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I laugh a bit at this.
“Sweetheart, you do make your own decisions. You’re at the steering wheel all the time. I just nudge you to make them faster. Otherwise, I’ll miss you, you’ll miss out, and we’ll both be worse off. Were you seriously considering not spending the week with me?”
She sighs.
“No, but maybe we’re just hard wired differently. You work in a fast paced environment; Shake Place provides full meals in minutes. I work in a business where it may take me two weeks to finish a wedding cake. You take super-fast elevators to penthouses and I walk up five flights of stairs. Your world is faster than mine; it takes me a little while to catch up.”
I clasp her hands in my own.
“Ok, I’ll try to be more patient if you’ll try to remember that you are worthy of all the good fortune that comes your way.”
“Then it’s a deal,” she says, sealing our agreement with a kiss. “And my dad will love this so much. Thank you, Peter.”
I grin. Everything is in its place again, and the world is at right.
“I’m glad the book will be someone’s treasured possession rather than having it lost in a sea of other volumes.”
She giggles.
“I see what you did there with the sea reference; corny but cute, Mr. Coleman.”
I grin because we’ve returned to normal footing with the same comfortable rapport and ease between us. I like that we can work through a disagreement without any lingering resentment.
Demeter meows, reminding me to check the time. We have an hour before George comes to pick up Whitney.
“Come on,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s pick a room for you to put your stuff in when you get back.”
“Will we be sleeping separately this week?” she asks innocently.
“Very funny, and definitely not, sweetheart. But I want you to feel at home here. I don’t want you to have to keep your clothes in a suitcase, and there are plenty of closets in all the rooms.”
Whitney smiles, and I show her some options. She picks the room across from the library. She tells me she likes the white theme, but it needs more color. I think of her gypsy style bed and agree with her, making a mental note to call my decorator.
“Are all the beds in this house so comfortable?” she asks, flopping down onto the mattress.
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve haven’t slept in any bed but my own in this penthouse.”
“Well, maybe we should try them all out this week,” she says with a devious smile. “You wouldn’t want to have guests come over and get an uncomfortable night’s sleep in one of your guest rooms, would you?”
“That’s a great idea,” I growl. “In fact, let’s start with this one right now,” I say, falling on the bed beside her.
“Peter!” she squeals. “We don’t have that much time before George gets here.”
I grab her and kiss her fiercely to ignite the simmer that’s already lurking under the surface.
“George doesn’t mind waiting, trust me. I promise we’ll be quick this time,” I rasp into her ear.
Whitney doesn’t really need to be convinced. Her pants are off in seconds and we check this bed off the list as extremely comfortable and suitable for naked play time.
George texts to let me know he has arrived at 11:55. At 12:20, Whitney’s ready to head down to the lobby, a spare cat carrier in hand. She turns to me one last time, eyes guilty.
“Peter, I feel terrible for making George wait while we had sex. It’s bad enough that he’s out driving me around during this pandemic, but we were … I mean, we were …”
“Having sex?” I add helpfully.
She blushes.
“Yes! It’s such a naughty reason. I should take him some of the Danishes I made this morning.”
I laugh. Whitney is always so considerate of others. It’s another one of her amazing characteristics that I find so appealing.
“Hey, I thought those pastries were for me,” I joke with her.
“You’ll be fine, you big baby, because it appears I’ll be making you breakfast all week. You can share with George,” she insists and rushes back to the kitchen to grab a few of the baked goods.
After she leaves, I marvel at her generous ways and her thoughtfulness. Whitney’s kindness should be rewarded. After she boards the elevator, I pick up my phone to make a call. I’m going to pull some strings to surprise her when she comes back.
16
Whitney
I clutch the copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea close to my chest on the ride back to my apartment. My dad is going to love this gift. Thinking about him reminds me that I’ve been lying to my parents about the money I’ve been sending. I wish I could tell them about Peter. There are so many wonderful things about the billionaire, and I wish I could share them, but I don’t know how I would explain how I met him.
