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“Yeah. I have to finish a paper before class,” he says. “You headed to work?”
“Yes. Getting a late start, but I’ll still try to get out by four like we discussed.”
“Good. You coming over to watch that documentary for Constitutional Law?”
“Ah, yes. Sounds riveting.”
He laughs. “I’m sure. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Yeah? What do you have in mind?” I ask playfully.
“Well, I was thinking Mexican food, but if you have a better idea…”
“Nope. Mexican food sounds great,” I tease back, then sigh. “Oh, crap. I can’t. I have to do laundry tonight.”
“Are you serious?”
“I know. Sorry. I meant to do it yesterday but couldn’t get to it.”
Too busy following Tristan around.
“Just bring it to my house and Sandra will do it for you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not letting your housekeeper do my laundry.”
“She won’t care. She loves you.”
“I care.”
“Why are you so stubborn? One day we’re going to have our own staff. Might as well get used to it, princess.”
“We are?”
My heart races at the implication. We’ve talked about the future before, but never so blatantly.
“Of course. We’ll also have a nanny for the kids, a chef…”
A cold wave washes through me. Does he really see us married with children? And why does the thought make me nauseous instead of excited?
“So basically, we’ll pay other people to live our lives for us,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual.
“Come on. You’re being dramatic.”
“You’re describing the same life your parents live.”
“Is that so bad?”
I clench my fingers around the wheel. This entire conversation is chafing my patience.
“Just let me do my own laundry, okay?” I say finally. “I like doing laundry.”
And taking care of myself. And a lot of things Pierce doesn’t seem to get.
I can hear his sigh through the phone.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll meet you at your place so you cando laundryall night if you want.”
“Perfect,” I say as lightly as I can manage. “Oh, but still bring Mexican food.”
