Page 117 of Diego

His eyes stay fixed on my plate.

“He doesn’t care where you live,” Donna says. “He wants your steak.”

“At least someone in this family is clear about their motives.”

I slip him a small piece before Lorenzo can object.

“Diego.”

I look at my brother. “What?”

“You know he has food.”

“He looked hungry.”

“He always looks hungry.”

Mocha takes the steak and immediately returns his head to my leg.

“See?” I say. “Starving.”

Donna just shakes her head. I guess pregnancy has softened her up a little.

My phone is still in my hand, and I look down at the clearance email again.

Finally.

Five weeks of repairs, delays, contractors, replacement parts, inspections, retesting, and conversations about windows that I never wanted to understand in the first place.

Done.

I can close.

I can move.

I can have the penthouse to myself.

My mind conjures Blair before I can stop it.

Those green eyes and black hair.

Those sky-high heels.

Her backed up against the office wall, kissing me before she remembered all the reasons she shouldn’t.

You have your wall today, Blair. But once I've closed on this penthouse, you won't have any more excuses.

I smile again.

Across the table, Ricardo catches it.

He lifts an eyebrow.

“What?” I ask.

Ricardo studies me with open amusement. “You’re just very happy about the inspection.”

“I am.”