Julietta / Julia
“Where do you live, Aunt Julia?” Diego asked from the backseat. He was the most adorable boy I had ever met - kind, curious, mischievous, yet a thorough gentleman when he wanted to be one.
“66 West St, Brooklyn. But you can drop me at the Greenpoint Avenue crossing.” I didn’t dare to glance at his smoking-hot father beside me. His behavior annoyed me so much, I had no wish to acknowledge his existence. Although he was behind the steering wheel, I was happy to give him the silent treatment and interact only with Diego. It had the desired effect of shutting him up in front of his son.
“Oh, that’s not a problem at all. We’ll drop you at West St. Right, Dad?”
I glanced at his dad to see the grim look on his face. A brief nod was all he conceded.
“Umm, you can drop me
