I smirk. “Thanks.”
Last week’s package consisted of thirty drawings of my almost seven-year-old niece jumping off my boat into the ocean. A fear she conquered this summer.
The rest were drawings of Juliette, Harrison’s pregnant wife, and Claudina’s adoptive mom, because Claud is obsessed with becoming a big sister.
I grab the envelope and head up to the penthouse, wondering if Leo is home from his meeting in midtown.
I’m back. Want to debrief over a beer?
Leo: May have taken a quick detour.
I groan out loud. Of course he did.
Don’t tell me you’re at Lily’s.
Leo: I’m not at Lily’s.
WTF.
Leo: Okay, half-lie. I’m there, but in her roommate’s bed.
You’re a fucking idiot. I hope you get your ass beat.
Leo: It was just one time with Lily. No biggie.
Still a jackass. Come over when you’re done.
I put the key in the door and can already hear the excitement on the other side. Coming home to this is the best feeling in the world.
“There she is, my favorite girl. Come give me a kiss.”
Skye, my German Shepherd, doesn’t hesitate. One big lick covers half my face. She spins in circles, tail wagging furiously, then grabs her plush lamb—Lambie—and trots it around in victory laps.
“Did you have a good walk with Benny tonight?” I crouch and rub behind her ears.
Her ears perk up. She loves that little shit.
Leo and I split the responsibility of taking care of Skye, but Benny helps out when we’re running late from work.
After playing nonstop for thirty minutes and a quick training session to keep her mind sharp, it’s dinner time.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
Skye lets out an excited bark, runs to the kitchen, and paws the fridge because, of course, my baby has the best fresh food delivered.
She’s a spoiled brat, but I love her unconditionally.
I feed her, then dim the lights to get a better view from my floor-to-ceiling windows and make myself a plate of leftovers, with a hefty pour of wine after the day I’ve had.
My phone vibrates across the kitchen island, and if I weren’t expecting an update on a job I’m in the middle of, I’d ignore it.
It surprises me when it’s a response from a good friend of mine.
Matteo.
He had to leave the States unexpectedly to return to his family in Italy, and I’ve been worried about him.
Matteo: How is she?
