XANDER
“XANDER,” BELLA greeted me as she walked in, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Have you thought about it?”
“Thought about what?” I hedged, not wanting to have the conversation with her. I hadn’t changed my mind.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she scolded. Twisting the cap off the bottle of water, she took a sip before continuing. “Can Viola stay with you?”
“I don’t think it’s going to work,” I said simply.
“What wouldn’t work about it?” She shook her head at me. “You work all the time. You’ll hardly even know she’s in the house. She could even cook meals for you if you want; she’s really good at that.”
“I have a personal chef who does that at the beginning of every week,” I told her. “I don’t see how she could be invisible. I’ve had to listen to the two of you c
