Chapter Twelve

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The following morning I was ready and waiting in the lobby when Sandro exited the elevator, pulling his suitcase behind him. He gave me an easy smile.

"Are you ready?" he asked. 

"Yep," I answered quickly. His mood was throwing me off. I'd amped myself up to argue with an unreasonable Sandro for the next six hours, but this man looked happy; like the Sandro I'd fallen for so long ago. He dropped his key off at the desk and checked us out before walking toward me and the doors. He chucked me on the chin and grinned before passing me.

"Pick up the pace, Bellezza," he threw over his shoulder. I realized my mouth was hanging open in shock so I snapped it shut and ran after Sandro. Bellezza? 

"What's going on?" I asked when we got in the truck. 

"I had an epiphany." He laughed. 

"Is this something I should know?" 

He looked at me and smiled. "Maybe later."

He pulled out of the parking lot and I pulled out my phone and Googled 'bellezza.' Beauty. 

He'd called me beauty in Italian. 

I closed the tab on my phone and fought so hard to keep the huge grin from splitting my face, but it was too much. Instead, I looked out the window and let my joy overflow. 

"So, tell me more about what you want to go to college for," he said a few moments later. 

"I want to be a lawyer." 

He glanced at me quickly before looking back at the road. "I can see it."

"Really?" I smiled.

"Of course. You don't give up on things, which I think is a great quality for a lawyer to have," he said. He took a drink of his water, then continued. "Think about it; If you were wrongfully convicted of a crime, or even if you'd actually committed the crime, would you want your lawyer to give up when things got tough? I sure wouldn't."

"I like law," I said honestly. "My grandpa Murphy was a police officer. My dad became one and now Jake works for Taylorsville's police department. I don't think I could be a cop, but the idea of being in court fighting for people that need me... I have no words. Just talking about it gives me goosebumps."

"That's how I felt when I chose my job. It wasn't something I'd thought about as a kid, but when I realized I could protect people in a unique way, it was all I needed to hear."

"So you've been a bodyguard your whole adult life?"

"Yep. Sixteen years to be exact."

We settled into a comfortable silence, but Sandro started talking soon after. I wasn't sure what happened the night before, but it was like he didn't want us to stay quiet for very long. 

"I have a question for you," Sandro said when we stopped for gas a little while later. His door was shut and he rested his crossed arms on the open window. 

"Yes?"

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

My lips formed a smile. "Easy. I'd go to Italy." He cocked his head to the side and gave me a questioning look, so I added, "I want to see where your family is from."

He didn't say anything, but he stared into my eyes without flinching. He didn't look upset like I thought he'd be at the admission. Seconds ticked by while my pounding heart grew louder and louder in my ears. The pump clicked, signaling that the tank was full, and he moved away from the window, breaking the spell his eyes had held me in. 

My breathing felt uneasy as I tried to calm my racing heart. 

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