Fate Book (25 page)

“I know. I love you, too. And tell Mom I love her and miss her.”

“I will.”

“And, Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I lost my notebook, but if you figure out how to send me another one, I’ll write every day. Okay?”

He chuckled softly. “I’d like that.”

The call ended, and I handed Paolo back his phone. He quickly popped out the battery. I guessed it was to kill the signal.

“So you made your choice?” he asked.

I bobbed my head. “You.”

He pulled me into his broad chest and stroked the back of my head. “I’m sorry you had to choose.”

So was I, but strangely, I was happy, too. My mother finally got her wish: My father had quit his job, and she had him all to herself. As for me, my journey hadn’t ended up where I’d wanted, but my ghost—made of solid flesh and bone, and who loved me—was all I wanted. I had faith that everything else would work itself out—I’d find a way to see my parents again.

“I don’t know, seems like fate to me,” I said.

He kissed me deeply and then stared into my eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.

He smiled awkwardly. “So are you ready?”

My stomach lurched. “Ready for…what?”

Paolo cupped my cheek. “We can’t stay here. Not after so many phone calls—even with precautions, it’s too risky.”

“Where will we go?” I asked.

Paolo grinned and then shrugged. “I’m not sure, actually. Falling in love with you and running away was the one thing I never planned for.”

How funny. Mr. Contingency didn’t have one for this scenario? I found that completely adorable for some reason.

I gave it a moment of thought. “How about Italy?” He spoke the language.

His mouth twisted a bit. “About that, Dakota, I should tell you something.”

Oh no.

Again, he smiled awkwardly. “Remember I told you about my family?”

“Powerful. Connected. Something like that?” I said, with dread in my tone.

“Yes,” he said. “The reason I went to work for your father is because I wanted to escape them.”

I gasped. “Whyyy?”

“They are not very nice people. Think, Godfather, but much worse.”

Oh great
. “Your family is…Italian mobsters?”

“They prefer to be called
la famiglia
, but yes. And my mother’s death was just one of many in a long string of retaliations and tragedies. That’s why I left as soon as I could. I couldn’t be a part of that. Your father was the one who helped me escape them.”

I felt a twinge of pride. He had to be a good guy, right? “Are they looking for you?” I asked.

“I think they’ve given up, but I’m not sure.” That sounded like a story, an unpleasant one, for another day. And I’d kind of reached my limit.

I sighed. “Okay. Nix on Italy,” I said. “How about somewhere warm in Latin America?” I assumed Paolo’s Spanish was decent; he was great at faking the accent.

“Excellent choice.” Paolo kissed me again, but then I had another thought.

“Wait. Is there anything else I need to know about you? Prison record? Wanted by the FBI?”

Funny. Paolo actually paused to think about the answer. “There is much to tell you, but nothing like that.”

I sighed with relief.

“Come. It’s time to get dressed.” He took my hand and pulled me up from the bed, and stared into my eyes.

“Can I send Mandy and Bridget postcards before we go?”

“No. I’m sorry,” he said. “But we will find another way to let them know you are all right.”

Good. Because I wouldn’t want them to worry.

I kissed him quickly. “Just promise that wherever we end up, I’ll get a chance to study psychology, and that I can get my Spy Kids training. I have a feeling I’ll need both.”

“You do understand that you won’t actually have to work? Ever,” he added.

“If you think I’m going to sponge off you for the rest of my life—”

“You’re more than welcome to; however, as much as I’ve earned over these past few years, I’m certain your father’s investment skills far exceed mine.”

What did he mean by that? “Sorry?”

“Dakota, your father made a very large sum of money over the years. And since your mother insisted on living like a normal, middle-class family, I don’t think he spent much.”

“And?” I asked.

“Let us just say that I’m a lowly, single-digit millionaire compared to you.”

I sucked in a breath and let the air flap my lips. This news was simply one more strange, strange thing to pile on top. And, frankly, it didn’t fall into the “critical” or “life-threatening” heap.
Nope. Don’t care.

“So you’ve been stalking me for my fortune?” I said jokingly.

“Of course. What other reason would I want you, other than for your vast fortune?” His eyes swept over my body.

“Funny.”

“I have my moments,” he said. But with his thick accent, which I’d now become accustomed to, it sounded like he’d said,
I hab my momenzzz.

“So, given that money is no object, does that mean I can still go to school?” I asked.

He grinned proudly, and I wondered if it was because he liked the fact I wouldn’t become a giant slacker.

“For you, anything is possible, Dakota.”

I beamed at him. Because when a man like Paolo said something like that, you knew it had to be true. It was like he controlled the universe single-handedly. “Anything, huh?”

“Anything,” he said confidently.

“Do we have time for a shower?”

His eyes lit with joy. “We’ll have to make it fast, but I thought you’d never ask.”

EPILOGUE

Undisclosed Location. Six Months Later…

“
Buenos días
, Julia. The usual?”

From the back of the line, I nodded at the tall barista in the white apron. “Gracias, Miguel! Can you add a café Americano to my order today?”

He nodded cheerfully. “
Por supuesto
.”

Miguel was also a student, so I always left him a nice tip, which is why he often started my order the moment he saw me—“Julie,” a.k.a. “Julia”—walk through the door. I came daily to this beachside café because it had the best coffee in town and was only two blocks from our apartment. Okay, it wasn’t exactly an apartment. More like a luxury villa for ex-pats, with an ocean view. But who was asking? Thank God, no one. Paolo said it was better to hide in plain sight, playing the role of wealthy foreigners on an extended vacation, than to try to lie low in a shady part of town. Too suspicious, he’d said.

“Is he making my order? Or do I have to go to the back of the line?” I felt Paolo’s thick, strong arms slip around my waist and his hot breath bathe the nape of my neck.

I sighed happily. “You’re two minutes late. But would I forget your drink,
Santiago
?” I swiveled in his arms and gazed up at his deeply bronzed, beach town skin. I had to admit, the tropics did Paolo—alias Santiago—justice. Not long after we arrived here, I discovered he loved scuba diving, sailboarding, sailing, snorkeling, running, and swimming…He was a one-man decathlon. And, thankfully, a great instructor for all the stuff I didn’t know how to do.

He gave me a long, deep, lazy kiss. “No, Julia. You always look after me,” he said suggestively.

Oh boy. If he started, I wouldn’t be able to resist him, and then we’d end up arrested for public fornication.

I turned back toward the register, mentally fanning my face. “You just like me because I’m your sugar mama.”

He pinched my ass through my sundress, and I yelped.

“Hey! Just for that, you’re paying for coffee.” I kissed him and trotted outside to the sandy patio with the view of that turquoise water I couldn’t get enough of. California beaches were nothing like this.

I made a little playful wave at Paolo—who looked delicious in his wrinkled, white linen shirt and well-loved cutoffs—through the window and sat down at my favorite small table. It was the one with the giant umbrella, right next to the tall coconut tree. My pale skin and I needed lots of shade.

I began digging out my books, running verb conjugations through my head. I was taking only Spanish classes for now, but next semester, after I got the language down, I planned to take courses in psychology.

I slipped my binder from my backpack and saw a large manila envelope wedged inside.

Oh my God. It couldn’t be
. Feeling giddy, I tore open the envelope and slid out its contents.

Yes!
There was a new notebook and folded letter.

“Ah, I see you found your surprise.” Paolo—errr—Santiago—whatever—walked toward me with two cups of coffee. A small breeze blew his sun-streaked hair over his eyes, and he made a little huff with his breath to clear his view.

So cute. So sexy. I was so in love with this man.

“But h…h…how?” I asked.

He smiled with those gorgeous, stubble-framed lips and set the coffee in front of me. “I have my ways.” He glanced at the letter in my hand. “Read it.”

I unfolded the white paper, immediately recognizing my mother’s handwriting. My heart lifted. Over the past few months, I’d come to accept everything that had happened. I felt happier than ever, actually. But my biggest regret was not being able to say good-bye to my mom or talk to her every day.

My eyes quickly scanned the paper and drank in the words. “They’re somewhere cold,” I mumbled to Paolo, who sipped his coffee with a triumphant grin. He knew he’d “done good.”

“And,” I added, “she says she’s enjoying having my father all to herself for once, although he snores now, and it keeps her up a lot.”

“Keep reading,” he said.

But as happy as I am, Dakota, to be with your father, to be healthy and alive, I miss you. More than I could ever say in this letter. Which is why I told your father that he is a giant ass for not finding a way for us all to be together. For heaven’s sake, the man stopped a nuclear attack on the United States, but he can’t figure out how to let me see my only daughter? Well, you can imagine that I wasn’t having it. Which is why by the time you get this letter I’ll be right there to read it with you.

“Huh?” I looked up at Paolo, whose grin was almost as wide as my eyes.

“Right behind you,” he said.

I jumped from the chair and found my mother’s warm smile and big blue eyes. “Surprise, baby.”

“Oh my God.” We hugged tightly, and I couldn’t help but cry. I pulled away and looked at her smiling face, unable to really believe she was standing there. “But how? Is it safe?”

“Not to worry, Dakota, your father and I were very careful. But we won’t be staying long. Just a few days.”

I didn’t care. I was happy to see her, no matter for how many minutes, hours, days—whatever.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

She chuckled and pointed to a man about a hundred yards down the beach, standing under a tree. He wore a straw hat, dark sunglasses, and a blue Hawaiian shirt. I could tell from the way he stood that his eyes were scanning everything in the vicinity. I’d seen Paolo do it a thousand times.

My mother shrugged. “He’s a little paranoid. Just let him do his thing; I’m sure he’ll be over in a minute.” She looked at Paolo. “Oh, sorry.” She gave him a warm hug. “I can’t thank you enough for helping to arrange this,
Santiago
.” She said his name with a deliberate emphasis as if to tease him.

He bowed his head. “It’s my pleasure. Anything to make
Julie
happy.”

My mother looked back at me, beaming. “Julie. It’s a great name. And you look just,” she sighed, “gorgeous. The most beautiful bride-to-be ever.”

“Bride?” I asked.

Paolo cleared his throat, and my mother covered her mouth. “Oops. I just ruined the surprise, didn’t I?”

I looked at Paolo, then my mother, and then back again at him. “What’s she talking about?”

“I’ll just be right over there with your father.” My mother scurried away, with a goofy grin.

“Paolo?”

He stepped in and slid his arms around my waist. “I was going to propose tonight during dinner.”

Marriage. He wanted to marry me. I can’t say that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but I figured we would make that leap when the time came and things settled down and I was done with school and we had a house and…
Crap. There I go again. Waiting for everything to be perfect. Idiot.

Of course I’d marry him. I couldn’t imagine life without the man. Having a house, job, and degree wouldn’t change that.

“I love you, Dakota. You’re everything to me.” Paolo’s voice was deep and sincere. “So, what do you say?” he pulled a small black box from his pocket. His dark eyes glowed with happiness and his usual confidence, which made me wonder.

“By any chance, did you plan a wedding for tomorrow?” I asked.

“No. Your mother insisted we give you a real wedding, which she insists on planning.”

I assumed there wouldn’t be anyone there except us four, but I loved the idea of having a proper dress, cake, ceremony…It was perfect. I had everything I ever hoped for.

I pushed up onto my tiptoes to reach his lips and gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll think about.” I wanted to see him squirm. Just a little.

He chuckled. “You’ll
think
about it?”

I grabbed my stuff and began walking toward my parents. “Yeah,” I called out. “I also want to make sure my dad doesn’t still plan on killing you.”

“That’s not funny,” he replied.

He ran up behind me and grabbed me by the waist. Our feet got all tangled, and I fell into the warm sand. Paolo came crashing on top of me.

I rolled over and Paolo sat on top of me, pinning me down. “Say yes or I’m not letting you go.”

“Are you insane? My parents are watching.” I expected my father would appear at any moment and kick the crap out of him.

Paolo glanced happily in their direction. “Let them watch. I’m not letting you up until you say yes.”

“Oh my god. You’re crazy. Yes. Yes! I’ll marry you. Just get off me.”

He grinned and pecked me on the lips. “Anything for you.”

THE END

~ ~ ~

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