Cole shook his head, staring at her fondly before moving to pour himself a glass of water at the counter. “You don’t have to be peer pressured, Lena.”
“I’m not peer pressuring her,” Tess argued. “I’m supporting her in desensitization therapy.” Tess’s gaze flitted back in my direction. “All jokes aside, if you want to toss it on the burn pile out back and light it up instead, I’ll also support that.”
“I know you would,” I said, pushing the envelope in her direction. “Why don’t you open it and tell me how prepared I need to be.”
Tess tried to contain her glee as she tore open the package, taking a look at what was inside. “It’s…” Her eyebrows twitched, then her expression shifted into confusion. “It’s a key.” She pulled it out of the package, handing it to me.
The metal key was cold against my palm. It was on a plain gold key ring. What the hell was this for?
“Oh, wait!” Tess said. “There’s also a note.” As she pulled it out, a plane ticket fell onto the table.
“A ticket to New Orleans?” I said, staring at it.
“First class,” Tess said, whistling as she unfolded the letter. “I can’t read this. How is his writing worse than a doctor’s?”
“Let me see,” I said, curiosity getting the better of me. I took the note from Tess, scanning Weston’s handwriting. “Dear Lena,” I read. “I hope this package finds you well.”
Tess snorted. “You think he knows how many times I’ve had to stop you from eating raw cookie dough? You’re not well.”
I hushed her. “Inside you’ll find a first-class ticket to New Orleans—I know you’ve always wanted to visit. As well as the keys to the executive suite Kincaid Energy keeps downtown.”
Tess’s eyebrows hit her hairline. She leaned across the table. “Executive suite! Is that gonna be anything like the place in Paris?” I shot her a look. “Okay,okay, keep reading.”
“The suite is yours for the next few months,” I read, “with all the amenities included. Housekeeping will be by to clean and handle your laundry. Groceries can be ordered via the front desk. There’s a gym, a sauna, and a pool. Basically everything you need to relax. And no, this isn’t part of your paid leave. Consider it a vacation to make up for all the ones that I never let you take before.”
I swallowed hard.
Tess leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against her lips. “Is that all it says?”
I shook my head. “And to start you off on the right foot, you’ll find a gift certificate for five hundred beignets from Café Du Monde. I’ve been assured that their beignets are legendary.”
“Five hundred?” Tess and Cole cried at the same time. Tess held her hand out for the gift certificate. I passed it over.
“We talking about those little powdered donuts?” Cole asked.
Tess nodded, her eyebrows arched so high it looked like she’d had a facelift. “Okay, the man is really trying to get back in your good books. He knows a beignet is the way to your heart.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, remembering that time he took me into the bakery on high street, buying me a powdered donut to make up for the fact they didn’t have beignets. I could appreciate that he’d been paying attention, and yet, all I could wonder waswhyhe was doing this. We’d ended things between us. I’d accepted his year of paid leave and his offer—his insistence—on paying for grad school if I got in. I didn’t want vacations and beignets from him.
I didn’t want to feel like I owed him any more than I already did.
Tears welled in my eyes.Goddamnit, Weston!
“Oh no,” Tess said, laying the gift certificate on the table as I swiped at my cheeks. A few tears had escaped, but they were tears of frustration. Tears of anger. “Don’t cry!” she continued, standing and pulling me close as she squeezed the air out of my lungs. “He’s not worth it.”
“Five hundred beignets,” I said against her shirt. “That’s the number he thinks fixes things.” That’s what I was worth to him. I pulled away, blinking back tears, swallowing down the anger that pulsed through me in waves. “After everything we went through, he’s like ‘here, have some puffy balls of deep-fried dough since you like them so much.’ It’s…bah!” I rubbed my eyes. “Have I always wanted to go to New Orleans? Yes! Do I want to do it on his dime? No freaking way!”
Tess fist pumped the air. “That’s right. You’re strong and independent and you can buy your own plane tickets!”
“And my own beignets!”
“Hell yes, you can!” Tess said.
“This feels like a good time for me to go back to work,” Cole said, giving us both a wave as he set off for the barn.
I whipped out my phone, looking for Nancy’s number.
“What are you doing?”
