Chapter 2
Two
Brody
I’ve got exactly zero business falling for this girl. None. I’ve got fifty grand burning a hole in my backpack and a dad to bail out.
But she’s a breath of air, and I’ve been under water so long.
She’s got no idea who I am. Who I’m supposed to be.
To her, I’m just Brody. Some guy who chased down a thief.
And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s why I should walk her to her hotel and say goodbye. Because when she finds out who I really am, she’ll look at me differently.
They always do.
But for now, I’m happy just to be that guy as we take in the city together.
“So where are we going first?” Chloe asks, adjusting her purse strap, which she’s sort of tied to the ripped end. Her hair catches in the light, the warm brown turning almost golden before she brushes it back behind her ear.
“Hmm? Oh—” I clear my throat, pulling my mind back to the tour I’m supposed to be giving. “Sagrada Família. It’s close. Have you been?”
Chloe shakes her head. “I was supposed to go yesterday, but our flight got delayed.” She makes a face.
“And then this morning I spent three hours tracking down my sister’s lost luggage while everyone else went sightseeing.
By the time I got back to the hotel, they’d already left for the ship.
I thought I had time to do a little exploring on my own before meeting them, but… ” She gestures vaguely. “Here we are.”
I shoot her a look, one brow raised. “So you’ve been left behind twice in one trip.”
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really pathetic.” She laughs, the musical tone echoing over the cobblestones.
“I was going for impressively consistent.”
She gives me a look, still smiling, but doubtful. “That’s a generous interpretation.”
We turn down a side street, and the sun breaks through the buildings, casting bright bars of light across the cobblestones. The warmth hits my face, and I can feel sweat prickling the back of my neck under the baseball cap.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out—
Dad
WHERE ARE YOU???
—then silence it without responding.
“Important?” Chloe asks.
“Nothing that can’t wait.” I shove the phone back in my pocket, along with a pang of guilt. I wasn’t planning to be gone this long…
He’ll be okay. “Come on. This way.”
“So,” she says after a moment. “You said you know Barcelona pretty well. Have you been here before?”
“Once. For work.” Not technically a lie. “It’s a good city.”
“What kind of work?”
Danger zone. Redirect.
“Nothing interesting,” I say. “What about you? You said you’re an event planner. How’d you get into that?”
She makes this little sound—half laugh, half sigh.
“Honestly? I kind of fell into it. I’ve done a lot of things—retail, restaurant work, tried being a receptionist for about five minutes before I got so bored I thought I’d lose my mind.
But event planning…” She pauses, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m good at details. Good at making things run smoothly.
And I like making people happy, you know? ”
“Sounds like you found your thing.”
She plays with the strap of her purse, her eyes on the street below.
“Maybe. My sister got engaged last year and asked me to help plan her engagement party. It’s been going so well, and I enjoyed helping her.
So I thought, why not?” She shrugs. “I started Ever After Events, and now I’m just trying to figure out if I can actually make a living at this. ”
“Her wedding’s the big test?”
“Exactly. I figure if I can pull off a destination wedding for my sister without major disasters, maybe it’s feasible. And if I mess up…” She trails off. “Let’s just say the pressure is on.”
I can’t help it. I give her a little nudge with my elbow. “You won’t mess it up.”
She glances up, those eyes catching mine, all bright and beautiful. “You don’t know that. You’ve known me for, like, an hour.”
“An hour in which you’ve shown remarkable problem-solving skills and the ability to remain calm under pressure—”
“I literally ran screaming after a cruise ship.”
“—which shows dedication and commitment.”
She laughs, and I find myself smiling. I could get used to this.
We turn another corner, and the buildings open up slightly.
Modern glass-fronted shops appear between the older structures—a jarring contrast of centuries.
The sidewalk here is crowded with café tables, their striped umbrellas casting shadows across the pavement.
The smell of coffee hits me first, rich and dark, followed by something savory—grilled seafood, garlic, olive oil.
“So where are you from?” Chloe asks.
“I was born in North Dakota.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Really? That’s so…flat.”
“Very flat. And very cold. The winters are enough to make anyone wonder who thought it was a good idea to live there.”
“But you don’t live there anymore?”
“No. My parents moved away when I was in middle school.” When my world started falling apart. “But you know, I like to think those early years shaped me. Even in my job now, I—” I cut off abruptly, wincing.
“Ah, the mysterious work you won’t tell me about,” she muses over her shoulder.
“It’s really not that interesting.”
“See, now I’m convinced you’re a spy.”
“If I were a spy, would I tell you?”
“That’s exactly what a spy would say,” she says with mock suspicion.
“Well great, you caught me.” I toss up my hands. “Now I gotta kidnap you.”
“What?”
“You know too much.”
Chloe laughs again, stumbling as the street slopes gently downward. I reach for her elbow, steadying her, and she stills, her laughter settling into a smile. My pulse rushes. Zero business, Brody. Get ahold of yourself.
I step back, clearing my throat before gesturing onward.
“What about you?” I ask. “Where are you from?”
“Minnesota, actually. Small town you’ve never heard of.”
“Try me.”
She names a town that I absolutely have heard of—we played a charity game there two years ago—but I keep my face neutral.
“You’re right, never heard of it.”
“See? Nobody has. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.” She pauses. “What about you? What was it like growing up in North Dakota? Besides cold.”
“Quiet. A lot of space to think.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “Spent a lot of hours shooting pucks in the hockey net in my parents’ driveway.”
“Did you play in school?”
“For a while. It was something to do.” All technically true, just…edited. “What about you? Any sports?”
“Oh no. I’m what you call athletics intolerant. Trust me, you don’t want me going anywhere near a sporting event. I’ll curse the whole thing.”
I chuckle, trying to imagine this girl on the ice with me.
We’re quiet for a moment, just walking. The street is emptying out as people head indoors for dinner.
“So, your sister’s marrying a hockey player?” I ask.
She pulls in a breath. “Yeah. Derek something. I really need to remember his last name.” She laughs.
“My parents are ecstatic. They’re huge hockey fans.
Growing up, they dragged me and my sister to every game—my brother’s high school games, college games, you name it.
I spent a good chunk of my youth fighting off frostbite from the stands. ”
“So…not a fan, then?”
“Not even a little bit. I mean, I get that people love it, but to me it’s just…” She shrugs. “It’s never been my thing. And honestly, most of the hockey players I’ve met through my sister are exactly what you’d expect. Big egos, lots of swagger.”
My stomach tightens. “Maybe they’re just confident.”
“There’s a line between confident and arrogant.” She glances at me, her eyes going wide. “Oh no, you’re not a hockey guy, are you? Shoot—I feel bad.”
“No, you’re good.” I answered that maybe a little too quickly.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes.
We round another corner, and suddenly the Sagrada Família towers above us—all organic curves and soaring spires.
Chloe stops dead.
“Wow.”
Wow is right. The warm sun kisses her cheeks, highlighting those freckles, and I know—I know—I’m staring, but…this girl. She is completely herself. Completely unselfconscious, her gaze taking it all in greedily.
When was the last time I got excited about anything?
I can’t remember.
She’s still staring up, her eyes tracing each line as though she means to memorize it. “It’s wild to think Gaudí knew he’d never see it finished.”
There’s something wistful in her voice. A breeze trails a whisp of hair across her shoulder.
“You sound like you get that,” I say.
She glances at me, startled. “What?”
“Building something bigger than yourself.”
She frowns for a split second, her lips parting, considering, and then, “What about you?” She changes the subject. “What was your childhood like?”
All right, mystery girl. Keep your secrets.
“I spent a lot of time alone,” I say, careful with my answer. “My mom worked a lot. My dad wasn’t always around.” Or ever. I pause.
We start walking again, circling the cathedral. The streets around it are busy with tourists and vendors, but somehow it doesn’t feel crowded. It could be just the two of us out here, for all I care.
“If you could do anything, what would it be?” I ask after a while.
“You mean besides planning other people’s weddings?”
“Yeah.”
She’s quiet, and I can see something churning in her expression.
Her gaze travels the ancient lines of the cathedral walls.
“I don’t know. Travel, maybe? I’ve never really been anywhere…
well, except here. So…maybe not a great omen for my future travels.
” She drags her gaze away, turning it toward me. “How about you? What’s your dream?”
The question catches me off guard.
“I don’t have one,” I hear myself say.
She stops walking. “Everyone has a dream.”
“Not me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it.”
“There has to be something. Something you want that you don’t have.”
The honest answer? I want to stop feeling like I’m drowning. I want my father to get his life together. I want to be more than just the image everyone expects.