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He grins and glances at the night sky. His eyes meet mine, and I see a twinkle of fun in them. This is the Franklin I like most.
“When I first saw you, I was mesmerized watching you set the cushions and tableware. You had an eye for detail and fussed about every little thing to make it perfect. You kept bending over in those tiny, ripped shorts, and my dick liked it.. a lot. There’s no harm in observing, and the more I looked, the more I liked. You were creating a happy ending for someone else, and it sparked my interest.”
It's my turn to look away. I always wanted to know, but I’m not sure if I want the truth. “Why did Daphne hate the setup?” I shrug. “It’s not as though I’ve done engagement setups since, but I want to know if I did something wrong?”
“Youdid nothing wrong.” He kisses my forehead. “She expected more, that’s all.”
“More? How?” It’s none of my business, but Hugh and I did fan over her work. She was an icon we wanted to meet.
Franklin blankly stares out to the ocean as though he is reminiscing about the past. “A trip to Dubai. An arranged scene by an event manager with all our friends present for thesurpriseproposal.”
“An arranged surprise? Weird.”
“I didn’t do much with Daphne that wasn’t premeditated,” he says in a somber voice. “With you, it’s easy.”
I frown at him.
“You’re not easy. When I’m with you, I don’t have to think about what I’m saying. It comes naturally. It’s like you get me, even though we barely know each other. I like being with you. It’s…” he pauses for a moment, “… calming.”
I snort out my nose. “The night we had was anything but calm.”
He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, so I’m huddled into his hard chest. “Fucking is never calm, Penny.”
His eyes pull me in. I could easily get lost in him, but he doesn’t want a relationship. I need to make light of the moment before I do something stupid and ask him to date me. “Let’s go for a skinny dip.”
Franklin’s eyes round. “Now?”
I nod.
He laughs with a hint of nervousness. “Perhaps I’ll build up to it.”
“Deal.” I hold out my hand to shake his, when his cell vibrates in his pocket loud enough for me to notice.
He shakes my hand. “Deal.” Then he retrieves his cell from his pocket, and his signature frown is back. “Sorry. I need to take this. Why don’t you look around the rest of the house?”
As I move away from the railing, he says, “Bill, this better be good.”
Silence.
I begin to take photographs of his furniture and the current layout with ideas coming to me fast.
“Fuck. You’re killing me. What rate?”
To distract myself I make notes on my cell.
“Jesus. A four-percent drop?”
I jump when he raises his voice.
“Short sell. Do it now. Give me a moment to get into my office.” Franklin strides past as though I’m a ghost and heads to a door off the living room—an office. I catch a glimpse of a large mahogany desk and three computer screens before the door closes.
Time to get back to business.
I open all the drawers in search of a tape measure. What am I thinking? Franklin doesn’t need to measure anything. He’s not a handyman. The thought of him wearing a tool belt—shirtless—I’ll keep to myself.
Counting my steps as though each is a yard length, I make notes on my cell. I have great ideas to bring this kitchen to life, and the focus is on the main player—the ocean.
Next, I move to the living room. The open fireplace needs a revamp, and all walls need a coat of paint. The terracotta floor tiles… I tap my fingers on my chin.Gone. I don’t like waste, but I could use them outside for crazy paving.
