*
“And these are—” I picked up one of the pink things on myleather couch.
“Scatter cushions. Feminine touch,” Andrea said. “I told you I’d bring some.”
“I don’t recall seeing anything like this at your place.”
“Bought them for you. Especially.” She tipped her head to one side.
Somehow, I was confident she hadn’t been thinking of ways to enhance my decor when she chose them.
“And the … slogans?”
“You mean the inspirational life imperatives?” Andrea smiled sweetly.
“Is that what they are?”
“Yes. They’re uplifting.”
“IsChoose Joyuplifting to you?” I asked.
“Of course it is. Who wouldn’t be uplifted by that?”
“And this one?” I read aloud from the largest of the cushions. “Together is our favorite place to be, laughing, loving, and makingmemories.”
“Our relationship manifesto.”
“On a pink-and-white polyester cushion?”
“Just be grateful theLive, Laugh, Loveloo seat cover was too expensive,” muttered Eliza.
“Okay, well, carry on.” Jesus. She was following the letter of the contract, but she seemed to relish making me cringe as she did so.
I walked through the apartment, taking in theAndrea-esquetouches everywhere. A slightly ragged plant on the hall table. A candle shaped like a pineapple, and another one, already half melted, that looked like… fuck, no idea. I picked it up and turned it over. A cowboy boot? I set it back where I’d found it.
There was something oddly comforting about seeing herweird shit all over the place. What was up with that? She was clearly doing it to piss me off, but it just seemed… endearing.
Probably not what she intended.
She’d been colder since the weekend. Smiling at me less, and when she did, it didn’t look real. Different from dinner, from shopping. Something had changed.
Was it the Snuggiething?
I’d walked back into the bedroom after the drinks had arrived, grinning like an idiot, convinced we’d almost had a moment, but she’d already slipped back behind that wall of ice like nothing had happened.
The shirt. That was probably when things had shifted. She’d frozen when I’d pulled it off. Did she think I’d done it on purpose? Fuck. She’d probably seen those yacht photos and all the tabloid shots with women draped over me. And then, there I was, half naked in front of her in my bedroom. Mybedroom. Just me and her.
Of course she’d think I was trying something.
I’d even done a twirl in the damn thing.
What an idiot.
Or was it thebox?
I’d slammed it a bit too fast, trying to hide it. Got too close to her, too quickly. What had she said earlier?Intimidating.
Yeah. Nice work, Roth.
