Page 81 of The Layover

He pressed his lips to my cheek, and settled into the hug again. “We really do.”

Relief flowed through me, despite the lack of a solution. “What now?”

“We call her. We tell her.” Diego made it sound so simple.

And he was right. Again. The three of us had figured out some intense puzzles while Carly was here, and if we could do that, we could unravel a solution to all of us staying in each other’s lives.

Except for one tiny little problem. “She’s not even showing up for work meetings. There’s no way she’s going to take our call. Unless…”

“What are you thinking?” Diego murmured against my skin.

I pulled away so I could face him. “Follow my lead?”

“Of course.”

I grabbed my phone and called Daria on speaker. She had become our contact with Carly gone, and while it was late here, it was the middle of the day for her.

She answered quickly. “Hey. You’re not still working, are you?”

Diego raised an eyebrow.

“No.” I assured her quickly. Please let this be the right decision. Daria had apologized on every phone meeting that she couldn’t get Carly to join, and while there had never been more than professional conversation, I swore more lay underneath. “I have a favor to ask, though,” I said.

“We’ve been over this—they’re not favors, they’re plan alterations,” Daria teased.

It has become clear lately why she and Carly were best friends.

“This is a favor.” Diego spoke up.

Now that we were doing this, every moment wasted was another moment too much. “Can you get Carly to talk to us?” I managed to make the request without rushing or fumbling over the words.

Daria’s silence was deafening.

“It’s not work related,” Diego said.

Would that make Daria more or less likely to listen to our request?

“All right.” When she finally responded, I let out a long exhale of relief. “I can send you over, and I can tell her she has to take the call. But I can’t make her keep you on the line.”

“That’s all we can ask. Thank you.” I’d say it over and over if it would help.

Daria clucked. “I’m going to transfer you now. Please don’t let her hang up on you.” Her request came out in a rush, and then we were on hold.

A moment later, the line clicked. “This is Carly Hammond, may I help you?” Even in full-blown professional mode, she sounded incredible.

“Hi. It’s Raul and Diego.” We love you. Come back to Milan, please. Maybe we’d do a little more small talk first.

“I know,” she said. Was that a hitch in her cool tone? “Daria can answer any questions you have. She knows this project as well as I do.”

But she didn’t. No disrespect to Daria, but Carly was intimately familiar with the details of our business.

“This isn’t about the restaurant,” Diego said.

This was taking too long. “We love you.” The words tumbled past my lips with no fanfare or warning. “We love you, and we miss you, and you need to come back to Milan so we can figure this out.”

If Daria’s silence had been disconcerting, it was nothing compared to the seconds of nothing that stretched out now. Why wasn’t Carly saying anything? Did she need to hear more? I looked at Diego, trying to convey what now with my eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Carly’s response was like a knife through the heart. Two simple words, and I was dead. “I can’t. If you need help with the project, Daria can help.”

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