Page 38 of Mr. Perfect

“What time did you get home?”

“Hours ago, OK? I was asleep and now you’ve woken me up. I prefer to get my eight hours in before work, Stonewall. Stop calling me.”

She ends the call again.

Stonewall? What happened to Mac? And what the hell is her problem? We had a great time today at the office. I scroll up the message stream, find what I’m looking for, then download and add the picture of the sheepdogs, texting, You sent this to Heath’s phone at one AM two weeks ago. Eleven o’clock is early by your standards.

My phone rings and I smile as I tab answer. “Yes, Miss Hatcher.”

“I want that phone.”

“Company property, Eloise. I already told you that.”

“I want that phone so I can delete that message stream, and then I will give it straight back.”

“Now why would I let you do that? These messages are golden. I haven’t been this interested in someone’s life in years.”

“Mr. Stonewall—”

“Mac,” I remind her.

“Mac.” She sounds a little defeated now, her voice softer. Or maybe she’s just tired. “Please. Stop calling me tonight. Stop texting me tonight. And tomorrow, I need proof that those messages are deleted.”

“Date number three. I think not.”

“It’s two, Mac. Two. And I’m only playing along because you’re making me.”

“Date number two then. We need five dates before I delete the messages.”

She groans. “You do realize this is blackmail, right?”

“Yeah. So?” I almost can’t stop the laugh.

“It’s illegal!”

“It’s fun, Ellie. Admit it. It’s fun.”

“Just delete those messages, please.”

“After the fifth date.”

“After we have sex, you mean.”

“After we have sex again,” I correct her. “This five-date minimum is silly, Ellie. We’ve already experienced each other’s bodies—”

She ends the call again.

I have to chuckle at this. I’ll drop it tonight. But only because of the many, many surprises I have planned for her tomorrow.

Chapter Sixteen - Ellie

Did McAllister Stonewall really call me last night? Jesus, I should not be allowed to answer the phone when I’m asleep. I roll over in bed and grab my phone off the nightstand, then check my calls.

Yup. Several times.

Twelve days, Ellie. Twelve days and you are out of there.

I don’t have to be in to work until nine on Fridays. We have guests every day, but most of them over the weekend come in via satellite feed on the various shows. I only work half a day. Go in at nine, leave at two. I love Fridays. And since it’s only seven right now, I set my alarm and go back to sleep until eight thirty.