Chapter 16
May
Ava: Are you free tonight??
R oman bit back a smile when Ava’s text popped up. Over the past two months, it had taken all his self-control not to call
her every time she crossed his mind—which was frequently.
He tapped the reply box, then glanced at the time. It was just after noon on a Wednesday, which meant Ava should be at work.
And they’d never met up on a school night before.
“Is it a holiday?” he asked Camille, who sat across from him. They were working in his apartment, and even though they both
had desks in his home office, more often than not they used the dining table. The sleek and shiny wooden surface was big enough
to seat eight, but his work sessions with Camille were the only times it got any use. Roman, Dulce, and Mikayla all preferred
to eat at the kitchen’s high granite countertop, and when Roman entertained, he used one of his hotels.
Besides, the dining chairs Dulce had picked out were somehow kinder to his lower back than his outrageously expensive desk chair. And he had once again been skipping PT.
Camille squinted at him. “It’s the middle of May. What holiday would it be?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. “So your kids are in school today?”
Camille’s expression grew suspicious. “Yes...”
“Thanks.”
Roman looked at his phone again before Camille could ask a follow-up. Then he opened his calendar app. He had numerous meetings
and calls scheduled that afternoon, plus tickets for the Mets game that night. He also had an early flight the next day.
And none of it mattered, because Ava wanted to see him, and he was once again about to drop everything to be with her.
He typed back his response.
Roman: Yes. I’ll send a car.
Ava: No need. I’ll leave right after school and meet you at the Flor.
He was about to say the car could pick her up at her school, but he knew she wouldn’t go for that. Still, there was one other
thing he could do...
Roman: I have an early flight tomorrow. Come to my apartment instead.
There was a long pause, and he could guess why. So far, they’d only arranged to meet at the Dulce Flor—which, granted, he owned—but there was something a lot more intimate about inviting her to his home. And if he knew anything about Ava, it was that she shied away from intimacy.
But now that the idea of her in his apartment had taken root, he couldn’t let it go. His mom was in Puerto Rico visiting his
aunt, and his sister would be sleeping over with a school friend. It was the perfect night for Ava to come by.
Another minute passed before Ava’s reply appeared.
Ava: Okay.
Alight with anticipation, he sent her the address.
Camille was watching him closely, so he set his phone aside and went back to reviewing the redesign for Casa Donato’s dark
rum label.
“Who was that?” Camille asked, her tone full of feigned nonchalance.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said mildly, zooming in on the label to make it seem like he was working.
“You’re about to make me clear your schedule again, aren’t you?”
Sweat prickled on Roman’s back, and he refused to look at her. “What makes you say that?”
She snorted. “You want me to reveal your tells?”
Now that got his attention. “My what?”
“Every so often, out of the blue, you get this sappy look on your face, and then you tell me you’re going to be ‘busy’ for
the rest of the night.” She made air quotes with her fingers.
Roman frowned. “What do you mean, sappy ?”
“Like this.” She picked up her phone screen and mimed reading something. Then her eyebrows dipped and the corners of her mouth pulled down in an exaggerated pout, like she was gazing at an adorable puppy or something. It was an aww face. She tossed the phone back on a stack of papers and pinned him with a look that said, See? Sappy .
“I do not do that,” he scoffed.
“You do. And it’s not the face you make when you hear from your mother, your sister, or one of your few friends. I know it’s
a woman, but I’ve never seen you make that particular look before, which tells me—”
“I don’t want to know what it tells you,” he cut in grumpily. “And yes, I want you to clear my schedule for the rest of the
night.”
Camille’s lips pressed together like she was holding back a smug smile. As she reached for her laptop, she whispered, “I knew
it.”
Was he that obvious?
Apparently, yes.
A jolt of panic seared through him. How would Ava react if she noticed?
He had to play it cool tonight. Not because he wanted to, but because Ava would go running in the opposite direction if she
had any inkling that he wasn’t abiding by the “no feelings” part of their agreement. He had to keep her from finding out that
he wanted to add some strings, too, at least until he’d determined the best way to proceed. Mulling that over in the back
of his mind, he continued working.
An hour later, Mikayla stomped off the elevator and into the apartment.
A seed of unease sprouted as Roman exchanged a look with Camille. His assistant had a twenty-year-old son and two daughters aged fourteen and twelve. She could well spot a teenager in high dudgeon.
When Mikayla saw them, she marched over and flung herself into one of the empty chairs.
Roman slipped off his reading glasses and took in his sister’s creased brow and the slight pout. He kept his tone neutral
even as his pulse kicked into high gear. “What’s up?”
“My museum internship fell through,” Mikayla said, her voice wavering. “I’m supposed to start right after graduation, and
now it’s all gone to shit.”
“Why? What happened?”
She dropped her hands into her lap. “The person running the internship program is going on maternity leave, so the museum
is canceling it. They’re not even going to try to get someone else to cover it, or let us work in other areas. I’ve been signed
up for this since February. How am I going to find something else this good on such short notice?”
And then Mikayla did something that really ratcheted up Roman’s blood pressure—she dashed away a tear.
“I’ll call them,” he said immediately. “They can’t leave you in the lurch like that.”
“Oh my god, don’t you dare!” Her eyes went wide in horror. “That would be mortifying .”
“Then we’ll find you another internship. I’ll text Nigella, I’m sure she has lots of contacts—”
“No!” she screeched, covering her face. “I can’t have my big brother using his connections to find me a job. Everyone’s going
to think I’m some rich kid who gets everything handed to her.”
Roman opened his mouth to point out that this was exactly how her classmates from her expensive private school got their internships, but Camille sent him a quelling look and gave a minute shake of her head.
“All right,” Roman went on, changing tacks. “I’m sure we have lots of internship opportunities available in VQZ. Just pick
the department you want to—”
“That’s even worse!” Mikayla pressed her fingers to her temples. “You can’t just give me a job. It’s nepotism.”
Feeling helpless, Roman spread his hands. “Tell me how you want me to fix it, Mickey, and I’ll do it.”
“I don’t want you to do anything!” Mikayla snatched up her schoolbag from the floor. “Just forget it!”
Then she stormed off to her room.
Roman turned wide eyes on Camille, who started to pack up her belongings.
“I don’t understand,” he said, bewildered. “What did I do wrong?”
Camille huffed out a laugh. “You don’t pay me enough to answer that .”
Roman stared in the direction his sister had gone and replayed their conversation. He’d given her three solutions, and she’d
shot down all of them. What good was all the wealth and power he’d amassed if he couldn’t even help his sister when she was
distressed?
“Here, I got something for you,” Camille said, breaking into his thoughts.
“You didn’t have to—” He started absently, then halted as he stared at the thing Camille had pulled out of her shoulder bag.
“Wow. You really didn’t have to. What am I looking at?”
Camille stifled a laugh. “It’s a dog.”
“Are you sure?” Roman stared at the furry lump. It was covered in brown fuzz that had certainly seen better days. Black plastic eyes stared at him with a maniacal gleam. The nose was also made of black plastic and scuffed by what might have been teeth marks. Four stumpy legs and a sad little puff of a tail stuck out from the body. A ragged red paisley bandanna was tied around the thing’s neck.
“It was Amara’s,” Camille said, referring to her youngest daughter. “Go ahead, pet it.”
Raising an eyebrow, Roman patted the head of the toy dog. Even though he was expecting some kind of response, he still jumped
when it barked at him, the sound louder and more gravelly than he would have thought possible.
“Amara played with it kinda hard,” Camille admitted. “I think she did something to the voice box. If you scratch under its
chin, the tail wags.”
“You don’t say.” Against his better judgment, Roman took his eyes off the dog and narrowed them at Camille. “Why are you giving
me this?”
“Don’t want you to be lonely,” she said, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. “Since Dulce and Mickey are moving out, and you
aren’t around enough for a real pet.”
The dog barked again.
“Are you sure it’s not possessed?” Roman asked, taking it with him as he walked Camille to the elevator. “I feel like I’ve
seen this movie before.”
“I make no promises.” She pressed the button and gave him a flippant grin. “Enjoy your night off.”
Roman only grunted in response as the elevator arrived, but the dog barked again, as if saying goodbye. Camille laughed, and as the doors closed, Roman was left with a glimpse of her features contorted in the sappy expression she’d accused him of making.
Alone, he gazed down at the toy dog in his hand. There was something pleading in its bulging black eyes.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” he mumbled. The dog wagged its tail and let out a whine that sounded like gears
grinding.
With a sigh, Roman set the dog on the coffee table and went to try again with Mikayla.