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Megan hums, amused. “Yeah. Guess you lucked out with that,” she says lightly. “Can play hooky without worrying about fire from on high and all. Seriously, it’s good for you. I might even follow suit and get some take-backsies around my birthday.”
I laugh awkwardly as I realize that she’s not alluding to anything between Daniel and me but rather reporting the office goings-on the way I asked. And saying she’s ‘busted’ me, but it’s all good.
“Tell you what, I’ll forget we had this conversation and you can call in sick. I won’t question a thing, ’kay?” Megan laughs, agreeing. “I’m going to get some breakfast. Call me if you or Stephanie need anything.”
“Will do. But we’re fine, Boss. I promise.” Megan sounds amused at my worry-wart tendencies.
“Okay, then . . . well, I guess I’ll talk to you soon. Take care, Megan.”
“Bye, Tiffany. See you tomorrow.”
I hang up and look around. If Daniel isn’t at the office and he’s not in bed with me, where is he? I’m about to get out of bed to check when I hear the front door open and then close softly. A grin grows on my face, and I don’t think I could stop it even if I had to.
He’s here.
He helped Ace last night, took care of me, and then called in to spend the day with me. Surely, that means I’m special to him? The thought makes me feel inordinately giddy. I want to bound out of bed and greet him by jumping him, but I wait, curious to see how he’ll greet me.
The bedroom door opens a sliver, and Daniel peeks through, still trying to be ninja stealthy. But when he sees me sitting up, my phone in my lap, he swings the door open the rest of the way and smiles. “Good morning, gorgeous. Just wake up?”
In a whoosh of horror, I remember that I fell into bed with wet hair. It’s highly likely that it dried into a wild mess of tangled frizz and cowlicks. I tug at my hair, desperately trying to smooth it into some semblance of tameness, but I give up and twist it into a lazy rope and drop it along my back, hoping it stays there until I can pin it up into a half-respectable bun.
“Is it still morning?” I ask, glancing at the window. “I’m usually not a late sleeper.”
“Just barely,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I brought you some coffee and a scone from the shop on the corner. I remember Elle saying she liked that place.”
“Ooh, gimme!” I squeal, and he hands over a warm cup and a small paper bag. I set the bag down and go right for the good stuff—the coffee. Of course I know the shop. Elle and I used to haunt it all the time.
I take a sip, letting the warmth and caffeine work their magic as I look at Daniel over the lid. “You’re dressed.”
“I am.”
I’m stating the obvious, because he didn’t get coffee in the nude, but it’s a question all the same because he’s not wearing the slacks and dress shirt he dropped in my bathroom floor last night. Nor is he wearing the sweats and T-shirt of his I kept like a greedy bitch after that first night.
He’s wearing a pair of nice jeans and a V-neck T-shirt that look dynamite on him, and he gives me a little pose. “I had Ricky drop off some clothes. Since he supports us, I figured it was safe.”
“You did?” I ask, touched on multiple levels. “Sounds like you have a plan for today. Are we going to the beach again?”
“I do, but unfortunately, no,” Daniel admits. “The plan is more professional than personal.”
Confused, I ask, “What?”
* * *
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, smoothing my skirt over my hips. It’s one of my favorites, red with tiered ruffles and a bow. Since it’s a bit flirtier and fun, I’ve paired it with a crisp white button-up and sky-high black heels to add a touch of classic style. But no matter what I have on, I’m a little nervous about dinner.
With Daniel.
A business dinner . . . and I’m going as his . . . what do we call us?
His girlfriend?
I’m just fucking confused.
Daniel, though, seems steady and nods. “I am. Are you?”
Am I?
This is a major step, not only for Daniel but for me. We’ve spent the whole afternoon plotting and researching while we discussed options and decided on this plan, with me right at his side offering input and him listening considerately.
It’s bold and ruthless, just like Daniel.
But this requires more truth than either of us had considered a mere twelve hours ago. And that has my heart in my throat, but Daniel is rock solid and steady, so when I look into his eyes, I’m at least a little reassured. “Let’s do this.”
