Page 11 of Crossing Lines

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You should be,” she clips. “As of next week, you can stop chipping in on my rent. Thanks for helping out. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Fine. Congrats on your promotion.”

She huffs and looks away, hugging herself.

I pause before asking, “Coming to dinner tomorrow? Grandma and Grandpa are leaving for their cruise on Monday.”

“No,” she mumbles. “All the family does is talk shit about me. Have fun.”

I frown. “Geez, Mom. No one does that.”

“Yeah, right.” She twists her mouth and angles her head. Something I do when being sarcastic. Considering my grandparents raised me, it’s wild how we have anything in common besides the same cinnamon tone, height, and features. “If you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of packing. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”

“Need some help?” I offer, looking around.

“I got it, thanks.”

Ever yearning for more time with her, I ask, “You sure? If you need help moving your things—”

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” She walks past me to open the door. “I’ll call you.”The next time she needs money.

“Okay.” I step into the hallway. “Take care, Mom.”

“Bye, Davia.” She shuts the door in my face.

“Sheesh.” My phone vibrates in my clutch on the way to the stairs. I take it out and answer Jamir’s call. “Hey.”

“Don’t be mad.”

This man. “If you start with that, I probably will be.”

He sighs. “I’m golfing with my boss and other execs. We’re having drinks later, so I’ll be too tired.”

“Whatever, Jamir.” I’m not in the mood to argue over being shoved aside again. “Are you coming to dinner at my grandparents tomorrow?”

“I will. Promise.”

“Mmhm.” Hanging up, I exit the building and approach my car. Glimpsing my sad reflection in the window makes me wonder when I started feeling so weighed down by my relationship.

“Ms. Designer?” My pulse spikes at the deep and sexy voice. I pivot, my spirits lifting as Kross walks over with a smile. “Nice seeing you again.”

His presence stirs the feeling of early springtime—the promise of warmth and renewal. How strange that a man I just met can swiftly change my mood and brighten my day. It makes no damn sense at all. Not when my actual man doesn’t even do that.

FOUR

The sight of Davia sparks an unexpected fire. I have no explanation for it, and she probably considers me a weirdo because I can’t stop grinning. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” She creases her forehead. “You live here?”

“Nah, I wanted to purchase one of the apartments.”

“And did you?” she inquires.

I stick my hands into my pants pockets, replying, “It didn’t work out.”

“Sorry to hear.”

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