Page 83 of A New Days Don

“Good morning to you, too,” I grumble, picking up the pace as I realize I only have ten more minutes to get to work.

“Don’t good morning me. You have a boyfriend? Why am I hearing about this and from your mother? Sheesh, she hasn’t stopped texting me all weekend.” Karmin rambles on, and my whole body relaxes as I realize she didn’t try to intervene when I was with Massimo on Friday and gave me time to process everything over the weekend, even though she was told about him most likely the moment I got off the phone with my mother.

It’s the breath of fresh air that I need. The subtle understanding that she is not calling to scold me or stop me from making my own choices, but calling to play the best friend card.

A smile tugs on my lips, and I can’t stop myself from grinning, “I, uhhh, I didn’t even know I was dating him?”

There is a pause on the other side, and my phone vibrates in my hand. I would have thought I lost her, but her call is still active, and the vibration was a text from Massimo.

That’s not creepy at all.

A light breeze gently grazes against my skin as I survey the area. Several cars pass by, and a few pedestrians grumble under their breath as they navigate around me.

“How do you not know you’re dating someone?” Karmin’s laughter floats through my phone.

“He’s the one who dropped that bomb on my parents,” I say while quickly shooting a text back to Massimo while continuing my trek to work.

My steps falter as I look down at the text I sent. My mind was half in the conversation with Karmin and half trying to text Massimo. My cheeks flare with warmth as I realize I called him my boyfriend. I try to edit the text in hopes he didn’t see it, but the typing dots pop up.

Fuck.

“Karmin,” I panic, and her laughter stops, a serious air forming between us through the phone, “I texted him and inadvertently called him my boyfriend. What do I do?! He saw it.”

I hold the phone away from me like it is the enemy, and suddenly Karmin bursts into laughter again. “This is serious.”

“No, no, you’re right.” She says between wheezes, “I think you own it. You’re Mila fucking Lewis, make that man bow at your feet.”

I groan, speeding up faster as I see the station appear in the distance. My phone vibrates again, but I ignore it. I do not need to see his response right now.

“That doesn’t help,” I whine playfully.

“Okay, fine.” She clears her throat, all amusement leaving before she asks, “Do you like him like that?”

“No… Yes? I don’t know…” I trail off.

“If you are worried about how this looks, having a boyfriend after everything you have been through, don’t. Your parents are overbearing and need to chill the fuck out. They have had to do so for six years. So, fuck what they think and live for you.” Karmin shrugs as I walk through the doors into the crisp air-conditioned department lobby. I nod to Sheila, our secretary, before continuing around to the back, using my key card to gain access.

“They really do,” I grumble before adding, “Listen, I have to go. Gerardo wanted to meet with me this morning about that whole cruiser at the site of a natural gas explosion.”

“Ooof… Sounds like fun. Call me when you are done with work. I want all the juicy details. If your boyfriend is who I think he is, then you can’t gatekeep this from me during my dry spell.” Karmin insists, and I laugh.

“Okay, Karm.” I place my backpack into my locker before hanging up with Karmin and seeing another text from Massimo.

Before I can respond to Massimo, I see Gerardo waving me over to his office and head for him, sliding my phone back into my pocket.

“Good morning, Mila, how was your weekend?” He asks conversationally as we enter his pristine, orderly office. To the right of his desk is a stack of papers and manila envelopes, and to the left is his monitor, keyboard, and mouse.

I slip into the seat in front of his desk while responding, “It was good.”

Gerardo raises one of his bushy brows, as if he expected I would say more. Perhaps spill on what happened Friday. But I don’t. The less I say, the better. Nothing about the house blowing up and the cruiser going with it looks good, and the reporters are spinning the story in every possible direction in order to gain more views.

When I don’t say more, he nods, slumping into the large leather office chair behind the desk, “Right, well, I’m sure you know why I brought you in here today.”

Once again, I don’t offer more information than necessary, I only nod. Gerardo smirks at that, but continues on, “According to your report, you were at the property checking on a house you were sitting?”

According to my report? I haven’t had a chance to organize a report, let alone submit it to Gerardo. He slides the typed report with my signature on the bottom.

My mouth opens, but I shut it and settle on a nod in response. The last thing I need is to raise suspicion by telling him I didn’t write this. I quickly skim the facts on the sheet. The report is filled in exactly as Massimo and I had discussed the morning before he brought me back to my townhouse.