Page 163 of Blue Gold

“It’s normal to be nervous, as it’s your job, and you love it. But I assure you, Vito’s absolutely thrilled to see you doing better.” I caressed his arm.

“And what about your work? Are you really unemployed now?”

Poking the inside of my cheek, I thought of that word—unemployed.

“I guess I am.” I hummed. “Weird, isn’t it?”

Not finding the situation amusing, Elliot’s scowl deepened.

“What will you do, then? About work, money?”

“I guess we’ll have to cut our expenses––”

Grabbing my arm, he shook me, “I’m being serious, Daniel.”

“So am I,” I said, then coughed to hide my smile. “Listen.” I half turned in my seat to fully face him. “I have more than enough money saved up, along with some investment in the market that still brings me a decent profit. Not to mention, I already have plans⁠—”

“You do?” His brows rose, making him look absolutely precious.

“I do.” I pinched his cheek. “And even if I didn’t, it’s still nothing you should worry about.”

He pushed my hand away, eyes determined. “Once I’m back at work, I want to pay, too.”

Knowing his independence meant a lot to him, I pushed aside my primitive instinct to provide for him and said, “Okay.”

Pleased, Elliot grabbed his iPod, then put his headphones back on. Thinking I’d put his concerns to rest, I picked up the new book I’d bought at the airport. Not even one page in, Elliot took off the headphones and asked⁠—

“Can you tell me about the therapy center again?”

Putting the book aside, I shifted to him. “What would you like to know?”

I’d already told him everything there was to know about the treatment facility specializing in eating disorders that Vito’s friend had helped me find. Still, if hearing about it again would relax him, I would repeat it a hundred times over.

“I don’t know… where is it?”

“Sonoma Valley, California. It’s a beautiful place, full of vineyards and great sun. I think you’ll like it there.”

His brows drew close. “Is it near New York?”

I snorted. “Not at all. It’s on the West Coast. New York is on the East Coast.”

He pouted. “So how will I see you?”

I took his hand in mine, tangling our fingers together. “Like I explained earlier, the facility is closed to visitors during the week, but⁠—”

“On the weekends, you’ll come and see me.” He completed my words, eyes pinned on our joined hands.

“Yes.”

“What if it’s not enough?”

“Then I’ll come more often.”

“And what if I don’t like it there?”

“Then we’ll find a different place or a method that works better for you.”

He turned quiet, but I knew he had more to ask, so I bumped my shoulder with his.