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“Shit.”
I took a short, careful shower and got dressed. The whole process took me nearly thirty minutes. Speed, it seemed, was no longer my thing.
Suck it up, snowflake. Those days are over with a capital O.
I made my way downstairs, ready to tell Charlotte that I’d changed my mind. That I didn’t want a walk after all. But what could I do? She was my assistant, and I couldn’t stay in this goddamn house another minute.
“I packed a light lunch,” Charlotte said, and I heard the creak of wicker. A picnic basket. “Sandwiches, fruit, cheese, wine…”
“Sounds like a very French picnic. Lucien would approve.”
“Is cabernet okay? Some people are picky. I didn’t think to check.”
“Bring whatever you want. I don’t drink.”
“Oh, you don’t? Not…anything?”
“Never have. Most of the guys atPlanet Xpartied pretty heavily, but I never did. No drugs, no booze. I always wanted my highs to be natural and never lose a day to a hangover.”
“Oh.”
“But go ahead,” I said quickly. “I’m not a dick about it. It’s just not for me.”
“Another time,” she said. “And maybe it’s better I stay sharp, since I’ll be leading you across busy streets and such.”
“No argument from me there.”
She snorted a laugh. I heard her rummage in the basket, then theclinkof glass as she set a bottle on the coffee table. “Well, the basket’s lighter, anyway.”
I held my hand out. “I’ll carry it.”
“Oh, um, are you sure?”
A flash of irritation lanced through me. Not at her but that I’d been reduced to someone who couldn’t be trusted to carry a fucking basket and walk at the same time. “Yes,” I said evenly. “I’m sure.”
“No, of course,” she said quickly, and then the sweet scent of her grew stronger as she approached. She pressed the basket handle into my hand. “Here you go.”
I took it with my right, her arm in my left, and she led me to the stairs.
“Oh! Did you bring your migraine meds?”
“No. Didn’t think about it.”
“Well, you’re a man-about-town now. Better safe than sorry.”
Man-about-town?God, what a goofball. A sweet, sexy goofball.
She went up and I took the last flight of stairs down to wait for her in the foyer, trying my damndest not to think of our kiss.
“Here you go,” she said, bounding back down the stairs. She pressed the pill bottle into my hand and her skin grazed mine.
“Ready?” Charlotte said, her voice like a sunburst of optimism.
We set out.
Not two minutes into our walk and I was already struggling. The basket in my arm made me feel less able to defend myself from unseen obstacles, and I started to see why people like me used canes.
Yeah, and advertise to everyone how helpless you are? No, thanks.
