Page 12 of A Princess for Christmas

Gabby was almost done with her pasta, Dani had demolished a big salad—they always brought their own dinners to Thursday-night K-drama—and Leo was eating random bits of leftovers from the fridge at his place.

“You guys done?” Dani paused the show. “Ice cream time?”

“Yes!” Gabby said. “What kind?”

“I have Half Baked, Triple Caramel Crunch, and”—she made a face at Leo—“Vanilla.”

Gabby and Dani shared an affection for ice cream with tons of crap in it, and they both mocked Leo for his simple tastes.

“You are soboring, Leo!” Gabby said.

“I don’t like stuff in my ice cream!” he protested. “You can’t even taste the ice cream through all the texture in yours! Is it ice cream or trail mix?”

Dani served Gabby a huge bowl that was half of each of thecrazy flavors and gave herself a small serving of each. Then she emptied nearly the entire pint of vanilla into Leo’s bowl and began scooping hot fudge she’d heated in the microwave onto it.

Leo used to protest the elaborate ice cream course that always followed their Thursday-night dinners—those pints of fancy ice cream were pricey. And when that didn’t work, he tried to bring his own grocery-store-brand vanilla, insisting that his taste buds didn’t know the difference. But Dani wouldn’t hear of it. She just kept serving him Häagen-Dazs Vanilla Bean topped with hot fudge that came from a mason jar with a cutesy, hand-lettered label on it that almost certainly came from one of the bullshit new shops in an area a little south of here that idiot gentrifiers persisted in calling “SoBro.”

Eventually, Leo had stopped protesting the ice cream situation. He’d been worn down by Dani’s cheerful stubbornness, her fancy hot fudge, and her Korean dramas.

“Thanks,” he said as Dani slid him his bowl. Then he said it again. He had no idea why. “Thanks.”

Dani must have known why, though, because instead of giving him shit, which was their usual mode of expressing their friendship, she tilted her head, looked at Leo for long enough to make him uncomfortable, and said, “You’re welcome.”

Leo was, officially, the super of this building, but without a doubt the real caretaker of his little family of two was Daniela Martinez. His second-cousin-in-law. Soon to beexsecond-cousin-in-law—just as soon as she managed to finally get rid of her shitty estranged husband. About the only thing Leo’s second cousin Vince had going for him was that it was through him they’d met Dani. It had been Dani who’d pulled strings not only to get Leo and Gabby a placein the building, once it became clear that they weren’t going to be able to hang on to the family house, but to arrange the super gig to help them afford it.

He owed her so much, it made his throat hurt.

“So what’s with this robot?” he asked, settling in to his role as K-drama skeptic. Their latest show was bonkers. “Is she actually a robot?” He was guilty of not having paid one hundredpercent attention. The subtitles on this one were small, and his brain was tired. It kept zooming back to... pink ribbons.

“Well, she’s pretending to be a robot, but thereisactually a robot, too,” Gabby said.

“Imagine the love triangles that could ensue!” Dani said.

Gabby and Dani high-fived. The two of them were romantics, though Dani, whose horrific divorce-in-progress had inspired her to swear off love, would never admit it.

“Leo’s going to hate that!” Gabby said gleefully.

Whatever had made Leo add that weird, extra thank-you to Dani squeezed on his chest again, making it hard to take a full, deep breath. He lived for Thursday nights—for this. For unstructured time with his sister and their neighbor. Leo could make good money if he’d wanted to drive Thursday nights. And Gabby and Dani didn’t need him for their soap operas. But these nights had come to mean everything to him. On Thursday nights, they kicked back, joked, and ate ice cream. On Thursday nights, he stopped worrying—temporarily.

He even liked the shows they watched, though he pretended not to because it amused the other two. Their current was calledI Am Not a Robot. It was ridiculous. But he was sucked right in to the tale of the boy who was allergic to skin contact and the girl whowas pretending to be a robot, or . . . something. He needed to start paying attention to this episode, or he was going to get left behind.

“Tell me again about the princess!” Dani commanded when the episode was over, and that was all it took to set Gabby off. She gestured wildly as she retold the tale of their afternoon adventure.

Leo’s chest was still doing that squeezing thing. This was not how he had ever foreseen his life turning out. For so long after his parents died, he had been focused on what he had lost—his parents, college, his carefree youth. His existence had become about stanching the bleeding the accident had caused in their lives. About surviving and making sure Gabby not only survived, but thrived. Dani had been part of that first aid kit, initially. She still was. But now she was a true friend, too. A best friend, though they didn’t talk about their relationship in those terms. They didn’t talk about their relationship at all, which Leo frankly appreciated.

The point was, as hard as the past two years had been, he and Gabby were lucky. They had each other. They had Dani.

They had their ridiculous Korean soap operas and objectionably elaborate ice cream.

He remained uncharacteristically sentimental as the evening wound down. It wasn’t until after he’d tucked Gabby in that Leo remembered they’d forgotten to stop for her... supplies.

Dammit.Just when he was feeling like he had things moderately under control.

“Kiddo,” he whispered. He’d been sitting on a chair next to her bed. On nights he wasn’t driving, she liked him to sit with her while she fell asleep. Though she was probably too old for that, he indulged her. She’d had nightmares after the accident, and this was such an easy thing to give her. It didn’t cost anything. Andit was good forhimto sit there after she fell asleep and listen to her steady, strong breathing, surrounded by her girlish clutter. It reminded him what was important.

She wasn’t quite asleep yet tonight, which was the only reason he’d spoken to her.

“Hmm?” She sighed. She was so sleepy.

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