Page 20 of Tasty Cherry

The two carts sit by the back door, already partially piled with suitcases and boxes. I’m sure the other three have a lot more to bring in as well.

But that means Bertie was here. I missed him. Damn. I really wanted to get an idea from him if Mila seemed upset, or off in any way.

One of the bags on the second cart looks familiar. I pass Raya to look at it more closely.

That’s odd. It’s exactly like the one Mila was carrying.

The one I saw on the floor of her hotel room.

And isn’t that her rolling case? I distinctly remember the bright pink tie.

I stare at it, my brain trying to solve this unexpected puzzle, when the door opens.

The first young woman is petite, dark-haired, and Hispanic. She seems surprised to see me so close, but quickly drops two boxes on a cart.

And behind her, sporting one of the white intern badges, is a face I absolutely recognize. Eyes I stared into. A mouth I kissed. A lot.

Mila.

9

MILA

Oh, God.

Here we are again.

I can tell by his expression that this is a shock. I had hoped that maybe he saw the last two badges Raya was holding before she passed them over. She said Sebastian had gone to show the other three interns their rooms, so he had been right there with the ID cards.

But no, he’s figuring it out right now. Right in front of me.

His eyes hold mine for a moment. “Hey.”

I manage to swallow and echo back a quiet, “Hey.”

Ilsa, the intern from California who walked in with me, jerks her head our way, looking from Sebastian to me. Something in our tone has tipped her off.

I can’t do anything about that. I don’t know what he’s going to say or do.

But he grins, like this is the best thing ever. Like maybe he’s the fox, and he’s spotted me in the henhouse. “You’re an intern.”

My throat feels tight, and my voice is barely a squeak. “I am.”

Ilsa busies herself with her bags, but I can feel her attention. This is not good. I’m tempted to run.

Sebastian rocks back on his heels. “You didn’t mention this earlier.”

Ilsa is stock-still. I tilt my head in her direction.

Sebastian clears his throat. “Right. Welcome aboard. It’s good to see a friendly face.” He extends a hand, and I shake it. “And who is this?”

Ilsa straightens to greet him. “Ilsa Lopez.”

Sebastian gives her a nod. “Excellent. Do you have more to load?”

“I do,” I say.

“I do, too.” Ilsa’s eyes cut back to me.