“It is. I love my job. I’ll show you around.”
She takes my bag for me, leading me into a kitchen, bright and airy with pale wood floors and white stone countertops. Huge glass doors at the far end lead out to a small garden, full of plants and trees. A tray of cooling blueberry muffins sits on the island, and if I wasn’t too embarrassed, I’d beg her for one. They smell ridiculous. “Are the girls home?”
“Emily will pick them up from school in a few hours, so you have some time to yourself before then.”
“I definitely need a shower.”
“Here, I’ll show you Alex’s bathroom. He already had me go out and grab you some things. I can give you a full tour later, if you like. I’m guessing you’re exhausted.”
Alex’s room is at the end of the second-floor hallway. A giant cream rug covers most of the hardwood floor, a huge teak bedframe at the center of the back wall. Maybe I’m just tired, but the white cloud of soft bedding looks like it’ll be the comfiest thing in the world.
As always with his rooms, the space is immaculate, but the desk is utter chaos. Piles of sketchbooks, books, letters for his mom, study notes, architecture journals. There are at least a dozen sketches of me scattered across it all.
In the giant en suite—I’ll never understand why a bathroom needs two sinks—there’s a wicker basket with shampoo, nice soap, a hairbrush, tampons, some soft sweatpants, pajamas, cookies, and a packet of Jelly Babies.
Ophelia
I’m spoiled. Thank you.
Alex
Did Ingrid meet you?
Ophelia
Yes, she’s lovely.
Alex
I have nightmares in which that woman retires. She’s worked here for fifteen years.
Ophelia
I might marry her instead of you.
Alex
Her husband works for us too, as a driver.
Ophelia
Damn it. Never mind, then. Gonna shower and take a nap.
Alex
Send pic
That stupid emoji pings through, with the big watery eyes. I laugh, snapping a pic where the towel onlyjustcovers me.
Alex
You’re so hot, baby.
Ophelia
This shower is definitely big enough for two.
Alex
