AMARA'S POV
I brought out the last set of marble cakes. It's been a few weeks since I started working with Camilla, safe to say the older Walton was nothing like the rest of them.
She was uptight on the surface, but deep down, a tiny delicate part of her heart showed the soft gran Camilla. I placed it on the counter, and pulled out a cake knife.
“You might want to let it cool down for a few minutes,” Camilla's voice filled the kitchen, followed by the clicking sound of her boots against the marble tiles.
I clucked my tongue. “I have to go in time to get ready for the Christmas ball tomorrow.” My eyes shot up fast enough to catch a glimpse of the surprise that stretched across her face.
She rested her hands over her hips. “More reason I don't want you scalding your hands,” Her ton
