Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(76)

“Okay. I’ve completed my analysis and have the results.” I turn toward her.

“And?” She bites her lip.

“Your designs are superior. The end. You need to start a shop, ASAP.”

She laughs. “I appreciate your kind words. It’s nice.”

“But?”

“But starting up a business is the last thing I should do.”

“Why not?”

“Well, once I go back to America, I need to pick my jobs back up. This summer has been fun and all, but reality will come knocking eventually. Brooke can’t live with some stranger subleasing my room forever.”

My stomach dips at her words. “When do you plan on leaving?”

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m still figuring out when I’ll tell Matteo about who I am.”

Can I cast my vote for never? “And if you tell him?”

“Then I guess I’ll see from there. I’ve never been much of a planner.” Her smile doesn’t fill me with its accompanying warmth.

“Have you ever considered staying here, even after you tell him? Don’t you want to stay with your dad after being apart after all this time?” My voice carries a hopeful note.

Her eyes return to her embroidery circle. She fiddles with the needle, twirling it with her fingers. “Honestly, no, I didn’t think it was even an option to live here. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I booked my ticket. But now that you bring it up, I wonder if it’s a possibility.”

“Really?” I didn’t expect her to admit that. Maybe there is some hope after all.

“I mean he’s my dad, and I don’t have many ties in America besides Brooke. I’m not saying I’d stay, but it’s not exactly a no either. Does that make sense?”

It makes a hell of a lot of sense. All I need to do is convince someone who already wants to stay that she shouldn’t leave in the first place.

Mission accepted.





33





Santiago





“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I was.” I press the button to start up the projector. The screen rolls down from the ceiling, and the lights dim on their own.

Money may not buy happiness, but it can buy moments like this with Chloe. I’ll take domestic bliss in my at-home movie theater any day over the real deal. Crowds aren’t my thing, and it’s not like I can hide my celebrity status from the world and go on a normal date.

Chloe stands from her side of the couch. “You’ve never seen Pretty in Pink? Like ever?”

“No.”

“Are you even human?”

“Unfortunately.”

She laughs and snatches the controller straight from my hands. “We must fix this.”

“Why?”

“Because that movie set my standards way too high for romance.”

Now, she has my attention. “Tell me more.”

“The whole reason I am obsessed with eighties movies in the first place is because my foster mom only had a VHS system—no cable TV.”

Well, this is a depressing start to her story.

“Brooke and I binged every tape she had over and over again. We still have a yearly marathon to this day to commemorate our childhood.”

“And what movies are your favorites?”

Her whole face lights up. “Pretty in Pink, no duh. And then The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Say Anything. I mean that scene with the boombox is one of my favorite movie scenes ever.” Her enthusiasm grows as she explains different movies I have no clue about.

I ask her questions just to hear her talk. It’s too much fun, watching her expressive face brighten every time I question something. Who knew being clueless about a topic could be this enjoyable? Chloe rolls her eyes when I make an obvious mistake and smiles when I remember a detail she shared a few minutes before.

Every damn second of the conversation is worth it.

I clear my throat. “We better get started if we ever plan on watching all these movies.”

“You want to see them?”

“Of course. I’m curious to see how someone woos a woman with a boombox outside of her house.”

“With a meaningful song, of course. Bonus points for nostalgia if you play ‘In Your Eyes.’”

“I’m mentally noting all of this.”

“Do you plan on wooing someone in the near future?”

“You never know. Someone told me wooing is important.” I grin.

She smiles to herself as she settles back onto the opposite end of the couch.

“You’re going to not only torture me with this movie but also by sitting far away? What kind of man do you take me for?”

“The kind who wants to make me happy?”

“What about my happiness?”

“Of course that’s important.”

I point to my empty side. “Then get your ass over here. I like to cuddle.”

She lets out an exaggerated huff and scoots over toward me. I place my arm on the back of the couch, giving her room to lean into me.

“A smooth guy would’ve made a move rather than forced me over here.”

“I’m crippled. Have pity on me.”