“PAPAAA!”
“Jesus!” I exclaim, cringing against the noise. “Do you need to scream?”
She takes a step back but eyes me carefully. The white-brown collie beside her cocks his head to the side as though he’s trying to figure me out, too.
“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you it’s not polite to stare?”
“I saved your life,” she says without flinching. “I think I’ve been very polite.”
Damn. She’s got me there.
I smile. The effort hurts. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?” she retorts.
My smile gets wider. I like this kid.
“Wait, I think I remember hearing it once or twice… Camila?” I venture a guess. “No, that’s not it. Cristina?”
“Carla!” she interrupts proudly, unable to help herself.
“That’s it. I was close.”
“My full name is Carla Amengual de la Cavallería Hernandez.”
“Yikes. Bless you.”
A burst of laughter escapes her lips. “You’re funny.”
“Carlita?”
She glances back over her shoulder. “That’s Papa,” she warns. “Be cool.”
I have to hold back my laughter at her whispered instruction. I’m glad I do, because a second later, her father fills the entire threshold of the door.
“Well, well… you’re finally up.”
Carla looks just like him. She’s got his calm features, his hazel eyes. But she’s just a reedy little girl, no more than nine or ten, while he’s a big, bearded guy with sun-tanned forearms.
“Carlita,” he says, “why don’t you go get our guest a glass of water?”
Her expression scrunches up immediately. “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”
“I just want to talk to the gentleman.”
Gentleman? Haven’t ever been accused of being that before.
“Alone?” Carla balks, raising her eyebrows. “I think I should be there, too.”
“Carlita…” her father growls.
I have a feeling that arguments and negotiations are a daily occurrence between these two. They’re growing on me already.
Of course, them saving my life doesn’t hurt in that department.
“Papa, I was the one that found him. I was the one that wanted to save him. I think I should be here to talk to him.”
Knew I liked this kid.