Page 107 of Love Arranged
Out of all my cars, Lily seems to be the most interested in this one, to the point of her checking out the center console, dashboard display, and glove compartment. She even asks me a few questions about the way it drives after she notices the chair cushioning her when I turn.
“Do you like it?” I ask after hitting the button that turns on her chair massager.
She delicately traces the edge of the leather seat, and for one deranged second, I’m jealous of a chair.
You’re…
No. Don’t you even think about saying it.
She looks over at me with those doe eyes of hers and nods. “It’s…fancy.”
I make a show of connecting my phone to the display—a feature her dinosaur of a car is lacking, along with blind spot sensors and a dash cam.
“Imagine not having to use a portable speaker every time you want to listen to something,” I say when music softly begins streaming through the car.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Manny told you about that?”
“He was impressed by the system you jerry-rigged.”
Her eyes fall to her lap. “I could’ve replaced the speakers, but then I would’ve had to cut back on buying clothes.”
“Who needs functioning speakers anyway?”
“Exactly. I knew you’d get it.” Her small smirk turns into a full-blown smile.
“Your dad gave you that car, right?” For some reason, I’m not ready to put the conversation to rest. When I think of Lilydriving around town in that shitty car, I get this uncomfortable tightness in my chest that is impossible to ignore.
“Yeah. He bought it for Dahlia and me to share.”
“That’s a nice gift.”
Her throat visibly tightens from her swallow. “Yeah. Money was tight, so we were surprised when he decided to get us a new car versus a used one.”
“Only the best for the people’s princess.”
She groans. “You know about that nickname?”
I smile. “Impossible not to hear it whispered whenever you walk into a room.”
She shoves my shoulder with a laugh. “Shut up. That’s so not true.”
I shrug. “If you say so…principessa?*.”
Her eyes roll.
“Not a fan? Okay. What aboutcucciola?*?”
“Immediately no.”
I choke on a laugh. “We’ll have to workshop some options.”
“I like the classics. Likebaby.Babe.Love, but only if you’re British.”
“What aboutamore mio?*?”
Her cheeks flush, and I officially have her new nickname.
As much as I want to keep the conversation light, I can’t shake the idea of her driving an old car. “Ifyour dad were here now, would he want you to be driving around in that car?”
