Page 46 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

CASH

I’d been pacing in the international arrivals terminal for thirty minutes when I saw her. Maybe I sensed her first. Either way, my eyes were immediately drawn to her.

She came through the doors with a single carry-on over one shoulder. I smirked at the sight of her hoodie. It was covered with sequined cherries. She had on black leggings and combat boots. Her dark hair with the purple streak was in a wild mass on top of her head. She had on dark sunglasses like she was a celebrity. And that red lipstick I was so used to seeing on her. Long dangly earrings flashed in the light.

When she saw me, she smiled and waved her hand that was sporting the usual eclectic rings with bracelets stacked on her wrist. She’d packed for a transatlantic flight in under an hour and still found time to put on all her jewelry.

I didn’t know why I found that so charming. I just did.

I walked to greet her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Bag?”

“I just checked one. Didn’t have time for another and I had no idea how much I should bring.”

“How was the flight?” I asked as we made our way toward baggage claim.

“Surprisingly good. First class is a gamechanger. I slept most of the way, which is a miracle because I’m usually terrible at sleeping on planes.” She adjusted the strap of her bag. “Also, they kept bringing me food. Like, every hour. I’d barely finish one thing and they’d appear with another.”

“That’s the point.”

“I know, but it felt excessive. I’m pretty sure I ate my weight in cheese.”

I smiled despite myself. “You didn’t like the cheese?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.” She glanced up at me, those dark eyes invisible behind her sunglasses. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on? Why the urgent middle-of-the-night phone call?”

“We’ll talk in the car.”

She stopped walking. I took two more steps before I realized she wasn’t beside me anymore. I turned back.

She had her arms crossed, one hip cocked in a way that meant she wasn’t moving until she got what she wanted. “Cash.”

“Cleo.”

“You flew me to Rome on five minutes’ notice. The least you can do is give me a hint about what I’m walking into.”

She had a point. A very valid point. But I also needed time to explain this properly, and baggage claim in a busy airport wasn’t the place for it.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything in the car,” I said. “It’s complicated and I’d rather not have this conversation in public.”

I couldn’t see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but I could tell she was trying to decide if she was going to let it go.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But it better be good.”

We continued walking. Her suitcase came around the carousel quickly, bright purple with stickers covering every available surface. Of course it was. I grabbed it before she could reach for it.

“I can carry my own bag,” she said.

“I know you can.”

“So why are you carrying it?”

“Because I want to.”

She made a sound that might have been amusement or exasperation. Probably both.