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Declan rubs his chin. “Maybe. I’ll have to think it over.”
“Rowan, we’re supposed to protest against Iris working more hours.” Cal sighs. “Poor girl probably forgot what the sun looks like with all the hours Declan makes her work.”
I don’t care about Iris or her schedule so long as I get what I want. While I might be interested in changing some of my old ways, I’ll never stop being greedy when it comes to Zahra. She will always be the exception to any rule and the one person I’m willing to screw the world over for. Because if she’s not happy, I’ll ruin whatever stole her smile, myself included.
* * *
I grip onto the plastic bag with a chokehold as I slam the knocker on Zahra’s apartment door. After my jet was grounded for an extra hour today due to Christmas day traffic, I couldn’t make it back as early as I would have hoped. But I’m here now and ready to speak to Zahra. Since everything is settled with the Director position, I can use it as a bargaining chip to show her my good faith.
I don’t want her to leave Dreamland because of me. I want to work with her, side by side, and make this place everything she has dreamed of.
Claire opens the door with a frown. “What do you want?”
“Is Zahra home?”
“It’s Christmas.”
“But you’re here, and she wouldn’t leave you alone on a holiday.”
Her eyes narrow into two tiny slits, and I know I got her. “She doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“I’ll let her decide that,” I reply with a flat tone.
She crosses her arms. “Why are you really here?”
“Because I need to talk to her. It’s important.”
She raises a brow. “OnChristmas?”
“Claire? Who is it?” Zahra turns the corner and freezes in the entryway.
I take a good look at her. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun I want to unleash, and her body is hidden beneath the most hideous Christmas PJs. My hands itch to grab her, yet I remain leaning against the doorframe.
“Zahra.” My voice carries a raspy tone to it.
She ignores me. “I got this, Claire.”
“You sure?” Her friend’s gaze slides from Zahra to me, going from soft to edgy in a second.
Zahra nods and walks toward the door. Claire doesn’t bother looking in my direction as she walks down a hall back to her room.
“What do you want, Rowan?” Zahra crosses her arms.
“I want to talk.”
“On Christmas?”
What is up with these two and Christmas? It’s just a holiday—more of an inconvenience than anything else.
I take a deep breath and dangle the bag in her eyesight. “I brought an activity to convince you to give me an hour to talk.”
Her eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”
I frown. “Yes? I researched the best strategies for gingerbread house making and thought we could give it a try while you hear me out. I even bought popsicle sticks to work as stabilizers.”
She says nothing.
Come on. Say something.“I thought we could make homemade icing because the one in the box looks disgusting.”
