When I let her go, she spun around, our chests grazing. Her brown eyes were rich soil, full of life and questions. “Are we friends now?”
I laughed at her bluntness, not her question. I didn’t know what we were, but I couldn’t say we were friends. “We’re more than that.”
She nodded, blinking rapidly in confusion. “How did that happen?”
My mouth hitched, and the fist in my chest sprung open, scratching at my inner walls. I didn’t have an answer to that either, even though I’d been asking myself that very same thing.
“Go get dressed.”
Her nose crinkled, but she listened. Walking away with a sassy sway to her full hips that would have brought a lesser man to his knees, she let me hear her mutter, “So bossy.”
At least she wasn’t calling me intolerable.
Josephine passed out as soon as we put her in the car and started driving, so we stopped at a food truck for lunch and ate tacos in my car, with the windows cracked. The cool, crisp winter air filtered in.
“I bet you’ve never eaten tacos in this car,” Catherine teased.
“Absolutely not. I’ve never considered it.” I took a big bite of my taco, chicken, cilantro, and avocado bursting and mingling on my tongue. “I’m questioning a lot of my choices right now.”
She snorted behind her napkin. “It’s okay to be human and messy sometimes.”
“I don’t mind mess.”
“Oh, so it’s the human bit that bugs you?”
“I have a strong need for order. It keeps me sane.” I popped the rest of my taco in my mouth and let my head fall back on the seat.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, as long as it doesn’t take over your life.”
My need for order had most definitely taken over my life. There was no question I avoided situations and people who had the potential to be chaotic. Luca was as far as I veered off the path, and his chaos was predictable, except for his sudden marriage—that had thrown me for a loop. Fortunately for all of us, I’d recovered.
Some might have seen my choice to bring Catherine and Josephine into my home as another veer off my perfectly controlled path, but I didn’t. It had been a spontaneous decision, yes, but it hadn’t been without foresight. Catherine wasn’t an unknown entity. Her life might have been in chaos, but she wasn’t. Her presence was relaxing and calm, soothing and bright. She wasn’t a ray of sunshine, more like a cool breeze on a scorching day. That had been true about her from the moment I’d spotted her.
“There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
She wiped her mouth, her brows raised. “Ask it.”
“Is Little Women your favorite book?”
Shifting so one leg was bent under the other, she faced me, elbow on the console, chin on her fist, settling in to talk about books. “Jo March is my favorite character. The book is up there too.”
“So you named your daughter after her.”
“Yeah.” She wadded her trash up and stuffed it in the paper bag sitting on the console between us. “The first time I read the book, I identified myself as an Amy, but I really wished I was a Jo, so I promised myself if I ever had a daughter, I’d name her that to give her a head start.”
I scratched my head. “It’s been a long time since I read Little Women. Wasn’t Amy a spoiled, coddled brat? I find it hard to believe you saw yourself in her.”
“Well, you didn’t know younger me. I was a selfish, melodramatic wild child. My parents had indulged me until I’d pushed them too far. They sent me to Mexico instead of France, like Amy.”
“What? They sent you away? No wonder you don’t speak to them.”
“I was a mess, and they didn’t know how to deal with me. I met this guy when I was sixteen. An angry, deviant punk who’d encouraged that side of me. We had a lot of fun being mad at the world together.” Her laugh was unmistakably bitter. “This is where I should confess something to you that might change your opinion of me.”
I had a guess what her confession might’ve been. “Is this about your arrest?”
Her eyes bugged. “You know?”
“Only what your background check told me. I’d like to hear it from you.”
“Of course, the background check,” she whispered to herself. “The guy, the bad boyfriend, sort of radicalized me. I was an easy target, already feeling like I was a square peg in a round hole, and he fed off it. We got involved with this group who’d probably started with good intentions but had run amuck somewhere. They were antidevelopment, and my father—”
“Is Samson Warner. One of the biggest property developers on the East Coast.”
“You really were thorough.” She blew out a heavy breath. “Then you know my father isn’t as scrupulous as you.”
Samson Warner had made a name for himself by going into poor neighborhoods, buying homes out from under people who might have lived there for generations, and razing them to the ground. Then, he replaced the homes with gleaming towers only the wealthiest could afford. His business model wasn’t anything I’d choose to emulate, and I could see why a teenage Catherine would have bucked against him with all her might.
“I do know that. Is that why you broke into his building?” I asked.
“I’m not going to claim to be some noble freedom fighter. I was involved with this group hell-bent on destruction. It so happened they found out who my father was and decided he’d be their next target. I went along with it because I’d been too caught up to think for myself.” She pushed out another laugh. “Police showed up within minutes. I’d barely spray painted ‘eat the rich’ before I was handcuffed.”
“Little rebel. I’m surprised you wanted to work for me, given what I do.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I think you know, after all this time, I admire the way you conduct your business. But since you found out about my criminal past before you hired me, I’m surprised you wanted me to work for you.”
“It’s the age-old adage: keep your enemies close,” I drawled, which made her laugh. I joined her amusement. Catherine was the furthest thing from my enemy.
I probably should have been more concerned by this story, but I found it endearing. Young and wild Catherine, with her spray paint and convictions. Fuck the guy who had let her get arrested, though. I’d checked on him too. He was living on a muddy commune in Oregon, sharing a woman with two other men.
“My parents didn’t find what I’d done amusing. They had me on a plane within forty-eight hours of my release from jail.”