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I pat my tummy. “Now, I need a nap.”
“Told you once you start eating, you can’t stop.”
“You’re the perfect guest because you come with amazing food.”
After I removed my makeup, and changed into shorts and a t-shirt, we sat down for breakfast.
He chuckles. “Does it mean I’m welcome anytime?”
“Damn right if you show up every time with Andrews NYC Diner’s two breakfast samplers, and Nutella French toast and Belgian waffles with butter and syrup for dessert. Speaking of a sugar high, do you want yours now with a second cup of coffee?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay,” I nod. “I can’t believe I’ve lived in New York my whole life and I’ve never set foot inside Andrews NYC Diner.”
“It used to be Andrews Coffee Shop. It’s a family staple, owned and operated by the same family since the 60s.”
“Wow.”
“My grandparents used to take…” He hesitates and grimaces. “It was my grandpa’s favorite breakfast place.” Why do I have a feeling that’s not what he was going to say? “I haven’t been in years, but for whatever reason, when I landed at JFK, I was in a mood for their food. After dropping my luggage at the hotel, the chauffeur made a detour.”
“You’re a good man.”
“After your contract with Alistair, will you come work for me so I can help you?”
Record scratch.
I sigh. “I’m grateful the contract with Alistair is temporary, I don’t have to travel, and the money he’ll pay me will go a long way—”
“It’s okay to accept his money, but it’s not okay to accept mine?” A hint of disapproval etches into the corners of his beautiful mouth.
I place a hand over his. “We weren’t talking, remember?” He growls. “My former client made me an offer I wasn’t in a position to refuse. I don’t want you to hand me the money. It would make me feel like I’m still an escort.”
His blue eyes hold mine. “I’m not going to ask. I don’t want another fight.”
I rub my hands over my face. “Every time I think of my demise, it crushes my heart.”
He places his hands on top of mine as if we were kids playing the hand stacking game.
True to his promise he doesn’t ask, but his eyes are filled with questions.
Other than Cassie, no one else knows about my secret, and she doesn’t even know the full story.
I relent. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“Thank the fuck God! If I had to hold my tongue one more minute, I was going to burst.”
“Here you go,” I say, placing a cup of hot coffee in front of Bryce.
“Thanks.”
I sit next to him on the navy-blue velvet couch, cradling the cup in my hands. “If I’m going to spill my guts, I need something stronger than coffee.”
“I get it.”
I take a sip of my hot rum coffee.
And another.
