Page 33 of Delivered in White

Clk!

Trino’s door opens, and he finally emerges.

I wipe my face free of tears so he doesn’t see, but he does.

“Still pouting about my little plan?” He walks up to me, judging me.

“Did you have a nice laugh with your friends on the phone?”

“The hell are you talking about? I was prepping the business managers for tonight’s events.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Not everyone has a nice little family, Capri. I feed the other side.”

I fidget in my seat and kick him accidently, my bare foot rubbing against his leg. It makes him look down to the dress.

“Did you think of a name? Your shift starts at ten.”

I shake my head. “Just leave me here. I’ll take my chances and hide in a closet if I have to.”

He crouches down so we’re eye-to-eye. “I’m going to protect you.”

My heart skips a beat. There’s sincerity in his voice. And he’s not just saying it – he’s led by action for two days straight.

“But—you’re going to have to trust me. Even if it means stepping outside your comfort zone.”

My shoulders slump and I look away in defeat.

Am I really going to do this?

“Misty,” I say.

“What?”

“That’s my stage name. Take it or leave it.”

He smiles fully for the first time. God, he’s handsome. Is that… a dimple? He’s got a freakin’ dimple? How cute is that? And all his chiseled features are exposed when his pearly whites are showing. It’s kind of sick that me posing as a stripper is the only way to get him happy. Probably equally as sick as me mentally pasting his beautiful face on faux wedding pictures in my mind.

Oh, just kill me already.

“I’m going to pick up food at Stinginos. What can I get you?”

“Oh, you can leave me for that—”

“I’ll be gone all of five minutes.What do you want?”

“Spaghetti bolognese,” I mutter. “Side of shrimp cocktail.”

He grunts and stands.

“What?” I ask.

“Big girl at heart.”

“Hey!”I kick him on purpose this time. Then I get up and smack his arm. I like touching him, even if it’s quick and catty. Is it bad that I’d wish he’d catch my hand and just kiss me right here?

But he doesn’t. He just pushes me back into my seat with one finger and grabs his keys from the table.

---