Page 65 of Beautiful Trauma
“Clothes okay?” I asked.
Ducking her head, she replied, “Fine.”
I sensed she was holding something back, so I asked, “What’s wrong?”
To my surprise, she gave me a sheepish look. “You forgot a bra and underwear.”
“Fuck. I wasn’t thinking about that.” After furiously rubbing the back of my neck, I added, “Besides the fact I would haveno idea what size your boobs were.” With a grimace, I corrected myself. “I mean, breasts.”
“It’s okay.”
“We’ll make another order.”
As I handed her a plate, my phone rang. At Callum’s name flashing on the screen, I quickly answered it. “Hey, boyo.”
“How are you holding up, mate?”
“We’re all right.”
“Are you settling into your shithole?”
I chuckled. “A little.”
“Well, you might as well get comfortable for the night.”
With a groan, I replied, “Seriously?”
“They’re working on a mechanical issue with the jet.”
“You’re joking?”
“Unfortunately not”
“Can’t the Nerettis send theirs?”
“Trust me, I already tried that. Gianni has it out in San Francisco at some tech conference.”
“Fabulous,” I grumbled.
“They should be there by morning. I’ll keep you posted. Sit tight.”
“I’ll try.”
When I hung up, Mila gave me a tight look. “That desperate to get rid of me?”
“That’s not it at all.”
“It sounded like it,” she replied in a surprisingly vulnerable voice.
I grabbed her hand in mine. “Believe me when I say I would be happy to stay locked up here in this hellhole with you if we weren’t in a foreign territory with no allies.”
“You’re joking.”
With a shake of my head, I argued, “Staying here means getting a chance to know you.”
After she placed a plump strawberry in her mouth, she asked, “What do you want to know?”
“More about Mila.”
