Felix stepped to the side, and her gentle features replaced his chiseled ones onscreen. “Oh, look at that,” she breathed. “Your name on the cover! I’m so proud of you. Now, make sure to send copies to your relatives in the Philippines, or I’ll never hear the end of it when I go back—”
“Isa!” My lola shoved my mother aside and peered at me. Her wrinkles seemed to have doubled since the last time I saw her, but her eyes were as sharp as ever. “Let me see. Hmm. Are those cufflinks on the cover? I can’t tell. Eyesight’s not so good these days. Arturo!” she yelled, calling my grandfather. “Get over here. Do those look like cufflinks to you?”
I laughed, warmth fizzing in my chest as my family shoved and argued on the other side of the screen. They were a mess sometimes, but they were my mess, and they’d been incredibly supportive of my publishing journey. Most of them anyway.
My smile faded when Gabriel showed up. He was the last to get on the call, and his stern, solemn demeanor was a marked contrast to my other brothers’ teasing.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Publishing a book is a big accomplishment.”
“Thanks.” I hugged it tighter to my body with my free arm. “Proved you wrong, didn’t I?” I said it lightly, but we both knew I wasn’t joking.
“You did.” To my shock, a tiny curve of his mouth softened the severity of his expression. “And I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”
My voice stuck in my throat. I was so thrown off by Gabriel’s answer I couldn’t summon a proper
response.
He hated being wrong. I thought he wanted to see me fail just to prove he was right about my flakiness, but he looked genuinely happy for me. Well, as happy as Gabriel could look, which was still dour by normal standards.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one in the family who’d underestimated a sibling.
“Oh.” I coughed, heat coating my skin. “Um, thank you.”
Perhaps I should’ve seen his reaction coming. I came into my inheritance last year after he and my mother agreed that my finished manuscript and book deal met the clause’s terms. My mother had done most of the talking during our call, but Gabriel had voted yes on giving me the money. That counted for something, right?
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few months for Mom’s birthday. Hopefully, you’ll have started your second book by then. You can’t make a career off of one.”
I rolled my eyes as our moment of sibling bonding evaporated. It was nice to see Gabriel hadn’t changed that much.
When I hung up, my friends had drifted over to a non-fiction display featuring Leo Agnelli’s new travel memoir and a former Black & Co. executive’s tell-all detailing the company’s demise.
Alessandra kept checking and pocketing her phone. It was probably Dominic calling—and getting ignored—for the hundredth time. Good. The man deserved to suffer a little. Kai, on the other hand, was flipping through the latest Ruby Leigh.
“No,” I said. “Absolutely not. You’re not allowed to ruin her by translating her into Latin.”
“I hardly understand how that would ruin her,” he said, sounding offended. “I can translate Wilma Pebbles, but I can’t translate Ruby Leigh? You love both of them.”
He hadn’t done many Latin translations lately because he was so busy at the office. The work of a CEO never ended, especially not after the DigiStream acquisition, and its integration with the Young Corporation had taken over his life for months. Fortunately, it’d gone as smoothly as he’d hoped.
I guess he had time to indulge in his hobbies again, but I refused to let him touch my favorite author.
“I do love both of them, but I only let you translate Wilma so I can watch you struggle to find the right phrase for dinosaur dick in Latin.”
Another laugh bubbled in my throat when he placed the book back on the shelf and pulled me toward him with a mock threatening scowl.
“You should be glad it’s your big day, or I wouldn’t let that slide.” Kai stroked the back of my neck with his thumb. “How does it feel to be a published author?”
“Pretty damn amazing.” My face softened. I’d moved in with Kai last year, but no matter how many mornings I woke up next to him or how many nights we fell asleep together, I couldn’t quite get over the fact that this amazing man was mine. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yes, you could have.” His mouth skimmed mine in a gentle kiss. “But I’m glad we were able to do it together.”
He’d been there through the late nights, the caffeine crashes, and the mid-edit breakdowns. Yes, I could’ve survived them on my own, but he made the journey so much better. He always did.
I smiled and returned his kiss. “Me too.”
KAI
“Are you cheating?” Miguel demanded. “There’s no way you can win this many times in a row. It’s statistically impossible.”
“I don’t cheat.” I cleared the Scrabble board of tiles. “I simply have a large vocabulary.”
“Don’t bother arguing,” Isabella said over her family’s groans and protests. “He’s insufferable when it comes to board games.”
“To any game,” Romero muttered, obviously still smarting over his tennis loss earlier that day.
Isabella’s family and I were gathered at her mother’s house in Los Angeles for Christmasbirthdaynewyearpalooza, which they’d finally shortened to CBNYP. When I suggested the solution at last year’s celebration, they’d stared at me like I’d sprouted an extra head. Apparently, shortening the ridiculously long name into an acronym had never crossed their mind.
It was my second year celebrating with them, and I was comfortable enough that I no longer held back when it came to our games and activities.
We’d started the day with piano performances in honor of Isabella’s father. She’d played a Chopin piece while I followed it up with the “Hammerklavier.” My rendition had come a long way since the stunning realization that Isabella could outplay me years ago. After much practice, I’d perfected it to the point where even her lolo greeted its conclusion with tears in his eyes.
Isabella insisted I owed my improvement not to practice but to finding the thing I’d been “lacking.”
Heart.
Which was ridiculous. Practice made perfect, not heart. But I kept her close to me anyway.
“What’s next? I don’t think I can stand losing another round to Mr. Vocabularian here,” Clarissa quipped.
In her jeans, tank top, and sandals, she looked wildly different from the pearls and tweed-wearing socialite who’d moved to Manhattan two years ago.
Clarissa and Felix officially started dating not long after Isabella and I got back together. She’d moved to L.A. last year and currently worked at the local museum where he was the artist in residence. Her parents had pitched a fit, but there wasn’t much they could do about it, and California suited her. She seemed happier and more relaxed here than she ever had in New York.
“Darts,” I said, exchanging a quick glance with Felix. “Last game of the day.”
This time, Isabella was the one who groaned. “I’m convinced you’re doing this on purpose,” she said as we walked out to the backyard. “You keep choosing the activities I’m not—oh my God.”