“Yeah. I mean, he’s a typical Wall Street guy.”
“He doesn’t work on Wall Street. He’s a venture capitalist.”
“If you’re thinking that’s an upgrade, it’s not. But the guy has money, and he wasn’t a total asshole to my surprise.” He sits in the recliner again. “What’s the plan to get him to reverse course on this building buyout?”
“I’m hoping he’ll do it out of the kindness of his heart.”
My brother chuckles. “Okay. Good luck with that, Delaney.” He nods toward the back hall. “We’ll keep your bedroom the same, for now. It will make a great gym, though, so keep me posted.”
I roll my eyes as I open the door. “Bye, jerk face.”
“Bye, ya little rotten egg.”
Grinning, I wait until I’m in the hall and the door is closed to cut up. Can’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me laugh. After stopping into the restaurant to confirm I wasn’t put on the schedule this week, I head a block over to catch the train back to Tribeca.
I stop in a corner grocer and pull a cart around the store behind me. I want to make dinner, but what would Warner like to eat? He can buy any dish and afford the city’s nicest and most expensive restaurants. He even ate hot dogs with me.
Why does he have to be so annoyingly perfect?
I can’t outcook famous chefs. So I shouldn’t try. I’ll prepare something he can’t get anywhere else. I carry the bag of groceries in one hand and my duffel in the other and walk to his apartment. I can’t say I’m mad about staying in this neighborhood. The sidewalks are less crowded and roomier. Those and the streets are definitely cleaner. I bet they pay a private company to sweep their streets on a regular basis.
And I’m getting used to seeing Baker with his big smile welcoming me home to Warner’s building. “How are you today?” I ask, sweeping myself inside the lobby when he holds the door open for me.
“Couldn’t be dandier.” The door closes as he walks behind me. “How about you, Mrs. Landers?”
“Happy as a clam, but what’s not to be happy about these days?”
“Ah.” He hurries around me. “Let me get the elevator for you since you have your hands full.” He punches the button. “Newlywed bliss is a beautiful thing. Hold on to it.”
Stopping just shy of where he’s standing, I laugh. “Like an anaconda, I’m holding on as tight as I can, squeezing the life right out of it.”
His face contorts into uncertainty. “I’m not quite sure—Nope, you know what. None of my business. Have a great day.”
With great timing, the elevator opens for me. “You, too.”
As soon as I’m in the apartment, I unload the groceries I bought and then dig through the duffel to pull out a few chotskies I brought over to homey up the place, inserting a bit of me into his world. I laugh as I set the little Eiffel Tower dead center on the console under the TV because I inserted myself right into his life as well.
I set a mug I made in elementary school on the counter and drop some mismatched pens I found in my bedroom inside. Going down the hall, I slip into his office and sit at his desk. I’ve felt bad a few times about the measures I took to convince him we are married, but emailing back and forth with his assistant crossed a line. There’s nothing but shame associated with the act. It got me a few days alone with Warner, but at what cost?
Jocelyn seems really nice, too, making me feel doubly bad.
Dropping the duffel bag into the closet to deal with another time, I pull my phone out of my back pocket to check the time. Three thirty. Where’d the day go?
I should be timing everything to be ready when he walks in. The problem is, I don’t know when he leaves the office. Is it a standard time? A routine built into the makeup of his being. I wouldn’t be surprised. The sun could determine the time of day off Warner’s precision and perfection he demands.
Though . . .I smile thinking about him. He’s stepped out of his comfort zone for me and played along when he was obviously suspicious. So credit goes to him for being a willing participant in this farce of a fairy tale this long. I really didn’t expect to be here on a Monday, preparing for my man to come home.But here I am.
My brother’s words return to replay in my head. “You fuck over the wrong guy, and it will come back on us tenfold.”I never intended to fuck anyone over, much less Warner. I did not end up here in malice. I ended up here under duress, worried for his life, and then stuck in this game with him. His other warning comes roaring back,“Don’t do anything stupid, sis.”
Too late for that. All I can do is make the most of a bad situation.
I didn’t tell Lorenzo everything, not how much Warner shows his affection for me, or how he’d buy me the world if I asked, as long as it’s under five million bucks. And I didn’t share that I’ve fallen for someone who is my opposite in almost every way, from standing in society to our careers, my little messes to his orderly, my ice cream to his gelato. Opposites attract, but they fall hard and fast as well. That’s Warner and me.
There’s no denying our chemistry. There’s only a mountain of untruths to overcome. I have my hiking gear ready whenever he says the word.
Since I know the workaholic isn’t coming home before five, I don’t have to rush, and I have time for a bath. I grab a giant candle from the coffee table. The ceramic bowl is a mix of blues, golds, and brown. The design is unique and fits the space, but it really needs to be used to be fully appreciated. I take it into the bathroom with me and light it before stripping my clothes off and twisting my hair up.
I made sure to pour myself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc before dipping into the sudsy hot water and submerging myself up to my shoulders in bubbles mounded high like whipped cream on a sundae. The water feels good, and my muscles release the tension from carrying those bags across New York. But as I sink in a little deeper, I miss Warner.
