Page 152 of Rich in Your Love


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“I know. Believe me, I know. I’ll be back in forty-eight hours. Seventy-two max. If Lola starts asking where I disappeared to tonight, tell her I needed fresh air and wanted to be alone because I hate the weight I gain when I’m injured.”

“Whoa. You seriously want me to give Lola ammunition against you?”

“I’m out of ideas, Sam. Fresh out. If you have a better idea, text me. Keep a log so I know what I did and said while I was gone.”

“Always do.” She lifts her brows, like she’s waiting for something.

And then I realize what she’s waiting for.

Oh God.

I’m going to cry the entire flight.

I lift my purse and rub my face against Pebbles’s face. “Mama loves you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Samantha, and do everything she says, and I’ll bring you back the best, best,besttreats money can buy, I swear I will.”

And if tomorrow’s presentation to one Mr.Fitzwilliam Hawthorne goes well, then Samantha will be boarding a plane to Costa Rica to deliver my dog to me before I call and tell my grandmother I’m done.

Pebbles licks my face.

I scratch her ears.

She wags her tail.

I kiss her head and drop tears in her fur. “Last time, baby. This is thelast time.”

“She’ll be fine, Tavi,” Sam whispers. “I’ve got her.”

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“No, thankyou. I couldn’t afford Mom’s care if I didn’t have this job.”

And that’s why I trust her.

Well, that and the ironclad nondisclosure agreement, and she knows I know her green card is fake.

I’d never use that against her—she’s saved my life more than once—but my reputation says I would, and I don’t correct it.

I’ve mentioned I hate this life, right?

Except for Dylan.

I most definitely love Dylan, and I don’t know what to do about it.

Something else I love—and knowexactlywhat to do about?

Arriving just about eight hours later at a private airstrip just outside San José, Costa Rica, and stepping off the plane to the sight of Naomi and Sebastián.

“You’re here!” Naomi cries.

I fling myself at her, hugging her tight, and I’m suddenly stifling sobs again.

“Oh, honey, no, no tears,” she whispers.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Pebbles will be okay, and Sam’s a pro, and we’re going to nail this presentation.”

I meant leaving Dylan.