Page 109 of For Your Eyes Only

“You’re up early,” I groan, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s after nine,farfalle.” It’s the first time he’s called mebutterflysince he’s been here. It feels right with this new opportunity in front of me.

“I can’t believe I slept so late.” I scoot higher in the bed, taking the cup.

“We need to celebrate. My work visa came, which means I’m heading back to Florida…soon.” He slides his eyes in Trip’s direction.

I take a sip of my coffee. “You’re waiting for him to leave?”

Trip rouses beside me, rubbing his eyes and looking around. “Good morning.”

Michele puts a cup of coffee under Trip’s nose. “Time to rise and shine.”

“Why yes, I’ve had enough sleep.” Trip squeezes his eyes again before opening them, and I snort a laugh.

“I need to know when you’re planning to go home. You’re well, and I got my work visa. I want to go back to Florida, but I’m not leaving you here with Gia.”

Way to lay it all out there, I think. “Misha’s worried about your intentions.”

“He hasn’t heard about Prada.” Trip tilts his head like we’re sharing a secret, which I guess we are.

I quickly fill my ex-fiancé-guard-dog in on what happened yesterday, and he hops off the bed. “Gia! That’s fantastic. You’ll go to Milan, and he’ll go… wherever.”

Michle waves his fingers towards the door.

“Misha!” I laugh. “That’s not very grateful.”

“It’s what will happen.” He lowers his brow, glaring at Trip. “Helping her is the least you can do.”

“He’s right.” Trip’s voice is even. “It’s the very least. You get ready to fly, to chase your dreams. Don’t worry about me.”

He’s letting me go, and it twists in my stomach. “Is that what you want?”

I look up at him, and he returns my gaze with so much affection, my eyes heat.

“I want everything good for you in the world.”

CHAPTER31

TRIP

This morning, Gia caught the train to Milan for her interview, and now Michele stands at the door with his suitcase in hand, headed to the airport.

“What you did for Giana was very good.” He nods, then he cuts his dark eyes up at me. “But our agreement still stands. You hurt her, and I have your permission to make you pay however I see fit.”

As if I would ever hurt her again. It’s ridiculous to think. “Does this mean I have your blessing?”

“It means she can decide what she wants, and if you hurt her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”

Good enough. “I wouldn’t fight you.”

Saying goodbye to her was harder than I expected. Her eyes were so bright with hope. She was practically floating out the door.

I watched as she carefully packed all her sketches and the costumes she designed. Over the past two days, she worked on a new sketch for a dress based on a Prada design from the 2000s, and I marveled at her creativity.

When she took my hand and thanked me, I imagined how parents must feel sending their children to school—not my parents, of course. Still, a fierce protectiveness rose in my chest, and I almost asked if I could go with her, to shield her from any criticism or office politics.

I didn’t, and she left.

---