An arrangement that will end in a matter of days. Two, to be exact.
My heart squeezes at the realization. In two days, we’ll pull up to the Santa Monica Pier and this adventure will end. As will my feelings for Miles.
It’s the way it has to be.
“Luce?”
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
In my confusion, I glance down at the dashboard. Six miles before we run out of gas. A tremor ripples down my arms as anxiety takes hold. It’s going to be close.
Too close.
“You were saying you wanted to study photography.” Miles drums his fingers lightly on the armrest between us. “I really thought you threw the whole influencer thing out on a whim. Now I’m starting to think I just might come to regret our bet.”
“Serves you right for underestimating me.”
He’s not the first, and I doubt he’ll be the last. People who prefer the shadows to the spotlight are always overlooked and undervalued. It’s just the way of things in our society.
“Trust me. That’s not a mistake I’ll make twice.” He reaches over and squeezes my thigh, and God help me, I believe him. “I take it you’ve always been interested in travel, too?”
I nod, careful to avoid looking at the dashboard this time.
He sighs. “I should’ve known.”
“You really should have.” Because, apparently, even my subconscious is a planner, and what felt like a slip of the tongue in a heated moment was really the first step in fulfilling a childhood dream. “My parents have always been homebodies. Their idea of travel is an annual trip to Galveston.”
And…now you sound like an ungrateful asshole.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I add hurriedly. “I loved splashing in the gulf as a kid, but now I want to see what else the world has to offer.”
“I guess that explains the pictures plastered all over the inside of the Airstream.”
My cheeks heat at the mention of my life-size vision board.
The pictures probably seem silly to someone like Miles. Someone who’s made his dreams a reality and who has the means to circle the globe in style if he wishes. But to me, they’re a reminder the world is bigger and broader than the tiny circle I inhabit.
A reminder that with enough time and hard work, I can—and will—make my dreams a reality.
Today, Route 66. Tomorrow, who knows?
“I think I might be jealous,” he finally says.
Impossible. “Why would you ever be jealous of me?”
“I’ve never given much thought to travel, but you’ve got a freedom few possess. No job. No mortgage. No family to support. You can just pick up and go wherever the wind blows you.”
He’s joking, right?
“Miles. You’re a billionaire. You have all the resources in the world at your disposal.” Unlike 99 percent of the population, myself included. “There’s nothing stopping you from seeing the world.”
“Who has the time?” He rubs the back of his neck. “Triada’s thriving. I can’t be away for long stretches.”
I roll my eyes. “If this bet has proven anything, it’s that you can work remotely and the company won’t crumble in your absence.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out.
Because I’m right. As usual.
