“Rebellion should include blasting people from their complacency.”
“Is that what you’re planning?”
“Absolutely. Maybe you can add the lasagne to your first load upstairs. I’ll bring up your bag.” Conversation closed. What did rebellion look like for Casildo Hariri?
Why are you afraid of jinxing your dreams if you talk about them?
I made mine sound flippant in response.
That’s because I can’t imagine enough free space to make mine happen.
Bea propped the front door open, then put the food in the fridge. Casildo had left her suitcase inside the door. She rolled it into her room, then started back downstairs. He was already at the first landing. “I’ll help with the boxes.”
“No need,” he said.
She ignored him and continued down. The boxes weren’t large, but the first one was unexpectedly heavy. She passed Casildo on her way back upstairs.
“Thanks, but I’ll be right,” he repeated.
She stuck her head in the second bedroom, then the smaller room. His box sat on the floor beside a desk. She stacked hers on top, and headed back down the stairs. Casildo had two boxes this time.
“There’s only one small one left.” Casildo passed her at a run.
“Great.” This had turned into some bizarre competition. “You picked me up. I can help shift a few boxes in return.”
He grunted.
She hoisted the final box onto her hip, shut the boot, and turned toward the apartment. Casildo took the steps two at a time, reaching her side and stretching out his hands for the box. She fumbled, or he fumbled, and the box fell to the ground, the contents spilling over the pavement.
“Al’ama,” he muttered.
“What does that mean?”
“Damn.”
“I can do better than that. Hell, bloody hell, perishing hell.”
He dropped to his haunches. “It’s fine. I’ll pick them up.”
“What’s your problem?” she asked. “We’ll pick them up. Unless you’ve got a secret stash of porn under those brown paper covers. In which case, our deal is off.” She flipped a book open. “Pitfalls in Commercial Property.”
Bea’s mind raced. His father was in property development. Hunter was in property development. Did Casildo plan to join them? Emulate them? Her mind instantly rejected the idea.
You’d hate it.
“Obviously not porn.” He grabbed the book from her. Then bent, straightened the box and stacked books on top of each other.
“It might as well be.” Bea snatched the last one from the ground and pressed it into his chest. “What’s going on, Casildo?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m doing some research.” He hoisted the box and stalked toward the apartment.
She scurried behind. “We’ll talk about this upstairs.”
“You sound like Maha.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. You love Maha.” Bea waited until they were inside the apartment with the door shut. “Commercial property?”
“It’s my father’s business.”