“Elliot?”
“Of course,” he says, pulling his arm away from my touch. “My apologies, Oliver. I forgot myself, that’s all.” I feel like all the ice that had melted down has suddenly refrozen, shot back up into a jagged icicle obstacle course between us. “It’s late,” he says, his voice another icicle, this one stabbing into my heart. “I’d like my breakfast brought up to me.”
I stare at him for a long moment, wondering if he’s really this fucking petty.
I guess he is.
Well, two can play that game. “At once,my lord,” I say, and I’m satisfied to see the flicker of his eyelashes at the tone in my voice.
The hit struck home.
* * *
In the kitchens, I slam down the dishes so hard on the breakfast tray that Daniel rushes over to help. “Don’t fuck around,” he says, “Chef Henriette’s on the warpath this morning. She was all prepared for your Lord Arden to eat in the breakfast room, like he has been. Now she has to make something special—”
“He’s notmyLord Arden,” I snarl.
Daniel gives me a knowing look as he takes the teapot from me and adds the perfect amount of tea leaves. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”
“I take back every nice thing I ever said about that asshole.”
“I don’t recall yousayingmany nice things.”
“Yeah, well—whatever. He’s a selfish, arrogant, childishjerk.”
Daniel bites his lips to keep from laughing. “I mean, you held that opinionbeforeyou came back for this weekend.”
It sounds like he’s working up to anI told you sokind of statement, so I nip it in the bud. “My mistake. Anyway, thank God I’m going home today.”
“You know no one’smakingyou be here, right?” he asks with a wry smile. “It’s not the Hotel California. You can walk out whenever you like. Tell Nik you’re done, and leave early.”
Working at the Bellamy Grand has given me an excellent poker face. A lot of rich and famous people come in, and that means you get the less desirables that come with them: the paparazzi, the giggly fans, the crazy stalkers. I’ve learned to give away nothing. So when I tell Daniel, “Let’s not pretend I’m staying for anyotherreason than helping Nik out,” it sounds completely convincing.
Or it should.
Daniel snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
CHAPTER22
Elliot
I’m so ashamed of myself that I don’t quite know how to go about making things right. When Oliver comes back in with the breakfast tray, the smell of the food only turns my stomach, I’m so anxious.
“Oliver,” I begin, as he sets down the tray on the side table.
“Yes, my lord?” His voice is iron-hard.
“I…” I want to apologize, but he doesn’t seem in the mood to hear it. He waits, hands behind his back, standing perfectly straight, eyes challenging. When I say no more, he shakes his head.
“I need to help clean up after breakfast downstairs.” He whirls around and heads for the door.
The words burst out of me then. “Please—wait.” He turns back, but he’s still cold. I can hardly blame him. “I want to apologize for what I said to you earlier. It was very rude of me.”
“Yes,” he says. “It was.”
“And—and I overstepped, completely. Ofcourseyou have responsibilities away from me—from here. It’s just that I hoped so much that you might return again. I…” I suck in a big lungful of air, my head dizzy. I never wanted to tell him about what happened, but if I don’t…
If I don’t, I risk him going away from here and thinking terrible thoughts about me. I can’t bear the idea that he might think badly of me.
