Page 17 of The Layover

7

Raul

Lee—Carly— didn’t look happy.

I wasn’t sure why not. When we left her in Philadelphia, she was all smiles and flirting and sweetness. It wasn’t as if I’d used some sort of pick-up line on her when she approached us just now.

To find out we were about to spend a lot more time with her had my blood heated and my imagination racing. This was going to be an incredible few weeks of fun mixed with work.

“Our things are already in the car.” Diego reached for her bags. “We can be on our way.”

She stepped away. “You lied to me about your names.”

Was she serious? “It wasn’t a lie, Lee. Those are names we use all the time when we travel.”

“And to pick up women,” she said.

“You gave us a fake name too.” Diego nodded at our driver, who stepped in and grabbed her luggage.

She didn’t stop him, but her scowl stayed in place. “That’s what my sister calls me.”

“And men you don’t want following you home.” I didn’t have a problem with the alternates—obviously—but her attitude felt undeserved.

“It’s different.” Carly didn’t sound like she believed her own words.

It wasn’t different at all. “You did it for anonymity and we did the same. We should get going.” I gestured toward the exit.

Carly clenched her jaw—at least her stubbornness had been real. “Fine.” She fell into step beside us.

Her scowl stayed in place as we stashed her luggage next to ours in the trunk. I held the front passenger door open for her, and she slid in with a tight thank you.

“We’ll drop you off at your hotel, so you can check in, then meet you at the building location,” I said when Diego and I were settled in the back seat.

“Sounds good.”

“Are we really going to do this?” I wasn’t interested in a tension-filled few weeks just because of a few swapped nicknames.

Carly looked over her shoulder at me. “We’re not doing anything.” Her tone softened. “And that’s the point. Lee had a lot of fun in Philadelphia, but I’m here on business. The only thing we’re doing is business.”

“As you wish,” Diego said.

I simply nodded. We’d see how long her resolve held up, but not here and now.

We were halfway to Carly’s hotel when Diego’s phone rang. He showed me the screen, which had Home and Eloise’s picture on it, as he answered.

Our nanny’s face filled the screen, and a loud wailing sounded in the background. The crying was Eloise, and I was instantly on alert.

“I’m so glad you answered.” Ariana was in a panic. “She woke up from her nap in tears, and I don’t know why. She says her heart hurts.”

“Daddy. Where are you?” Eloise’s cries made me cringe.

“Put her on,” I said. We spoke both English and Italian around the house, so she was fluent in both, but the default was Italian.

When our little girl’s face filled the screen, my heart cracked, and I knew Diego’s was doing the same. She looked miserable.

“What’s wrong, Ellie?” Diego asked.

“I miss you. I want you to come home. You were supposed to be home.”

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