True North (Bad Idea Book 3) by Nicole French

Author:Nicole French [French, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Raglan Publishing
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Nico

Dr. Barros pulls the car into the underground parking garage of a giant high-rise that’s basically beachfront––-it’s right across the 4-lane thoroughfare that runs alongside one of the major beaches in Vila Velha right on the main Praia da Costa, according to all of the street signs. The two cities, like Layla told me earlier, separated by only a small bay, are basically one big one––each one is probably about the size of one of the boroughs in New York.

Praia da Costa is on the other side of a giant––and I mean giant––arched bridge that towers over the bay and drops down into Vila Velha right next to a big white building that looks like some kind of church, perched on one of the egg-shaped hills that seem to rise everywhere up and down the coast.

“We should walk up there tomorrow,” Layla says as she points to it. “It’s this old convent. Nico, it’s so pretty.”

I nod. I wouldn’t mind jogging up that hill right about now. I’ve just spent way too many hours crammed into three square feet on three different airplanes. My body needs movement right now, and nothing else.

But first things first: I gotta get this guy to stop looking at me like he wants to toss me off that bridge we just drove over.

I’ve known him for less than an hour, but I don’t like Dr. Barros. I don’t like the way he’s barely said hello to his daughter even though he hasn’t seen her for eighteen months. I don’t like the fact that he keeps correcting and chiding her like she’s seven years old. I don’t like the fact that he keeps glaring at the tattoos on my arm like I have 666 printed on my bicep.

And I really don’t like the sad way Layla keeps looking at him––like a beautiful, blue-eyed puppy begging to be pet.

“So, you must be really proud of Layla, Dr. Barros,” I venture as we take the elevator up from the garage with our bags.

Dr. Barros turns around with an arched brow. “Proud? Of what?”

Beside me, Layla wilts, and I have to physically force down the growl in my chest. Is it fucked up that I want to punch that smug look off his face? What the fuck does he mean, “proud of what?” Layla’s a fucking incredible person, and you’d think the guy who fucking raised her would understand that. Dick.

“Well, to start, she’s killing it in school,” I say, receiving a grateful smile from Layla. “You know every school of social work in the state is going to be throwing money at her for next year.”

“Social work?”

The elevator doors ring open, but no one leaves. Dr. Barros steps in between them so they won’t close, then turns to face his daughter.

“What is he talking about?” he asks.

Beside me, Layla shrinks into my shoulder. Fuck. I didn’t want to get her into trouble with her dad––I was just trying to focus on the good stuff. I thought she would have told him about her applications by now.

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