“But he definitely needs fixing.” Emma insisted, then turned to me. "Riv, when did you last smile?"
“This morning.”
“Liar,” Emma pointed, glaring at me.
"Let me show you to your room," I said to Mireya, cutting off Emma's interrogation. "You should settle in and rest."
“But what about the cookies?” Emma protested.
“They’re beyond saving. I’ll order dinner.”
Emma pouted but didn’t argue further.
I picked up Mireya's bag and headed down the hallway, her footsteps following behind me at a careful distance.
“That’s Emma’s room,” I said, pointing as we passed. “My office is at the end.” I gestured again, then stopped at the end of the hallway. “This room is yours.”
I opened the door to the guest suite.
The room was large, with neutral colors, like a clean hotel room. A king-sized bed sat in the center with white sheets. Light wood furniture filled the space, and an en-suite bathroom was visible through a partially open door.
“Wi-Fi password is on the nightstand,” I said. "The kitchen is always accessible. If you need anything, ask me or Emma."
Mireya stepped inside slowly and turned in a full circle like she needed to see everything before believing it was real.
“This room is bigger than my old apartment,” she said quietly, almost to herself.
There was no exaggeration. Just quiet disbelief.
“Get used to it.”
She turned to face me then, her amber-flecked brown eyes meeting mine, full of gratitude that made me uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I know I keep saying it, but I truly mean it.”
"You're providing nursing care for Emma," I interrupted before her gratitude turned into something awkward. “This is part of our agreement.”
She nodded, accepting the boundary without argument. But her smile remained.
“Still,” she said gently. “Thank you.”
Like she knew exactly what this arrangement cost her–and was choosing it anyway.
“Stop thanking me. You’re here to work. That’s all this is.”
“Right.” Her voice dropped. "Just work."
I set her bag down on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. "Dinner will be at seven. Emma will come find you when it's ready."
I left before she could respond and walked back into the living room, where Emma waited with her arms crossed and trouble written across her face.
“You didn’t tell me she was beautiful,” Emma said accusingly.
I pulled out my phone and began looking through dinner options. "I told you she's a qualified RNFA."
"Yes, but you conveniently left out important details." Emma followed me toward the kitchen. "You forgot to mention she's tall and gorgeous and looks like she could model." She narrowed her eyes. "Are all nurses like that? Because if they are, why are you still single?"
"I'm single by choice."
