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It didn’t take long for Drake to return, laden down with our luggage—mostly his. He always packed way more than I did.
He dropped our bags near the door and looked around, grimacing as he went.
“I’ll sleep in the tub,” I offered, knowing he’d noticed the no-couch situation.
He gave me an inkling of a smile. “That won’t be necessary.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant but didn’t feel like asking either. I didn’t know if my heart could handle the thought of us sharing a bed, or him telling me he’d just see if there was a rollaway bed available.
“Okay.” I went back to staring at the dancing flames.
“George said he’d have someone bring up a tray of food. He wouldn’t say what they’re serving. He’s an odd guy.”
“I like him.”
“You like everyone.”
“That’s not true—I’m just good at hiding my disdain for people, unlike you.”
“That’s what makes you a better person than me.”
I turned and caught his thoughtful stare. He was dripping now, from the melting snow in his hair and on his clothes.
“You should change out of those wet clothes.”
“You’re always watching out for me,” he said tenderly.
“It’s my job.” I smiled.
“Yes, your job,” he sighed, before running a hand through his damp hair. “I think I’ll shower and change.”
“Good idea.” I turned from him, desperately trying not to think about how lucky that shower was going to be. I rested my head on my knees as all of Izzy’s lectures ran through my head. It was Drake’s words, though, that assaulted me the most. That was good. Exactly what I needed to ensure I didn’t make another poor decision.
I was grateful when a knock interrupted the hot shame I was feeling for semi-throwing myself at my boss earlier. I hopped up and dashed to the door, hoping it was the food. Drake was a different person if he was hungry. I normally kept snacks for him in my bag, but we’d left so quickly I hadn’t had time to restock his favorite protein bars and dried cherries.
I opened the door to find George holding up a picnic basket. Well, he was trying. He was shaking from the effort. I retrieved the heavy item before George tipped over.
“What’s this?” I held up the basket.
George gave me that mischievous smile of his. “It’s the Daisy Special. It works every time.”
I tilted my head. “The Daisy Special?”
“Nothing like grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup to get the motors revving, if you know what I mean.”
Oh, I knew what he meant, and he was oh so wrong. Drake’s and my relationship was permanently stalled. I giggled anyway and played along with the cute old man who probably had dementia. “I had no idea.”
“Daisy made this very dinner for me on our first date, and we ate it every year on our anniversary.” His eyes misted.
“That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.”
“Mark my words, you’ll have your own sweet memories after tonight.”
“Um . . . okay.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wrong. And I felt ridiculous for almost believing him.
“Good night.” He winked.
I shut the door and shook my head. The place was getting to me. I set the basket on one of the chairs and decided to freshen up and get into my pajamas. Drake was notorious for taking long showers and preening in front of the mirror. I wouldn’t say he was in love with himself, but he was definitely infatuated. I could hardly blame him. He was beautiful.
There was a vanity with a sink outside the bathroom. I was feeling a bit gamy, so I brushed my teeth before taking off my beanie to see if I could do something cute-ish with my long blonde locks. Not like I was trying to impress Drake. I’d gotten his message loud and clear—I was strictly his employee. Besides, the man had already seen me at my worst. Last year I’d had an exorcist event after I got food poisoning. There was nothing more mortifying than having Drake Foster hold your hair back while you vomited everything you’d eaten in the last five years into his toilet. I looked like death for two days after that. I had to say, Drake played nurse very well. I did, however, want to at least look human tonight.
I washed my face, put on some moisturizer, then put my hair up in its signature messy bun.
I heard the shower turn off. It had me doing one more check in the mirror. Okay, so maybe I wanted to look decent for Drake. But all I saw in the mirror was his doe-eyed, cute and perky assistant. I swear I stopped aging at twenty, making me look perpetually young. Like too young to take seriously.
I sighed and hurried to put on my pajamas. Once I had solidified my “cute and perky” status with my ridiculous pjs, I laid the checkered blanket George had included in the basket in front of the fireplace and set out the “Daisy Special.” That George was either delusional or a hopeless romantic. Or maybe he did this for every guest and just played the magical angle to get better Google reviews. Regardless, George was a saint. He’d included some chocolate chip cookies the size of my head and bottles of cold milk. He was getting the best online review ever.
