That was me. I was Anthony Carter. No one called me that except for my mom and dad. To everyone else, I was just Fritz. It began as a kid when my favorite uncle started calling me it. Said he had a buddy in the army with the name and that I reminded him of his friend. It always made me feel cool, and it stuck around.
My mouth felt like it had eighteen balls of cotton in it for an array of reasons I didn’t want to think too hard about because it shouldn’t bother me. One thing was clear though: she didn’t know who the hell I was. She thought Iworkedfor the family, and holy shit…she was going to cash in on the favor withmarriage?
Hell no.
It was dumb. I knew it was. I should’ve corrected her, but marriage? To her? No, no, no. No fucking way. “I work for the family. My name is Fritz.”
“Fritz. That’s an odd name for a chauffeur.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as regret weighted my gut down.Correct her. Do it.
I was about to tell her that I wasn’t a chauffeur, that I wasn’t who she imagined to be, but then she opened her mouth and said, “I’ll need to set up an appointment with Anthony as soon as possible. Could you reserve us a spot at a restaurant in town? The town is called Champaign, so they must have one fancy location. Oh! I need to order plants. I’m assuming Preston didn’t make the trip if they lost my luggage.”
“Preston?”
“My sweet mint plant. I bundled him up in the suitcase, but I’m not expecting him to make it. Shall I write this down for you, Fritz? My parents’ in-house help are older, so I’m used to making lists.”
Jesus Christ.
She names her plants, thinks I’m a chauffeur, and wants to marry me.The day could not get any fucking weirder.
Chapter Two
The knocking wouldn’t stop.This had to be a joke. No one stood at the door and pounded their fist against the wood for a full minute.
I rinsed off and hopped out of the shower as fast as I could when her voice came through.
“Fritz. I need you. I know you’re in there.”
Nora. It had been fifteen minutes since I’d showed her the temporary one-bedroom she could use—per my mom’s brief and unhelpful email. I had to stop for gas, checked my phone to find out where to take Nora, and lucky me, she’d be livingacrossthe damn hall. Awesome.
Anthony—Leanora will be living in your building for three months. Give her the keys. Help her to the foundation tomorrow. Talk soon.
“Fritz, this is unacceptable behavior.”
Jesus. I wrapped the towel around my waist and yanked the front door open just to make the damn noise stop, and she gasped. I probably looked wild with wet hair and an annoyed expression even my mountain man beard couldn’t hide. “What?”
“Oh, uh, well, you’re busy. I see that. When you have a spare moment, I need help.” She eyed my chest for a second before leveling her gaze with me, the soft brown eyes narrowing at my silence. “Has the airport called you? Do you think my bags are here?”
“No.” I held the towel tighter at my waist. Guilt, or deception, whatever this feeling was, I wanted no part of it. “I’ll let you know when they do. You gave me your number when I let you in.”
“When is food delivered?”
“Delivered?”
She nodded and clasped her hands together, letting them rest on her stomach as she smiled. “Yes. I never ate lunch and was hoping to find a salad prepared. How do I make a special request for the chef?”
“Not sure what my—Mrs. Carter—told you, but there is no chef. No delivery. It’s called a grocery store.” I laughed at the bewilderment in her expression and sighed.
“Where I find…food.” She rubbed her full lips together hard, a line appearing between her eyebrows, and she shifted her weight.
Son of a bitch. My first real memory of going to a grocery store ended up with me getting lost for an hour, and my nanny screamed at me the whole way home. It was intimidating to be in a place with endless aisles if you had no idea what to do. The need to help outweighed my desire to watch baseball and psych myself up to go back to work the next day. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed, and we can make a trip to the store.”
“To the store. For supplies.”
“For food,” I said slowly, even though I knew she understood me. Herheiresslifestyle had obviously prevented her from having any common knowledge. In her palace, everything was done for her. It made her a harsh mixture of pathetic and aggravating. “Ten minutes. Be outside.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond before shutting the door and making the way toward my bedroom. Finding a clean pair of boxers, jeans, socks, and shoes took less than three minutes. I put on deodorant and was glad to not smell like outside and threw on an old college shirt before grabbing my keys, phone, and wallet. As I was going to meet my temporary neighbor, I smirked and sent my sister a text. She was going to freak out.
