“If I say I’m recovering from surgery, they’ll want to send flowers.”
“Let them send you flowers.”
“But I can buy my own flowers.”
“A princess can too. Yet, she employs a gardener instead.”
“I’m no princess.”
“Nah, you’re right. You’re ripe for a queen.”
I cock my hip. “Did you jab at my age?”
“Not age. Maturity.”
“One and the same.”
“Not to me.”
I frown. I’m really enjoying our verbal sparring. I’m also oversharing, which some say is a sign of loneliness. “Anyway…”I swat at the air in front of me, open my mouth to continue whatever conversation we were having before. “I forgot what we were talking about.” I stare at him pointedly. “Since you’re so youthful, perhaps you remember?”
The man laughs. “You were about to take my money and run off.”
Ha! “I wish.”
He props his elbow on the counter and runs two fingers over his lips, his gaze distant. “I can offer you twenty-five thousand pounds.”
Mentally, all my bills get paid, and my lawyer fees are cut by half. “Fifty.”
He gives me a side-eye. “Thirty-five.”
“Forty.”
He tsks. “Thirty-five. That’s the max weight I carry.”
“Hm?”
“I only have thirty-five on me. You can have it all.”
“Only?”
He nods. “In my bag.”
“And you want to give it to me?”
“Mmhm.”
“I was only joking about the money. I’m not going to take a penny from you.”
He closes his eyes and puts his hands together in a prayer again. “Please take my money.”
Is this man serious? “Listen, I’m too old to swoon at your pretty face or your good manners. I did hit you, and for that, I am sorry, but I think letting you stay here the night or even two is enough payback. We can negotiate something more while you recover, but I don’t need your money. I can take care of myself.” Barely, but it comes with no strings attached.
“I’m not offering you anything else.”
“Except that I’ll owe you money.”
“You won’t owe me anything. It’s compensation for your help.”
