Page 90 of Claimed At First Sight

“I do,” I mutter. “Chauvinistic. Pig-headed. Completely delusional.”

Rory snorts into her coffee. The server drops off my espresso, and I tear open the sugar packets a tad aggressively.

My new friend’s expression turns more serious.

“I hate to break it to you, but Maximo Marco tends to get what he wants.”

“Why does everybody keep telling me this?” I mutter, pouring in the sugar and stirring the cup.

“Arranged marriages are pretty much the norm in your circles, though, aren’t they?”

Her comment brings back memories of color-coded spreadsheets and Father’s endless agendas.

My stomach twists.

I reach for my cup and take a sip. The espresso tastes bitter, though I’m not convinced it’s just the coffee.

“They are,” I admit. “But I’m determined to decide my own fate. My father died a few months ago and Mamma assures us she’ll let us pick our own husbands.”

Rory nods. “I obviously don’t know you that well yet, but I get the feeling if any woman can pull that off, it’s you.”

I search her face, but find only sincerity.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Rory looks out of the window and then back at me.

“This conversation has turned a bit heavy. How about I show you some of the city? You know, in case Chicago becomes your new home,” she teases, nudging me playfully.

“Don’t even joke about that,” I laugh. “But yes, let’s go exploring.”

She grins before glancing at the guards. Leaning forward, she lowers her voice.

“You wanna lose them?”

My eyes light up. “Yes, please.”

A laugh escapes her. “I knew I liked you.”

“Same.”

Rory glances toward the hallway near the counter.

“Okay. Here’s the plan. Go to the bathroom in like two minutes.”

I blink. “That’s the plan?”

“There’s a window.”

I stare at her. “Okay.”

“You climb out of it,” she says. “It leads into an alley behind the building. I’ll meet you there.”

“And you know all of this because you climb out of it yourself?” I joke.

“Yes, I have, in fact. I was escaping a disastrous date.”

Now that’s an answer I didn’t expect.