Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
His golden skin with reddish undertones gleamed in the light, the contrast of his white teeth as he gave her a friendly smile making Cece grin back even with her cup up to drink from. His eyes were a darker brown than even hers, but still warm. He constantly followed her ma around when she was in Cali, and sometimes, even in New York or wherever her ma went to do business.
Cece thought they were friends, but she didn’t know.
“And what did you want to speak to me about?” he asked.
Catherine glanced down at Cece. “Her, Miguel.”
“Pardon?”
“Did you notice she was all over the place today?”
He shrugged. “She’s a kid—she’s gonna run, Catherine.”
“Right, but I need to have my eyes on her, either way. Or rather, a pair of eyes that I trust. You get what I am saying?”
“Please tell me you don’t mean for me to be a babysi—”
“That’s a little juvenile and rude, considering.”
“I’m sorry?”
“What is the most important thing in my life, Miguel?”
He cleared his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. “Listen, I don’t mean to say that she doesn’t need someone looking after her, but do you really think it should be me, Catherine? I’ve had your back for years in this business. I’m not sure putting me on the kid is going to benefit you or this organization in any real way.”
“Except it will because she is the future of it.”
His gaze darted between her mother, and then Cece.
It took a second.
Then, two.
“I love the kid, you know that.”
“Why do you think I asked you, Miguel?”
“She won’t even say my name. I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“She does,” her ma assured. “You like Miguel, don’t you, Cece?”
She peered up at the big man.
She saw lots of those before.
Most scared her.
Not Miguel, though.
She tried so hard to form his name properly in her mind, to make her mouth say it the right way, but all that came out was, “I likes Miggy.”
Catherine grinned. “See, Miggy.”
“Jesus Christ—don’t.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“My Miggy?” Cece asked.
Catherine nodded. “Yeah, he’s going to be yours.”
She smiled at the man. “My Miggy.”
Miguel looked Catherine’s way with the most exasperated expression he could muster. “If someone else calls me that, I will rip their esophagus out.”
Cece frowned.
She didn’t know what that was.
Didn’t sound good, though.
“Me, too?” she asked him.
Instantly, the man’s irritation melted away. “Never you, Cece.”
Right.
Because he was her Miggy.
Her ma said so.
Chapter 2 - Juan
Cece POV
Three years old ...
“I can’t wait to see you, Cece.”
She grinned down at the face of her father staring back at her from the iPad in her lap. The car swayed as it took a turn in downtown Los Angeles, coming out of the roundabout which always made her dizzy after they went around a time or two, but she barely noticed it all while she spoke to her dad.
“Tomorrow?” she asked.
Cross nodded. “Around lunch.”
Good.
She missed her da.
“All right, give the tablet back to Ma, and I will call you tonight. Okay?”
Cece nodded. “All right. Loves my daddy, Daddy.”
Cross smiled. “Love you, my girl.”
Next to her in the back seat, her mother took the tablet from her hands. A quick word passed between her mother and father before the tablet was shut off and put to the side. By then, Cece had already turned to look out the window at the passing buildings. Familiar to her now, really, because she had driven these streets with her mother and a driver in the front countless times before.
Again and again.
To her, California felt like home, too.
Same as New York.
Soon, they came to a familiar restaurant where her mother always liked to eat if they arrived at a good time and weren’t exhausted coming into town. Because then, Cece wasn’t in any kind of mood and her ma liked to say she needed a nap. Even if she didn’t want to have a nap. She still had a nap, though.
Her mother only stepped out of the car after the driver—usually it was Miguel, but this week, someone different had picked them up at the private jet strip—came around to open her door. Miguel would usually take Cece out of her car seat, if he was driving them, but today it was her mother.
“Where’s my Miggy?”
“Inside,” her ma said.
Oh.
“Why?”
“His wife had a last-minute thing,” Catherine said as though Cece were supposed to just understand what that meant. She really didn’t. “And so, we had to make other arrangements. But he’s waiting inside, and he’ll be with us for the rest of the week.”
Well, Cece understood and liked that well enough.
“Okay!”
The driver followed them to the front door of the restaurant, and only turned back to return to his vehicle once they were safely inside. Cece was still looking over her shoulder, watching the man leave, as they headed deeper, her mother walking straight past the woman at the podium as though she were important enough to simply walk in and pick whatever table she wanted to eat at that day.