Chapter Twenty-Eight
Evie
Weeks passed, and I was in a haze of bliss. I still couldn’t quite believe Dawson loved me. Late one afternoon, I draped a cape over Valentina’s shoulders in the back of the staff kitchen. Valentina had begged me to cut her red curls. Her hair was so glorious it was almost not fair. I reluctantly agreed on the condition that I took no more than an inch.
Valentina sat in the back of the staff kitchen, her feet tucked over the rungs of a stool as I eyed the wild tumble of curls. “Only an inch,” she said firmly.
“Yes, ma’am. Shall I gather the clippings and put them in a locket for Lucas?” I teased.
Valentina blushed, and her cheeks went pink as she rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Somehow, I doubt Lucas would think so.” That earned me another eye roll. “
