Page 9 of The Billionaire's Lost Family

She rotated in his arms to face him directly and rested her hands behind his neck. “I love you, Wesley Bassett,” Hazel said with a smile.

“I love you, Hazel Bassett. See? Things will be okay.”

Hazel had no more arguments. “Okay then,” she said before turning to the woman at the counter. “We’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay. Tá bom.” The woman gave a kind nod and waved them on.

* * *

The day had only gotten hotter as they left the pawn shop and retraced their steps back to their hotel. The woman who owned the house did remember them and was kind enough to let them back in. Wesley helped Hazel empty her suitcase and check all the pockets. The act was so tragic. There was something so final about rifling through every last zipper pocket to make sure nothing got left behind.

“Goodbye, poor, sad cow luggage,” Hazel said with a pout. She still couldn’t believe they’d been robbed. She’d been so confident while planning this trip. Even Sandy, her adoptive mom, had suggested she use a fanny pack instead, something that couldn’t be torn from her like that, and Hazel hadn’t listened. No, she’d wanted to use her fancy, fun, matching luggage.

“Looks like that’s it,” Wesley said, zipping the front of the suitcase closed. They’d only been here for a day, and already the sun had painted his skin a shade darker since they’d arrived, in spite of the sunscreen he’d applied earlier. She thought of his comment about visiting a beach later, and regret swam inside her. Maybe they should have just gone ahead with a regular honeymoon after all.

Even if they had, though, other couples got robbed on their honeymoons too. It probably didn’t matter what their plans were. Sometimes bad things just happened.

“Ready?” Wesley said.

Hazel glanced at the amber light peeking through the window’s thin curtain with a forlorn sigh. She couldn’t bear going out there again. She was too sad. She needed some time to wallow, to hide away for a little while. “Actually, do you mind taking it? I think I’ll close my eyes for a bit. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Silly as it seemed, she wasn’t sure she could bear to watch Wesley sell the suitcase. Not when it was the last thing she had right now.

He smiled and dipped in for a dizzying kiss that made her want to pull him close and not let him go anywhere for a good long while. Too soon, he tore away from her. “You get some rest. I got this,” he assured her, wheeling the luggage out the door.

5

Wesley did his best to ignore the strange glances and stares from people who stepped outside their doors to shake out linens or speak to their neighbors. Several young children trailed behind him, lifting their arms shouting phrases he didn’t understand.

Soon enough, Wesley found the pawn shop. A bell tinkled as he opened the door, and the shopkeeper’s face lit up.

“Você voltou! Come, come. Bring your suitcase.” She wove around a set of shelves holding rolls of colorful blankets. Another customer browsed through the shop this time. He was a short man with dark skin and hair cropped short. He glanced briefly in Wesley’s direction, but Wes ignored him and placed the suitcase on the glass counter where the phone had been.

The woman ran her hand across the bizarre leather. “Estampa de vaca,” she said with a laugh. “People want bags to look like cows.” She bared her typical, friendly smile that was just a tad bit more humored, as if she thought the luggage was funny.

Wesley was entranced by her friendliness and caught on to her humor instantly. He laughed with her, grateful to realize he still could. “I think it’s a little strange too, but my wife loves this.”

“Good, good,” the woman said. “For this, I give you fifty reais.”

Behind him, Wesley sensed the other man’s attention shift. Wesley adjusted how he stood so his back was to the man and lowered his voice. “Reais?” Wesley asked.

“Sim, yes. Reais.” She rubbed her fingers together. “Reais is money. Fifty is a good price. It will cover the cost of the phone call.”

Wesley had no idea whether fifty was a fair amount or not. Then again, he wasn’t exactly in a great position to barter with her, but he did have one other question he wanted to ask.

“Have you seen a smaller bag like this one?” He gestured as though hanging an invisible purse over his shoulder. He sensed the man watching him, and the feeling sent shivers down his spine.

“Another bag?” the woman said, immediately shaking her head. “No, no. I would know if another bag like this came in.”

Wesley’s heart sank, but that wasn’t the only sensation bothering him during this exchange. The man across the store continued watching him.

Get out,part of him warned. He ignored the warning. He needed to do this. Not only did they owe this woman for using her phone, but this should be enough to get them through until tomorrow. Then Melanie would transfer the funds. She would get ahold of Franco, and they would be able to move on.

“Okay,” Wesley said in agreement, ignoring his unease. “Thank you.’

She beamed, showcasing generous cheeks and more of her friendly persona. The transaction went smoothly, made better still with the other man’s exit as the shopkeeper handed Wesley a colorful bill.

“Thank you,” he said.

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