He looks at the phone, frowning.
Naturally. Because when isn’t he frowning?
I glimpse a different name and a different avatar.
He dismisses the call and props his hands on his hips. Which draws my eye to those perfect muscles at his hips.
At the risk of swooning again, I sit in the sole chair.
As the phone starts ringing again.
“You can take the call if you need to.” I feign interest in the puzzle. “Don’t mind me.”
He’s clearly just started the puzzle, because none of the pieces are together and he’s only just started sorting out the side pieces.
He dismisses this call too and sits on the sofa, catty-corner to me.
Legs spread wide, elbows on his knees, he adopts a posture of being deeply put upon.
“Is this really necessary?”
“This puzzle?” I ask, because . . . okay, I know it will annoy him.
And, I can’t help it. Annoying him is more fun than being ignored by him.
If I have to do this, if I have to give up my free time to do this “favor” for the good of his career and for the good of the university, then by God I’m going to do it my way. Not his.
“No. You being here. Is it really necessary?”
Ha! So I was right! He doesn’t like that I’m here in his house.
Probably worried about germs. The jack apple.
“Yes.” I flash him a serene smile. “Me being here is really necessary. Setting up your social media is a priority. And it’s something I can’t do for you, because you need all the login information. Once it’s set up, a certain amount of it can be done by Gwen or whatever university lackey you want to push it off on. But this part has to be done by you.”
“It has to be done right now?”
“Yes. It just so happens that this is the only free time I have in the coming week. So it has to be done now.”
The home inspection is scheduled for Monday, which means I have to do the rest of the prep work for that this afternoon and tomorrow. Then I have a series of interviews early next week.
None of which he needs to know about. Not that he would care about them if he did know. Because he clearly thinks his schedule is more important than anyone else’s.
The jerk.
I hold out my hand. “Let me have your phone.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Why?”
“So I can load the apps for you.”
“What apps?”
“The social media apps. Pay attention.”
If he wasn’t one of the smartest people I’d ever met, I’d be tempted to tell him it’s a good thing he’s pretty.
He puts the phone in my hand and I immediately hand it back. “You have to unlock it first.”
