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But eventually I’m forced to leave the bedroom so I can seek out coffee and breakfast.
I find Luke in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He’s got one of those fancy machines where you push a button and out comes a latte, or a mocha, or whatever drink you’re craving.
Apparently, it’s wasted on Luke, since he just poured himself black coffee.
I clear my throat. “Um. About earlier—”
“Please don’t,” he says. He looks pained.
I’m having a hard time meeting his eyes. Unfortunately staring at his neck, leads to staring at his chest, which leads to staring at his...
Is it just me, or are those pants tighter than the ones he normally wears?
He clears his throat, and I yank my eyes back up to his. I’m definitely blushing.
“My chef doesn’t work on the weekends, but she left pastries and ready-to-bake meals in the fridge. If there’s nothing you want, order in. And buy yourself a wedding dress.” He drops a credit card on the kitchen island between us. “I’ll be working late tonight.”
I nod. “I really am sorry. If there’s something I can do to make it up to you...”
He arcs a sarcastic brow. “You offering to strip for me Hazel? Make it even between us?”
“What?! No, I...” I flush, caught off guard by the image of taking off my clothes for Luke. It’s perverse and ridiculous, but also...kind of hot.
Luke grits his jaw and looks away. “Calm down, Hazel. That was a joke.”
My mouth feeling strangely dry.
“If you want to make it up to me, let’s skip tonight’s personal question. I think we’ve gotten personal enough for one day.”
I nod. I’m reluctant to give up today’s chance to get to know him better, but I can see the wisdom in giving us both a break from each other today.
Luke squeezes past me, travel mug in hand, briefcase slung over his shoulder.
I think of how I’d feel if he walked in on me naked, all my imperfections exposed in the harsh light of day.
On impulse I blurt, “Women definitely aren’t just after your money, you know. They’re clearly after, um, other things too.”
Luke freezes.
Then he very purposely keeps walking, without turning back.
* * *
After savoringthe most luxurious donut of my life (coffee flavored icing! With coffee flavored cream filling! And a coffee bean on top!) I spend the morning wandering around familiarizing myself with the apartment. The last thing I want is another accident like this morning. Then I settle down and spend a few hours working on Luke’s book. What started out as a topic I resented has become fascinating to me.
When questioned directly about it, Luke refuses to admit any part of his childhood was hard. But yesterday he admitted that he wouldn’t want to have a kid unless he could give them a better childhood than he had. On some level heknowsthe shit his dad put him through isn’t normal, even if he’s unwilling to admit that in public.
He’s infamous for his casual, playboy affairs. But underneath it all, he’s still being shaped by a bad break up with the woman he clearly thought he was going to marry.
He needs this autobiography, and this fake marriage, because his board members don’t trust him. But underneath his flippant remarks, he takes his work incredibly seriously, and his employees clearly respond to that.
I’m so wrapped up in my subject I work through lunch. When my phone buzzes, I barely check the screen before answering. “Hello?”
“Why the hell did I just get an invitation to yourwedding?” Sarah all but shrieks into my ear. “And it’s next weekend?To the man whose autobiography you’re writing?”
I wince. “Can you hold that thought? I want to finish this sentence.”
“NO, I CANNOT HOLD THAT THOUGHT,” Sarah says. “Tell me what’s going on. Now.”
