“Alright, take my card. Get the haircut you want, and I will be back in an hour to pick you up. Ask for Helen and say I sent you. She will clear her schedule, I assure you,” I say, and Chiara crosses her arms in front of her chest with amusement on her lips.
“Someone’s full of himself,” she replies, and I cock an eyebrow.
“When you’re as well-known and charming as me, you get to be full of yourself,” I say, hand her my card, and make my way back to my car. I have some calls I need to make and don’t have the patience to carry around seven bags until Chiara is finished at her appointment.
* * *
Graham soundedgreat when I spoke to him on the phone five minutes ago. We’ve made it a habit to speak at least every other day. Ever since he arrived in New York where his friend lives, he’s sounded like a new person. Happier. Healthier. Hungover too. Two days ago, he called me with a massive headache. I almost laughed at how much he had to turn down the volume on his phone but then couldn’t hear a bloody word I was saying. It was one of the most entertaining conversations I’ve ever had.
At the same time, all I could think about was not telling him Starling moved in with me yesterday. She hasn’t shared anything with him yet, and I don’t think it’s my place to get between them, even if Graham is my brother. He’s closer with Chiara than he is with me, so telling him she packed her things and will be my roommate for the next six months isn’t my story to share. Nor is the fact that the little demon will be working for me this season, even if I feel guilty.
After calling my brother, I spend some time on the phone with Quinn. She and I discuss everything about the upcoming race weekend in France. We also talk about logistics concerning Chiara and Benz, and she lets me know where both of them can stay during the free practices, Qualifying, and the actual race. Knowing Quinn is helping me make all of this happen settles my worries a little.
Once I’ve called everyone I had to, I make my way back to Helen’s. It’s been an hour since I first dropped Chiara there, and I’m dying to see what she’s done to her hair. A shudder runs down my spine becauseI’m dying to know what she’s done to her hair. Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking screwed, I don’t even know when I’m lying to myself anymore. I don’t know when I’m in complete denial.
I have no clue how I really feel about Chiara, do I?
Starling is already standing outside when I get back, squatting next to a bench where something is sitting. The closer I get, the clearer it becomes. She’s looking at a little starling bird, smiling like one of those little shits didn’t fly on her head and scare the hell out of her when we were younger. But she’s smiling. Chiara is giving the world one of her very rare smiles, and I can’t help but soak it up for a moment, especially because her new hair is only shoulder-length and absolutely stunning. God. I might have to sit down.
“Leonard?” she asks and walks toward me. I look at my legs and realise I’ve actually collapsed onto one of the benches. Shit. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, bloody perfect, actually,” I lie, staring at her face, which is fully on display for me now. Her long hair was hiding it more from the world, but this? This cut is highlighting her soft features, her pouty lips, her sharp nose, and green eyes.
“Are you sure? You don’t look well,” she says and plants the back of her hand on my forehead, checking my temperature. I take her hand to remove it from my face because it’s only making my head fuzzier.
“I’m fine. Let’s go,” I say, my tone harsh and cold.
“Okay,” is all she replies, her fingers twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.
She just made a big change to her hairstyle, and I haven’t said anything nice about it. I’m a fucking idiot. I stop abruptly, holding her back too, and then grab her shoulders before opening my mouth to say something I would have never said to her half a year ago.
“You look beautiful.” Her eyes go wide in response to my words, and then Chiara blushes. Her cheeks turn a deep red, and my breathing hitches in response.
“Thank you,” she says and digs around in her pocket for a moment. She takes out my card and slides it into the pocket of my pants, causing me to hiss out a breath as my body goes into full arousal mode. “For everything,” she adds before walking away.
This woman is pure danger.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
chiara
Leonard said I looked beautiful. It happened three days ago, but I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Today is my last day at the bookstore, which should be the only thing roaming around in my mind. But of course not because I can’t stop thinking about the man who doesn’t like me saying that I looked beautiful.
“Are you alright,bella? Your cheeks are a bright red,” Susie says, and I lift my hands to feel the heat radiating off them.
“No, yeah, I’m fine,” I blurt out and focus on shelving the new stock.
One of my favorite authors released special cover editions of my favorite series in the entire world, so I’m secretly hoping there will be a book in each of these boxes that is too broken to be sold. I would take it in a heartbeat. Along with the other hundred on my list of books I still want to read but can’t afford.
“I’m going to miss you,” Susie says once I’ve finished unpacking one box. I turn to her, the corners of my mouth pulling down.
“I will miss you, too. Thank you for all the opportunities you’ve given me. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” I admit and step toward her, bringing my hand to her arm and squeezing it.
“You’re most welcome. You’re not only the best employee I’ve ever had, but you’re also my friend, and I hope we can grab coffee sometime soon,” she says, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I give in, placing my hands on her back and giving her a slight squeeze.
“I would like that.”
Our moment is interrupted by the front door opening. My body goes rigid in response. It’s been having the same reaction since Tim first walked into the bookstore, which is why I let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of Leonard.Wait. Leonard?
