Anker sat up, smiling at Roxanne. “That’s right. So next season, you and I …”
There was a moment of silence. Clarke was waiting for him to complete that thought and he presumed Roxanne was too.
Finally, Roxanne said, “Yes, I’ll come up with some plan of action to help improve your public image.”
“I look forward to it.”
Clarke heard the sound of a match striking.
Weird.
He realized he wasn’t the only one who’d heard it when he saw Anker frowning and looking around.
When it happened again, Roxanne dug into her purse, pulled out her phone, and quickly shut it off. The color of a pink rose bloomed on her cheeks.
Roxanne Windsor was never flustered. But she was now.
And Clarke knew why. He was standing behind her and saw her phone before she’d shut it off.
Roxanne Windsor, the daughter of a Baron, whose family was related to a selection of viscounts, earls, dukes, and duchesses, not to mention some distant relation to the British royal family—was on a hookup app? A hookup app for people looking for kink?
“Okay, well,” Roxanne said, turning her head, glancing at a vase of flowers. “Those are pretty.” She bent over them and sniffed. “They smell heavenly.”
“Would you like them?” Anker asked.
“What?”
“I insist. I think they’re nice and all, but they’d be happier with you.”
Happier?
Clarke failed at his attempt to stifle a laugh.
Anker shot him a look before turning to Roxanne.
“I just mean you’d probably appreciate them more. You’re the kind of girl, I mean, lady—who should have pretty flowers around. You probably already do, so what’s another bunch?”
“I guess, I mean, if you don’t want them. I’m not sure how I’ll carry them around today. I have a couple of other appointments.”
“One of the nurses can wrap them up. Clarke can give them your address, and they can send the flowers to your place.”
“Seems like a lot of work for one small bunch of flowers.”
“Oh, there are more. I just didn’t want them cluttering up my room. The nurses took them to the break room. So I’ll have them wrap those up too, and they can send them over as well.”
“I wouldn’t want to take them from the nurses.”
“Oh, they don’t want them. One of them was just telling me they were going to throw them out because the smell, you know, it’s not good when you’re trying to eat.”
She nodded. “Oh. Okay.” She looked over at Clarke. “Well, I’ll wait for you out there.”
Once she was gone, Anker pointed to his cell phone sitting on a table in the corner. “Hey, can you hand me my phone?”
Clarke picked it up and gave it to him.
Anker began dialing. “Okay, well I guess we’re done here. Don’t think any of this makes us pals. It doesn’t. I’m getting back on that track and when I do, I’m going to kick your ass. And kick it fucking hard.”
There’s the Anker we all know and love—well, some of us love, in a weird, perverted kind of way.
