Page 67 of Unraveled

His teeth clenched.

Cara didn’t miss it. “That is my uncle’s car.”

“Looks like it.”

“Why would he be outside my apartment?”

Gian turned back in the seat, his show of irritation all but gone. “Hard to say. Let’s get you to classes, Cara.”

“But—”

“Hey,” he interrupted smoothly, “your birthday is coming up, right? Constantino might have mentioned it, since his is not far off from yours.”

Cara’s brow furrowed while she tried to decide whether to push him on her uncle’s presence outside her place, or call him on his distraction. She settled for answering his question, for now. “Two weeks from Saturday.”

“Would a private flight to Quebec be a proper present? We would leave Saturday morning, and be back Sunday evening.”

“What’s in Quebec, Gian?”

“French. A whole lot of French, mon ange. And old buildings, brick roads, shitty drivers, some of the best restaurants, tickets to a ballet, and a fantastic suite booked for a birthday girl.”

Cara couldn’t help but smile. “A trip to Quebec it is.”

Cara nearly tripped over the waiting bags at her apartment door as she rushed to answer the persistent knocking. With only a towel wrapped around her waist, and her wet hair hanging freely around her shoulders, she figured whoever it was could deal with being made to wait, considering it was them who got her out of the shower.

She pulled open the door with a huff, flipping wet curls out of her eyes at the same time. “What?”

A man she recognized—Chris was his name—stood on the other side, waiting with a smile and a large white box with two smaller white boxes on top of them. Pretty, shimmering pink bows had been tied to each box.

Cara’s irritation instantly melted away.

“Gian?” she asked.

Chris nodded. “You know it.”

This was the second time Gian had sent Chris to her door with a gift—although this looked to be gifts. The first had been the black choker she loved so much. The barrel-chested man had politely explained to Cara that should she continue to refuse the gift, he didn’t mind escorting Cara to Gian to accept the gift directly, if she was so insistent on not allowing him to do his job. Given that first meeting, Cara knew better than to refuse Chris, when he was only there to do what he had been told.

And it was her birthday, after all.

“He could have waited for tonight,” Cara mused as she stepped back to let Chris in.

Her birthday had come much faster than she expected, the end of March skipping into her life before she had blinked.

There was no way she could take the boxes and maintain her modesty by holding up her towel. Chris kept his eyes above her chest as he maneuvered through her apartment to set the boxes down on the kitchen table.

“Early gifts, he said,” Chris told her. “Something he thought you might like to have for the trip, and the ballet tonight.”

“Oh?”

“That’s what was told to me. I’ll be waiting outside to drive you to the private air strip when you’re ready, miss. Do you want me to take the bags at the door down for you?”

Cara gave the guy a smile. “You can call me Cara.”

Chris shrugged. “I could, but I won’t. At least, not yet. The bags?”

“They’re only small. I can do—”

“I’ll take them, no worries. Finish getting ready.”