“I can see that.”
“But don’t forget what I said.”
“I won’t.”
Then I run toward Mama before he can ask any more questions, because I wasn’t lying. I’m very important today, and I have a schedule to keep.
Chapter Eight
Maverick
Me: Send me everything you can find about Raynaud’s Syndrome.
Luca: Of courseDon. Consider it done.
Satisfied that Luca will get me the information I requested, I pocket my phone and head toward my brother.
Stefano stands near the edge of the goat yoga area, watching a small black-and-white goat climb onto the back of a woman attempting to hold a pose on her mat.
The goat looks far more confident than the woman.
My brother, however, looks delighted.
He’s been home for a month, and in that time, I’ve seen him more relaxed and happy than I have in years. There is still weight in him. Still shadows I know well because they match my own. But they don’t sit as heavily on his shoulders here.
Moving him to Palm Springs was the correct decision.
I only wish I’d done it years ago.
“How did the conversation with the tiny Don go?” Stefano asks as I step beside him.
Smiling, I can’t help but agree with the comparison.
Olivia Moore may be ten years old, but she holds herself like a woman who has already decided the world will bend if she stares at it hard enough.
“She asked if I was going to marry her mother,” I admit.
Stefano turns his head slowly, delight spreading across his face.
“Oh, I like her.”
“Then she proceeded to tell me her mother needs a husband who is not afraid to make her take care of herself.”
His amusement softens into something quieter. “Smart girl.”
“Very.”
My gaze finds Amelia across the sanctuary.
She’s still speaking with a photographer, gesturing toward a wall of pictures with her clipboard tucked under one arm. She smiles as she talks, but one hand is hidden beneath her opposite elbow, her fingers curled into her palm.
I know what that means now.
Or at least, I’m beginning to.
Raynaud’s.
Olivia’s words settle in my chest with surprising weight.
