“It’s not five fulltime jobs. The social media thing is more of a hobby for me and the thrift store only requires my time when my brother refurbishes new pieces, or something sells in the store, and we need to take it off the website.”
I rub at my jaw. “So, you repurpose furniture?”
She nods. “Yeah. Restoration and refurbishing.”
Interesting.
“What do you do to relax?”
She laughs. “What doyoudo to relax? You’re more uptight than I am.”
Touche.
“But why so many jobs?”
She winces slightly but quickly recovers and I immediately regret prying.
She’d said she didn’t want to divulge any personal details, but I thought we were past that now. Guess I was wrong to think that something had shifted between us since she cut my hand open. Of course, she has a reason for working so much. Maybe she has a lot of debt or is taking care of aging parents. Maybe she’s paying off a divorce, or student loans.
“It’s a long story,” she says softly.
I want to tell her that we have time but she’s pulling in front of my hotel’s curb now and I know that my doorman will yell at her in ten seconds if she doesn’t move out of the fire lane.
“Well, thanks again for driving me to the hospital.”
“Yep.”
She doesn’t even look at me.
“And uh…” Fuck this is difficult. Can’t say I’ve ever apologized for suing someone before. Not sure if Rhiannon deserves the apology either, but something tells me that she was downplaying the way the whole Madison and Matt thing impacted her and her family. “I’m sorry if the whole suit stressed you out.”
Her brows raise. “So, you’re not sorry for suing me, just sorry if it stressed me out?”
I shrug. “I was doing my job. I didn’t know it was you.”
“If you had, would you still have done it?”
Her hazel eyes almost look green in this lighting. The late evening sun is catching them through her cracked window just right making them and the stain on her uniform glow.
I don’t want to lie to her, so I don’t. Even if it makes me sound cold and calculated.
“Yes. Only because my sister asked me to. Not because I thought there was an actual case.”
I assume saying that will be the thing that pushes her over the edge. The moment where she tells me to fuck off and realizes my moral compass isn’t always straight, but instead her hazel eyes study mine and then she gives a small nod with a tiny smile.
“I get that. I’d do the same thing for my siblings. Loyalty to family is important.”
Fuck me this doesn’t help.
We stay like that, locked in each other’s gaze, suspended in a silence that feels like it might tip into me asking her up to my penthouse for a drink if I breathe too hard.
I open my mouth, ready to finally say what’s been sitting heavy on my tongue for weeks.
Something like,hey, what do you think about going on an actual date that doesn’t involve a trip to the hospital so that we can confirm that we’ll drive each other insane if we ever tried to have a relationship?
Ortell me the worst thing about yourself. The thing that’ll make me see you differently.
Can I pencil you in for next month when I still won’t have time and you’ll still be working yourself into the ground?
