Chapter9
Alberto froze for a beat. The name Erin wasn’t unfamiliar. He was a well- known prodigy in interior design–awards piling up before he even hit
twenty.
People lined up to throw money at him for a design, and he was famous for turning them down. Rumor had it someone once offered 3 million dollars for a single sketch, but Erin took one look at their outfit, declared them aesthetically hopeless, and kicked them out.
Notoriously talented. Infamously difficult. And now, somehow, Dora’s friend.
“No, not at all! Please, go right ahead–I’m just here for the charger,” Alberto said quickly. He ducked under the coffee table, grabbed the cable, and slipped out in a hurry, not wanting to get in the way.
The Acosta family had once been part of the upper class, and Erin knew all too well how his reputation floated through those circles. He wasn’t surprised by Alberto’s cautious deference
They didn’t say much more. Erin left to get started on the design, while Dora grabbed her documents Chris had handed her–it was time to process her transfer.
On the way out, she stopped by Chris’s workplace.
The small workshop was tucked beside the neighborhood entrance, filled with seven or eight women chatting while labeling toys.
“Mom,” Dora called from the doorway. Chris looked up, and Dora continued, “I’m heading out. Won’t be back for lunch.”
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“Alright.” Chris smiled gently, the kind of serene beauty pocts used to write about. “Come home for dinner, then?”
“Yeah. I’m in the mood for fish.”
“How about fish soup?”
“Sounds great. I’m off.”
As soon as she left, the women inside started whispering excitedly
“Chris. that pretty girl–she’s your daughter? I’ve never seen her before.”
A warm, proud look crossed Chris’s face. “She’s my second daughter.”
“Second? But I thought I saw your second daughter the other day, and she looked nothing like her?”
For a split second, Chris’s smile faltered. Then she pulled it back together and replied. “It’s a bit complicated. But yes–she’s my second daughter.”
“Oh. well, she’s gorgeous! The spitting image of you.‘
Seeing Chris’s expression shift, the others tactfully dropped the subject. Instead, they all turned to admiring the girl with cheerful compliments.
At the end of the market street, a sleek black McLaren was parked at the
curb.
Dora opened the back door and slid into the car.
The man beside her had warm eyes and a sharp, confident air. The moment he spotted her from afar, his gaze hadn’t left her.
“You really are something else,” he said, grinning. “This big of a move,
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and you only tell me now?”
Dora smiled faintly, took his hand, and casually played with his fingers- like it was something she’d done countless times before.
“You just got back. Telling you earlier wouldn’t have changed anything.”
Byron Hodges let out a soft, amused hum and teased, “So that’s how it is. Tell me then–did you miss me?”
Dora couldn’t decide whether to laugh or roll her eyes. “What do you think?”
Byron let out a theatrical sigh. “You’ve probably forgotten all about me. It’s been ages and you haven’t even reached out once. Bet you don’t even remember my name.”
“You deserve an Oscar for that drama,” she said, poking his palm with her fingertip.
Byron dropped the act and asked, more seriously, “Getting used to life at the Acosta family?”
“Not really. I barely slept last night.” Dora leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The sound of his low, calming voice helped her relax instantly. Her own voice grew soft and sleepy. “I had Erin over earlier to check out the layout. If all goes well, renovation should start the day after tomorrow.”
“Erin moves fast.” Byron paused, then added, “If you’re not sleeping well, why don’t you crash at my place tonight?”
He didn’t hear a response. Glancing down, he saw that she had already drifted off.
With a helpless smile, he asked the driver to turn up the heat a little.
2019
Chapter9
The car was filled with the faint, comforting scent of citrus from Byron’s cologne–something that always helped Dora unwind. Among the people. she was close to, she trusted him the most.
She ended up sleeping on his shoulder for two whole hours. By the time. she woke up, the car was already parked outside the administrative office.
“You’re up?” Byron was holding her hand with one of his, the other gently scratching her chin.
“Yeah,” Dora mumbled, her voice soft and a little dazed from sleep.
His hand paused mid–motion. A flush crept up the tips of his ears, and he swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.