Page 107 of My Infatuation with Isabella

“We?” Tom asks. “You’re moving with us?”

“Of course. Syd, too. We’re a package deal now.”

Tom pushes a bit more. “And does this come with a pay increase?”

“It’s a promotion, wouldn’t you agree?”

I am so excited I could scream right now. “Damon, I’m speechless...I don’t?”

My sentence is cut short when his focus shifts to the person behind me. “Mr. De Lorenzo.”

I half-turn to see Dylan nod a greeting, and he reaches over me to shake Damon’s hand. “Mr. Aberknackey.”

“I assume you’re here to collect payment?”

“Yes, sir.”

My eyes bounce between the two of them. “Payment? What are you talking about?”

“Dylan offered us a twenty-five percent discount on whatever the Royale was charging us for catering at the year-end party. All he asked for in exchange was for us to give you three afternoons off. It was a deal we couldn’t refuse.” He taps me on the shoulder as he shifts around us. “Well, enjoy. Now, if you’ll excuse us. Thomas and I have committed ourselves to some face painting that starts in about five minutes.”

Tommy offers a quick greeting to Dylan before he and Damon walk away. I’m still speechless by that whole exchange. He made it clear that meeting me on Christmas eve wasn’t a coincidence, but the level to which he orchestrated the whole thing is both mind-boggling and sort of...flattering.

I turn to face Dylan once we’re alone. “So, a twenty-five percent discount?”

“Eric initially said no. I had to sweeten the deal.”

“That was steep.”

“It was worth it.” He grabs the front of my jeans and tugs me toward him. “It meant getting you at the end of it. I would’ve done it for free.” Lowering his head, he kisses my neck. “I missed you. These last three weeks were torture.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to come inside,” Dana says from behind me, and he takes a step back.

I turn to see her walking toward us, carrying baby Neymar. There is something about this kid that just melts my heart. He’s adorable. Pitch black curls, olive skin, and big hazel-green eyes. All that cuteness is coupled with the fattest cheeks I’ve ever seen. When he smiles, he hastwosets of dimples.

“I changed my mind,” Dylan replies softly.

As soon as Dana reaches us, I take him from her arms. “Oh, my goodness! You get cuter every time I see you.” I relish in the cute, little gurgle he makes when I kiss his cheek. “Whoever said love at first sight doesn’t exist has obviously never met you, Ney-ney.”

“Ney-ney?” Dylan asks even though his eyes never leave Neymar.

“Yes. The last time I was here, I played him a song. He watched me whip and I watched him ney-ney...It became our thing, isn’t that right?” I nuzzle my nose against his cheeks and get a squeal this time.

Dylan chuckles, then tentatively lifts his hand to pinch Neymar’s cheek. “Geez, he’s cute.”

“Do you...do you wanna hold him?”

He immediately withdraws his hand, becoming cold all of a sudden. “Nope.”

I know this is a touchy issue for him, so I don’t force the matter, but baby Neymar is not deterred by his slightly abrasive demeanor. He’s only five months old, an age where he’s putting everything into his mouth. He simply reaches out, takes the anchor on Dylan’s chain, and starts chewing on it.

Dylan stiffens but still doesn’t take his eyes off him. Very gently, he uncurls Neymar’s chubby fingers, getting drool over his hand in the process, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. “You can’t eat that, little man.”

He exchanges a look with Dana, and she must read his discomfort because she takes Neymar from me. “C’mon, let’s take you back to your mom. It’s naptime.”

“I’ll come see you again next week,” I promise, stealing a few more cuddles before she takes him upstairs. “Man, that kid makes my heart feel like it’s about to explode. I can’t handle that level of cuteness.” I look over at Dylan and he still seems to be fluctuating between Jekyll and Hyde. “Are you okay?”

“No.” He smirks, and I know that smirk. It’s the one where he’s hiding his true feelings beneath it. “Can we leave?”

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