Hildy’s sharp gaze traveled from Jefferson and Lillibet (still dripping) to the dapper figure of their host. “I didn’t realize this was a group outing.”
Beside him, Lillibet stiffened.
“We were experiencing technical difficulties,” Jefferson explained.
“Hmm.” Hildy stalked closer. “I hear they make a pill for that.” She glanced at the shower. “That is a serious shower. You could scrub down a whole rugby team in there.”
“I would be delighted to share with you some of the features, but for now I must speak to myliebchen,” the shower guru said. “Privately.”
With a quick smile of apology, Lillibet followed her husband out of the room.
As soon as the hall door closed, Hildy pounced. “Well, well, well. Jefferson Jones, ladies’ man. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Nice try, Casanova. Sell stupid somewhere else. What were you and my Lillibet up to that got you all wet and bothered? Go on.” She clapped her hands at him. “Spill.”
From the shower, there was a gurgling rush of liquid, as if it were being poured from a massive pitcher.
Hildy scowled at him. “What the hell is going on in there?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
One of them, anyway.
Chapter 9
lovelillibetHow do you keep things fresh in a long-term relationship? Mr. L and I have a grab bag of tricks, from travel to role-play. The real secret? Stop making assumptions. Instead of crushing your partner under the weight of expectation, allow them the freedom to surprise you. Spontaneity is a great way to manifest more fully in the moment.
Love, Lillibet
Image: A page torn from a calendar, folded into a paper airplane.
#freeyourself #beherenow #thepresentisapresent
This is it,thought Libby, as Mr. L led her down the hall.The big reveal.Whatever ulterior motive he’d been hiding was about to be unveiled.
Instead of mentally preparing herself for this critical development, her thoughts veered back to Jefferson pressing her against the shower wall, sacrificing himself to protect her. Did he have bruises? Would she get to see them?
Focus.
She should be worrying about Hildy. Thank goodness her future boss hadn’t walked in on them a few minutes sooner, while Jefferson was so close Libby could have drowned in his eyes. They were almost the color of a swimming pool, aqua shading into green— She pinched the skin between her thumb and index finger.
That was a thought for later, when Libby was alone. Assuming she survived what Mr. L had in store for her. After experiencing that shower, she was rethinking her first impression of their host. Maybe he was more of a mad genius than a single-minded corporate bigwig.
Hopefully not the kind with a freezer full of corpses.
They turned a corner and continued to the end of the hall before Mr. L opened another door, gesturing for Libby to precede him.
“My office. One of them,” he corrected himself, laughing as he indicated the seating area opposite the desk. “Please.”
The decorating theme seemed to be Antique Navigation. There were globes and brass instruments she assumed related to sailing (in days of yore), and sprawling maps with fancy calligraphy mounted on the wall. They looked authentically old but could have been reproductions. Or a record of his global plumbing empire.
Mr. L watched Libby approach a leather armchair. Her supposedly sprained hindquarters were inches from the seat when he threw up his hands like a traffic cop. “Stop!”
She froze, bent in half. It brought her almost to his eye level.
“You’re dripping,” he chided, pointing at her dress.
