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“You think?”
“Yep.” I hear her take a long drag on her cigarette. “I gotta get back to it. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. Enjoy the rest of your day!” I disconnect the call and toss my cup into the trash before heading out the door. The guy at the back of the coffee shop sets his newspaper aside and starts to get up just after I do.
I wonder if Kathy is right, and this guy really is here at Deklan’s request. Would my husband go so far as to have me followed when I leave the apartment?
Yes. Yes, he would.
My suspicions are confirmed when I get back to the apartment building and glance over my shoulder. The same man rounds the corner, sees me looking at him, and quickly crosses the street.
Subtle.
I’m annoyed as I head into the building and down the hall. I don’t like the idea of being followed. I consider confronting Deklan about it, but if I did, he’d just find someone else to keep an eye on me. That someone might be more discreet, and I might not notice him. I prefer to know who is watching over me and decide not to mention the man to Dek.
Besides, I have something else I want to discuss with him, and it’s best to fight one battle at a time.
For dinner, I make one of Deklan’s favorite dishes. I set up a couple of candles on the kitchen island and even acquire a bottle of wine using the sturdy stepstool Deklan bought so I can reach the top shelves. I also change my clothes to tight-fitting leggings, lacy underwear, and a low-cut shirt. I ditch my bra altogether.
I might not have a lot in my arsenal of male seduction methods, but I know how to arm myself with what I have.
I look over the spread, and a thought occurs to me: I’m being far too obvious. Deklan is going to take one look at all of this and know I’m up to something. I need to be more subtle than the guy Deklan has following me, so I put the wine and the candles away.
Hopefully, favorite foods and revealing clothing will be enough.
Just as I’m finishing up the cooking, Deklan arrives home, on time and hungry.
“This”—Deklan uses his fork to point at the half-eaten food on his plate—“is exactly what I needed.”
“I’m glad I could help.” I smile as I lean up against him. I run my hand over his thigh for good measure, and he turns his head to press his lips to mine. “Did you have a long day?”
“Felt like it.” He shovels another forkful into his mouth. “Just too much bullshit and not enough business.”
“Who is doing the bullshitting?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Deklan takes a drink from his glass of water and glances at me sideways. “I shouldn’t have brought it up since I’m not going to talk about it. How was your day?”
I’m still frustrated by my husband’s refusal to discuss business with me.
“It was fine.” I’m not quite ready to spring my question on Deklan, so I lean against him again, my hand still on his leg. I press my cheek to his arm and smile when he looks at me.
“You are very obvious, you know,” he says.
“Obvious?”
“You want something. Out with it.”
I look away from him and bite my lip. I’m caught off guard, and though I had a wonderful speech all prepared, I can’t seem to remember a word of it.
“I, um…I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“It’s about how I’ve been spending my days.”
Deklan’s eyes narrow and his shoulders tense. I don’t know what he’s got going on inside his head, but it must be bad, so I quickly start explaining myself.
“Cleaning this entire place from top to bottom takes about an hour and a half. Doing that every day is pretty much pointless. I can only cook so much for two people. You say it’s too dangerous to have internet access, and I can’t use my phone here. I’m bored, Deklan, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”
