Page 6 of Chasing Paradise

“Oh, cheer up, Vi,” she said, giving my leg a pat. “If you’re lucky, maybe he will do a quick popover in Mexico so you can get some genuine tacos before you head down to South America.”

“Yes, if I die of a venomous snake bite in the rainforest, at least I know I had a good last meal.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I hate flying,” I said as we turned into the airport forty-five minutes later.

“And now you likely have two nice, long flights ahead of you.”

“Not helping.”

“Oh, just order a stiff drink and instead of counting sheep to fall asleep, imagine counting all the money you are about to make.”

“That helps.”

“Alright. Now, go nab you that hot criminal.”

“He’s not that hot.”

“Oh, hon,” my mom said, shooting me a lowered-brow look. “He really is.”

“If you say so.”

“Try not to fall in love with him,” she said as I shoved some of the things out of my purse into my duffel.

“Right. Like that’s going to happen,” I said with an eye roll. As she rolled up to the drop-off line, I grabbed my ticket and ID.

“Hey, you never know.”

“He’s a criminal.”

“Bad boys make really good men.”

“If you say so.”

“You sound like you need to eat something.”

“And you sound like you are moments away from asking me when I’m going to give you grand babies.”

She tried to hide her guilty look.

“I wouldn’tmindgrand babies. But you would probably need to be having sex to give me one.”

“Hey, that’s…”

“Totally fair?” she asked. “You’ve been working nonstop for six months. There’s no way you’ve had any time for dating.”

“True,” I admitted, exhaling hard. “But I’m not going to be banging a skip. Let alone falling in love and having babies with one. He’s going toprison, remember?”

“Hey, at least you won’t have to trip over his clothes on the bathroom floor. Okay. You have to go. Shoot me a text when you land. And if you are hopping a plane anywhere else.”

“Will do.”

“I mean it,” she said, voice firm. “You always forget to check in.”

To be fair, it wasn’t that I forgot; I was usually just busy. Or sleeping. I could remind her that for most of her bounty-hunting career, she had no one she needed to check in with, but she would only tell me that this was different, that she had people who cared about her coming home safely.

“I will text you,” I promised.

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