She inhaled deeply, he was right, on both counts and she was clueless as to what she was actually doing right now.
No reply came back as quickly as previous ones. She reread the message for the sixth or seventh time looking for comments that might have upset or annoyed him and found none. Eventually, a reply appeared.
She shook her head but laughed at his persistence.
No delay in the reply this time.
The tone was more serious now.
She stared at the screen hoping he’d focus on how he made her feel and how she felt about him rather than the age thing.
She giggled at her own teasing.
Tasha stared down at her phone, unsure if he was serious about his son or the pool boy.
Tasha grinned down at the message and wondered if Jim would agree about a fifteen-year-old girl being pregnant with the child of a manipulative, greedy and underhanded eighteen-year-old if the fifteen-year-old in question was his daughter or would he react in the way her grandparents had? She avoided asking those questions or suggesting it might even be a possibility and composed what she hoped would be another light-hearted message.
Tasha stared down at the screen in amazement that he might miss her but at least he was acknowledging that she would be leaving. Briefly, she wondered if that meant he’d keep her captive until he decidedthey were done.
As the car travelled along the drive, which felt more like a lane, she noticed stables, tennis courts, some out buildings and lots of land. The main house was white and enormous, very imposing and to each side of it were smaller houses, cottages maybe.
“Is one of those yours?” she asked the driver.
“Yes miss. My wife, Sandra and I live to the right of the main house.” He smiled at her as he got out of the now stationary car and held the door open for her.
“Thank you,” she said, already climbing from the car. “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”
“That’s okay, miss. Michael, Mike.”
