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She opens her mouth but closes it again, and her bottom lip tucks between her teeth. After a long moment, she says, “Same.”
My heart skips a beat as hope floods my veins. The single word is far from a profession of anything, but it’s a start. A sign, just like earlier by the fire when she let me know, in not so many words, there’s more bubbling beneath her surface.
But for all her confidence and forthrightness when it comes to work and speaking her mind, Lauryn might not feel so open with her feelings. She’s a personal assistant, after all, and I’m her boss. She depends on the wages she earns working for the firm. My father’s firm.
“I learned something about you this weekend, though,” she says, yanking my attention back to the present.
“What’s that?”
“You really are a very convincing actor. I mean, you have my family fooled, and I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you could pull it off. Next time, I need a fake boyfriend I’ll know where to go, especially if it comes with benefits, although I think I might come clean with them soon. You know, say it didn’t work out between us, and that I’m single and love it.”
My jaw clenches. “Think they’ll buy it?”
She shrugs. “I can be pretty convincing, too.”
Lauryn | Sunday morning
It’shugsallaroundfor both of us late Sunday morning as we stand in the front yard, saying goodbye as rain threatens from the ominous dark clouds that hide the sun.
“Miles,” my mom says, pulling him in for a warm hug. “Promise me you’ll come back soon and bring my daughter with you.”
“I’ll do my best,” he replies, and his careful, noncommittal response makes my heart sink even further.
I should never have let Miles volunteer. I should have said no straight away and not been tempted by his efforts to convince me spending the weekend together at the orchard was in any way a good idea. Because now, my family loves him, or at least, this version of him that is, in some ways, so different from the one I know and yet somehow exactly the same.
“Dad, let me get that,” I say, grabbing the peck of apples he’s carrying toward the SUV.
“Wouldn’t want you to go home empty-handed,” he says as I circle around the back and slide it in next to our suitcases.
“This’ll last me for weeks, and there’s a chance I might come home before then.”
“That so?”
I glance over at Miles, who’s shaking hands with one of my brothers-in-law. “I think so.”
I was thinking about it last night when I couldn’t sleep. I’m going to have to quit. Not because I slept with my boss, but because now that I’ve had a taste of what it would be like to be with Miles, I don’t think I could bear to work side-by-side with him day after day and go back to how things were. Or even a modified version of that. I want this Miles or none at all.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Bug.”
I spin to face him, confusion knotting my brow, but don’t have time to ask what he means because Miles makes his way over. “Ready to go?” he asks.
“I am.”
“Take care, son,” my dad says as he and Miles shake hands.
“You, too, and thanks for the advice.” Miles claps him on the shoulder.
Advice?
“Anytime.”
“What was that all about?” I ask as I buckle my seatbelt, and Miles starts the engine.
“What?”
“Thanking my dad for some advice.”
Miles raises a hand one last time at the crowd, waving us off as he shifts into drive and pulls out. “I might be smart, but your dad is wise.”
