Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(62)

My chest throbs. The churning in my stomach intensifies, acid crawling up my throat, ready to purge itself from my trembling body.

Before I can stop myself, I offer an olive branch. A stupid olive branch I know I’ll regret but can’t take back.

“If you want to be friends—real friends—you can’t manhandle me like that anymore.”

His face remains unreadable. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”

“Ehh, I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Because the only other friend you have in town is my five-year-old daughter, and frankly, that’s kind of sad.”

The look on his face widens the pit in my stomach. “I don’t need a pity friend.”

“Too bad. It’s a bribe-one-get-one Castillo special.”

A real smile forms on his face, casting away the shadows in his eyes. “Does that mean you’ll help build the boat with us?” His excitement is addictive, and I find myself saying yes. I expect the regret to be imminent, but instead, I only notice a tingly feeling in my chest at the idea of building something special with Cami and Cal.

Maybe an activity like that will be good for us. Maybe we can get closure and move on from all the crap that has been brewing at the surface for the last six years.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer before taking another step back. “I should get going. We have an early morning with the contractor tomorrow.”

I blink twice before regaining sensation in my limbs. “Right.”

He passes me the bag with the vase before walking back to his car. I’m so distracted by watching him leave that I don’t notice the second bag on the porch until he is driving toward the main road.

I walk inside the house and place the first bag on top of the empty table below the stairs before going back out to grab the other.

“What the hell is this?” I grunt from the weight. My arms tremble as I deposit it on the floor beside the table.

First, I unwrap the vase. It’s simple, elegant, and exactly something my mom would have chosen for herself. The second bag surprises me. I kneel on the floor and pull out a wrapped cube. A white envelope is taped to the top of the wrapping paper, and I cut through it with my fingernail before pulling out a card.

Maybe you were right about wanting to make someone else’s dreams come true.

-C





With shaky fingers, I peel apart the wrapping paper to reveal a professional mixer. I recognize the brand as one that belonged in my never going to happen but might as well torture myself with looking at it list.

My eyes fill with tears. It’s not about the mixer itself, but the meaning behind it that turns me inside out.

I reread the card again, and the butterflies in my stomach rage and riot even harder the second time. The feeling has nothing to do with the urge to bake until two a.m. tonight and everything to do with the man who gave me the rush in the first place.

Before I chicken out, I pull out my phone and shoot Cal a text.

Thank you for the mixer.





Cal



Thank me by making my favorite.





Deal.





I go to bed with the stupidest smile on my face that night, feeling better than I have in weeks.





25





ALANA





I wake up the next morning excited and ready to meet with the contractor. Now that things with Cal seem to be settled, I feel more ready to work with him on the house.

I breeze through the morning routine with enough energy to rival Cami. Her enthusiasm about starting summer camp rubs off on me, and we spend the entire car ride blasting her favorite song from the latest Dreamland princess movie.

I gave up on my battle against the Kanes and their fairytale empire ages ago. It was a pointless fight, especially when all of Cami’s friends are obsessed with Dreamland and their princess movies. Even I have to admit the films are pretty cute, although Cami and I both agree it would be nice for them to have a movie about someone from Colombia. Bonus points if they’re from Barranquilla like my family.

By the time I arrive back at the house, my mood can’t get any better.

“What has you smiling like that?” Cal peeks into the kitchen.

I drop the pan I was cleaning back into the sudsy water and shut off the music streaming from the portable speaker on the counter. “It’s the first day of summer.”

“Congratulations. What do you plan on doing first?”

I motion toward the dishes. “I need to finish this up before the contractor gets here.”

He begins to roll up the sleeves of his linen shirt, revealing his thick forearms. “How about I dry while you wash?”

I look up from his arms. “Why?”

“Because I finished up the attic, and I don’t have anything else to do before the contractor gets here.”

“You finished that attic already?”

“Yup.” He grabs a towel hanging on the oven and throws it over his shoulder before turning toward me.

I can’t help smiling at him. “Domesticity looks good on you.”

His lips twitch. “Maybe Iris was on to something.”

My spine stiffens. Who the hell is Iris?