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I kissed her forehead, then got up from the bed and padded over to the wide master bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Two never-worn robes hung on the back of the door. I slipped into one and returned to the bedside with the other. “Here. Take this.”
“Thank you.” She got out of bed and put it on. “Oh, these are really nice.”
“Yes, I often forget they’re here.” I sized her up again, loving how the white terry cloth framed her body. “You can keep it as a memento.”
She giggled. “Oh, really?”
“Of a...shall we say...auniquecouple of days in Palm Beach.”
“Unique is one thing to call it.”
I studied her. “And what word would you use? You’re the writer, not me.”
“Hmm.” She titled her head, her gaze fixed right back on me. “Electric.” Rebecca grinned. “Yes, that’s the right word.”
“Electric,” I repeated. “I like it.”
“Electric implies connection,” she added. “And we certainly did.”
“You’re damn right about that, Ms. Owens. You are damn right about that.”
I led Rebecca out of the bedroom and down to the veranda, telling her as I went that I didn’t want her to be late. We found her clothes and mine still outside, wet from the morning dew and shapeless reminders of all that had taken place the previous evening. After I told her my staff would arrive at seven thirty for breakfast, Rebecca gave me a quick kiss and hurried back to the pool house. I returned upstairs and jumped in the shower, the warm water washing away the last remainders of her.
I was in the kitchen around seven forty-five when she walked back in, her beat-up luggage in tow, her hair on top of her head again, an oversized cardigan sweater over a pair of charcoal leggings, matching T-shirt, and crisp white tennis shoes.
“Well,” she said with a sigh. “I guess this is it.”
“I guess it is.” I glanced at Peggy, who was furiously chopping mixed fruit for a salad. If she was paying attention, she didn’t show it, but I expected that from her. She’d been with me long enough to know when things weren’t her business. “Mauricio is outside in the driveway.”
“I saw him.”
“Good.” I hesitated, flipping through ways I could delay her departure and knowing there were none. She needed to go home, she needed to write her story, and I needed to get back to what I did best: running my company.This has to end. For now. But Friday will come soon enough...“I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca turned to Peggy. “And thank you for your hospitality. I really appreciate how welcome you made me feel during this stay.”
“You’re welcome.” Peggy smiled. “Hope we’ll have the chance to welcome you here again.”
I took one of Rebecca’s bags and we navigated the stone walkway linking the side kitchen entrance with the driveway. Mauricio leaned against his SUV, his foot propped against the retractable step of the black vehicle. When we got closer, he tipped his hat, then told Rebecca he’d checked the morning traffic and expected it to be a smooth ride to the airport.
And once we’d loaded her belongings in the back of the car, there was little more to say. The weekend had come to an end. Everything was the same, but everything had changed.
“Have a safe trip,” I told Rebecca as we stood together at the passenger door. I was again trying to draw out our final moments together. It wasn’t working.
“I will.” She got in the car but didn’t close the door. “And I...”
“And I’ll have my team get in touch with my schedule.”
“Looking forward to it.” She paused. “Thank you, Landon.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you have any issues.”
“I will.”
“And—”
She laughed. “And what?”
“And nothing.” I smacked the passenger window with my hand. “This was a great weekend.”
