Page 138 of The Re-Proposal

I sigh, noting his serious expression. Before answering, I consider things from his point of view. The kid’s had a hard life. Living with a heart condition isn’t fun. His mom’s dead. His father left him. Even so, he pushed through and isn’t constantly whining about how hard he has it. Joel’s a good kid and, although he gets on my nerves sometimes, I don’t mind having him around.

“We’re family, Joel.”

There’s a flash of vulnerability before a cocky smirk crosses his face. “Does that mean I’ll get some of your money when you die?”

I turn back to my slightly scorched scrambled eggs. “Make your own money.”

“How? Anddon’tsay by working hard.” He puts the bread in the toaster.

“You’re thinking about it all wrong. Money doesn’t follow hard work. Money follows the person who solves a problem. The more problems you solve, the more people who pay you for those solutions, the more money loves you.” I bring three plates to the table. “I don’t feel sorry for you, Joel. So don’t feel sorry for yourself either. On top of a different perspective, you’ve got the power of being underestimated.” I meet his eyes. “Use it.”

He chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully.

The toast pops.

“Hey,” Joel mumbles, “why are there three plates? Isn’t it just the two of us?”

“Morning.” Clarissa patters into the kitchen like a beam of sunshine.

My grip on the toast loosens. Thankfully, it drops on the counter rather than the floor.

Sweet mercy.I’d pay a billion dollars for the privilege of hearing Clarissa Maura wish me good morning in my kitchen every day.

Joel’s eyes narrow when he sees that Clarissa arrived from my bedroom. His gaze tracks over her jeans and T-shirt. It’s the same outfit she was wearing earlier.

I ignore his pointed look. “Morning. Did the alarm wake you?”

“No, it didn’t.” She smiles at Joel. “The delicious smells coming from the kitchen did.” Her eyes sweep to mine. There’s a hint of accusation there. “My alarm didn’t sound at all.”

“I was going to wake you. I just wanted you to get some extra sleep.”

“Hm.” She frowns at me.

“Sit.” I set sizzling bacon into a plate and offer it to her. “You still like bacon?”

“No.” She pushes the plate down.

“Me either,” Joel protests. The kid’s a liar. He was drooling over that bacon while I cooked it.

I tilt my head, studying her. She’s cute with her frizzy hair and her face puffy from sleep. Forget eggs and bacon. I’m full just watching her.

Clarissa clears her throat and nibbles on a piece of toast, ignoring my inspection.

The doorbell rings.

“Who’s that?” Clarissa asks.

“Mimi.”

“Why did you call Mimi?”

I wink.

“Cody…” Her voice has a scolding edge.

“She’s dropping off a suit for an event tonight.” I walk backward while explaining.

“And what else?” Clarissa knows me too well.

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