“I see the way he looks at you,” I say, offering her the box.
“At one time, I entertained thoughts of him and me, but it could never be.” She lifts a cupcake out. “What’s this?” she asks, extracting a folded sheet of paper on the bottom of the box.
I set my cupcake down, unfolding the paper and reading the email Ben forwarded to the local bakery with tears in my eyes. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he did this.”
She leans over my shoulder reading it. “Damn, Benny has it bad.” She squeezes my shoulder. “It must be love if he’s gone to this much trouble to ensure you got your favorite cupcakes.”
“I can’t believe he emailed the old bakery in Glencoe and got the exact recipe for the cupcakes I like. To even remember my favorite cupcakes is enough to have me swooning.” I take a quick selfie with the flowers and the cupcakes and send it to Ben with a loving note.
He is so getting laid when he comes home Friday.
She swipes a stray tear from my eye, and I hate the sad wistful shroud that veils her beautiful face. “You are so lucky, Sierra. Both of you are. Love is so precious, especially in this world. Protect it with everything you’ve got.”
“Don’t worry. I plan to.”
* * *
Natalia left for the city today, and I already miss her. I’m missing Ben so much too. We spent every spare minute together last weekend, and when he left Sunday night, it was as if I was missing a limb. Thoughts of his hands all over my body—and the hours upon hours of catching up we spent in the bedroom—have me flushing all over. Which is most inappropriate, given I’m cycling with Rowan around the grounds of the house.
There is an icy chill in the air, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was snowing by my birthday.
“Who’s that?” Rowan shouts as he cycles alongside me.
I frown, looking around and not seeing anyone. “Who do you mean?”
“I saw a girl in that window.” His bicycle wobbles as he points at a room on our left.
I reach out to steady his handlebars before he takes a tumble. “Are you sure?”
He vigorously nods his head. “She was staring at me.”
Huh. “Stop here for a sec,” I say, helping him down from his bike.
We walk over to the window, pressing our noses to the glass, peering inside. This is the west wing of the house. The side getting renovated. Though I don’t see any evidence of that as I examine the stunning living room inside. It’s a warm inviting room with a patterned rug, soft comfortable couches, colorful cushions, artwork on the walls, and a modern cream stone fireplace with a large shiny mirror hanging over it. The space is empty of life though, so if there was a girl there, she’s long gone.
“It was probably one of the staff,” I tell Rowan. “Come on. I’ll race you to the tree house.”
That night, I review the tutor files Natalia left for me, shooting Ben an email when I have it shortlisted to three applicants. He replies almost immediately, confirming he will arrange interviews for this Saturday. He is as anxious as I am that Rowan doesn’t miss out on classes for too long. After I shut my laptop down, I head to my studio to work on my new painting before retreating to bed alone. As I snuggle under the covers, stretching my hand across the bed to the cold empty space Ben usually occupies, I comfort myself with the knowledge he will be home tomorrow.
* * *
“Be careful,” I shout after Rowan as he climbs the ladder to the tree house the following day. The tree house is, hands down, his favorite part of the playground.
“Don’t worry,” Alesso says. “I’ll stay with him.” I smile as I watch him climb up behind Rowan into the large enclosed wooden structure. Rowan adores Alesso, and I’m tempted to suggest Frank and Alesso swap assignments. Don’t get me wrong, Frank is a nice guy, just a little more reserved and harder to get to know than Alessandro. It’s a moot point at the moment, anyway, considering Frank left for the city early yesterday. There was an emergency, and Ben needed him. I told him he should keep Frank in New York. The guys are just hanging around the house, bored out of their skulls most of the time. With the number of bodyguards on the grounds, having both Alesso and Frank watching us is excessive.
I decided to bring my easel and canvas outside today to paint. It’s not quite as cold as recent days, and this will probably be my last chance to paint outdoors for a while, if the weather forecasts are to be believed.
I’m lost in my painting, immersed in my own colorful world, so I don’t hear the footsteps approaching until the last few seconds.
My eyes pop wide as a gorgeous girl with long dark-blonde hair walks up to me. I put my paintbrush down, grabbing a wipe to scrub the dried paint off my hands. “Hello,” I say, regarding her warily as she comes to a stop beside me.
She stares at my painting. “Interesting,” she drawls, sounding like it’s anything but.
She sounds American, but there is a hint of an accent to her voice, and my guard goes up. I glance over at the tree house, wondering if I should call out for Alesso. He and Rowan must be lying on the bean bags, playing a game, as I don’t even see the tops of their heads.
“Do you work for Ben?” I ask, even as I note she’s not wearing the uniform the rest of the staff wear.
She barks out a derisory laugh. “Hardly.”
