Mrs. Pembroke would like you to work here you don't have to if you have another job or you'd rather work somewhere else. It's a huge place and I don't even know for sure how big it is and really, the deliveries aren't that bad. Maybe like 5 a week at most. But like I said, it's totally up to if you want it or not."

"I can start Monday."

"I mean I'm sure I can find someone el-What?" Camilla squeaked as his answer caught her by surprise.

He turned to look at her. "I can start Monday, if that's okay."

"That will be wonderful." Mrs. Pembroke said, clapping in joy.

Camilla looked at Derek. "How do you feel about Ghosts?"

His chuckling was the only answer she needed.

*Top=867 Wolf=9653 so basically Derek's number is 1-top-wolf. I thought it was funny so sue me.