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“No, I’m not. I’m?—”

“Hey, watch out.” I grab her by the wrist and pull her towards me before a short little boy knocks into her. He stops and looks up at us, a huge gap in his front teeth.

“Sorry, I was just racing my best friend,” he says, giggling as he continues on his way. About five seconds later, a small, chubby boy comes running down the road behind them.

“Wait up, Evan! You’re cheating!” He stops for a few seconds, breaths deeply and shouts, “You’re cheating!” I look at Elisabetta, who looks at me and gives me a wry smile as he runs off again. I wonder where their parents are, but five seconds later, I notice a man with a dazed expression on his face hurrying past us with two Spiderman backpacks and a basketball in his hand.

“Welcome to New York, where the Olympics are held on the streets every single day. You’re okay, right?” I ask her.

“Yeah. Thank you for helping me avoid getting hit.” Her eyes twinkle as she looks me in the eye. “I appreciate it because I totally didn’t see that little boy coming, and he totally would have hit me, and I would have been on the street.”

“I wouldn’t have let you fall,” I say, my fingers now holding hers. She blushes slightly and looks down. The moment feels heavy, and I don't know why. I let go of her hands and take a step back. “We’re only about two blocks away now.”

“Sounds good,” she says, nodding.

“So, your sister… She’s married or?—?”

“No.” I shake my head. “She’s a single mom. She's doing the best that she can, and I try to be there for my niece as much as possible.”

“That's good,” she says. “I think it’s important to have family members who care and will stand up in a situation like that.”

“What was it like not having a mom?" I ask her. not knowing if this is a conversation she’s interested in having, especially with me, someone she doesn’t particularly like.

“It was hard.” She makes a face. “I was okay for about the first ten, eleven years of my life, but then when I started getting my period and growing breasts and liking boys, I had no one toturn to. My aunts were lovely, but they just weren’t interested in conversations like that. My dad was never really there.” She makes a face. “It was hard having girls show up in cute clothes, knowing how to do makeup and straighten their hair, whereas I just had to watch videos online to figure out what to do.” She blinks. “I mainly turned into a tomboy, but then I met Skye.”

“Skye helped you become a woman?” I look at her in surprise, and she bursts out laughing.

“No, I helped Skye with her fashion sense and she helped me understand what it was to have a friend who is like family. She is a really loving, caring person with a maternal instinct, which is crazy because she’s obviously not a mother yet, but she kind of took me under her wing. It’s weird because people look at our dynamic, and they think that Skye’s the one who benefited from our friendship because I have money, and I know how to flirt and all that good stuff, but honestly, I'm the one who benefited. I'm the one who came out a winner here. That's why I do anything in my power to ensure that Skye doesn’t hurt or have to go through crappy situations, no offense.”

“No offense taken.” I nod. “So Skye hated working for me that much, huh?” Hearing that hurts, not because it wasn’t by design but because I don’t want Elisabetta to think of me that way. I don't want her to think of me so negatively, but that had been the plan.

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t make it easy on her. You were a jackass, and from what I can tell, you were even more of a jackass to her than you were to Juniper and Lila, and I don't know why because she was just helping you and?—”

“Maybe I've just had a long couple of weeks.” I shrug.“Business has been rough. I’ve been trying to get some projects off the ground, and life has become a little more complicated because of that.”

“So tell me, Liam Gallagher, what are your business endeavors? I'm going to be working for you. Shouldn’t I know that?”

“Primarily real estate and vacation rentals and hotel groups,” I say, staring at her, wondering if I'll see any recognition in her eyes.

“Okay, cool.”

“In fact, The Watermelon Hole is a boutique hotel here in the city that I'm thinking about investing in, and I would love to get your opinion as a beautiful, intelligent woman with good taste.”

“You think I'm beautiful, intelligent, and have good taste?” She tilts her head to the side as if she doesn't believe me.

“I mean, you’re working for me, so yeah.” I don't tell her that I would like to get to know her a lot better, for multiple reasons. And none of them are work-related, though not’s quite true.

“Well, I mean, you’re not wrong, but what exactly do you want to know?”

“I want to know if The Watermelon Hole is somewhere you might stay.” I'm serious now. I do want her opinion. “I’m actually in the process of buying a hotel chain in Italy and Greece and possibly another one in the Turks and Caicos, and if I do, I was thinking about them all having the same theme, similar to The Watermelon Hole. I’d want to know what someone like you might think of such a thing.” I pause. "And when I say someone like you, I mean someone with impeccable taste."

“I mean, if there are going to be watermelons everywhere, that's a no,” she says, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “That’s way too niche. Especially for a luxury resort.”

“You don’t like niche?” I frown. Every market researcher at my company stated that niche was in and that watermelons represented bright, happy, and fun, which were qualities consumers were looking for when planning trips.

“I mean niche is okay for certain groups and short stays at Disney or something. However, clientele interested in going to the Mediterranean or the Caribbean are not that into watermelons. They don't want to be hanging out with watermelons everywhere they go. I mean, that’s just tacky.”

“Tacky? Well, I don't want to be known to be as the tacky king."