I close my door and lean my head against it, sighing.
The shower is still waiting.
My evening, however, is currently living in Patty McGee’s cruise budget.
I glance down at the stack of papers in my hands.
In my nightstand drawer is a list titledTry Something You’ve Never Done.
Apparently tonight’s item isDisappoint Yourself, although I think I’ve been doing that for a very long time.
I sigh before I go to my office to grab my calculator so I can spread these papers out on the kitchen counter and crunch some numbers.
14
SADIE
“You really didn’t haveto do this,” I say as Grant applies a bead of caulk along the back of my counters. He does so with precision, biting his lower lip as he concentrates. And thanks to Sophie, I notice he’s wearing a tight white T-shirt and backward hat again. Well, I noticed before, but now I’m really noticing.
“I just saw it when I was over here. Easy fix,” he murmurs as he continues to perform the task.
“Well, thank you. I do appreciate it. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee would be great. It was quite the day at work,” he answers.
“Oh really?” I grab the bag of coffee and begin to scoop some into the filter before filling the coffee pot with water at the sink.
“Yeah. I saw this gorgeous woman across the street and couldn’t really get anything else done.” He looks over at me with a hint of a smirk and mouths,It was you.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I look back down at the coffee pot and turn off the water. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Oh, very much personal. Not so much a problem.”
I don’t answer as I pour the water into the machine and push the button.
Grant continues with his self-delegated chore, and soon the kitchen smells warm. I grab two mugs from the cabinet above the coffee machine, then open the fridge.
“Creamer?” I ask.
“No, thanks.”
I close the fridge door.
“So, how’s work?” he asks.
I shrug. “Lots of numbers that aren’t mine.”
He glances over at me, a hint of concern scrunching his brows together. “You don’t like your job, do you?”
“I—” I take the coffee pot and pour some into one of the mugs. “It’s not—” I fill the other mug. “It’s complicated.”
I hand him a mug and he takes it. “Or it’s really simple.”
I gently blow the hot coffee in my cup and shake my head.
“It’s like the pizza,” he says. I tilt my head and he continues, “You were going to say the pizza was fine, but then what did you admit instead?”
My lips press together and I shake my head. “That was pizza, not . . .”
