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Jesus, the man has been sending flowers and food baskets. I wanted him to stop. He doesn’t need to buy me, for fuck’s sake. But Annie and the kids deserve every luxury, and then yesterday he won us over with the most thoughtful gesture.
Annie got a call from the office of the most prestigious rheumatologist in New York. Her waiting list is months-long, and Annie will see her in two short weeks.
If I didn’t get to know him in California, I’d feel he’s conniving, buying his way into my pants. Coercing my gratitude, so I do his bidding. And while I’m more than interested in doing his bidding, no coercing needed, the week we spent together made me believe he’s simply generous.
Or really good at wooing. I’m well-wooed. Our business trip primed me like a horny teenager.
After spending time with him, I know these are honest gestures. He’s trying to improve my life, and that’s not something I want to allow into my heart, or my consciousness.
I can survive his dominance, his power, his general state of annoyance, but I won’t survive his kindness if I let it get to me.
“I wish I knew what to pack.” I puff air out from my cheeks.
“He hasn’t given you a hint?”
“He asked if I have a passport, so I guess we’re flying out of the country.”
“Maybe he’s taking you skiing, or shark swimming.” Annie sits up and widens her eyes. “Or on a world tour. Rich people probably do that.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can’t go on a world tour in two days.”
“You should leave me his contact information. What if he brings you to his house and makes you his sex slave for the entire weekend?” she whispers, glancing at Aidan who is drawing in the corner.
“Annie,” I reprimand, but my core clenches at the idea.
She grins. “That hot?”
“Stop it.” I plop down beside her and we giggle together.
A bell chimes, its sound almost lost in our laughter. I jump up. “Oh God, is he early?”
“Or he sent more food.” Annie chuckles and pads to the door while I try to organize my toiletries.
The lock clicks, the door swooshes open, and Annie gasps. Aidan dashes to join her at the entrance. A low baritone rumbles through the room and I abandon the packing.
At the door, Annie is smiling like she’s just won the lottery. Aidan hides behind her leg, peeking at our visitor.
“Hello—” The greeting dies on my lips. A tall, handsome—hot AF—stranger leans against the door frame. “Who are you?”
Annie giggles like a schoolgirl. “He’s a nurse.” Her voice is a high-pitched squeal.
“My name is Ron Ballard. I work for the Prestige Nursing Agency, and I was hired to help Mrs. Annie Ward this weekend. Is she your mother?”
“Who hired you?” I look at Annie, who is shy of fanning herself, grinning at the Adonis on our doorstep.
“Oh, just a second.” Ron pulls out his phone, swipes a few times and then clicks. “We were hired by Mr. Cassinetti. Did I get the wrong address?”
“No,” Annie squeals again.
“We were hired for the entire weekend, 24/7, but there is a note to discuss the needs with the client and not intrude. If you let me in, we can discuss your mother’s needs.”
For some reason I laugh, and Ron eyes me with a wary look.
“Yes, where are our manners, please come in?” Annie pushes me away from the door.
My phone beeps.
Gio
