Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Oh, no. That’s, you know, your space. I don’t want to intrude on your personal space.”
“Honey, I’m expecting you to change my sheets and clean the floors. You’re going to need to be in there all the time anyway.”
“I know, but it’s… I don’t know… different. Right? Like, it’s weird.”
“Only if you make it weird,” he said, shrugging it off as he twirled more spaghetti.
“Well, I am very good at that,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Screwing up first impressions, cursing at inappropriate times, making shit weird… all specialties of mine.”
“Eh, stop worrying about it so much,” he said, shaking his head. “What a waste of energy, wondering what other people think about you. Let you in on a little secret,” he said, leaning in closer. “Most people don’t give a fuck. And those who do can fuck off.”
“I like that mindset,” I decided, giving him a smile. “Oh, that’s probably the furniture,” I said when the doorbell chimed.
“I got it. You didn’t even start eating yet,” he said.
Then, before I could object, he was moving off to answer the door.
I finished my food, then set to cleaning up the dinner mess, using the pan and an upturned plate to store the remaining pasta in the fridge since, of course, there were no storage containers. Which I added to my list.
There were so many things you need to start a house. I think I took for granted how many little things I’d gotten from my mom after she passed.
“Thanks again,” Emilio said before there was silence again. “I like the shit you picked out,” he said as he came into the kitchen. “Fits the house.”
“That was what I was going for,” I agreed, nodding, then making another mental note to go online and kind of look up decorating ideas for a Manhattan Brownstone. “I’m glad you like it. There’s plenty more pasta in the fridge, but I think we have to eat all this garlic bread, because I have nothing to store it away in yet,” I said, holding out a piece to him.
So then we ate garlic bread as I rambled off some of the things I thought were on the priority list for the house, getting nothing but agreement from Emilio.
“All sounds good to me. It’s been overdue, actually. I will leave some more money in the morning,” he said. “Spend as much as you need to. If it’s not enough, shoot me a text and I’ll find some time to bring you more. Or send Ant.”
“I’m sure it will be—“
“If you need more money, text me, and I will bring you more,” he reiterated, giving me a small smirk as he did so.
“Got it,” I agreed, nodding.
“It’s a big house, honey. I know it’s going to take a lot of money to get all the shit it needs. Don’t stress about the cash. I’m not,” he added, taking the last piece of garlic bread. “I have to take some calls,” he said. “But go on to bed. There’s nothing else to do around here tonight.”
I did just that, climbing into bed with my phone, saving some recipes and design ideas, before setting it aside, realizing just how tired I actually was.
And for just a moment as I drifted off to sleep on the most comfortable mattress I’d ever been on, under the most luxurious sheets I’d ever felt, this whole thing started to feel a lot less like a covert job and more like my life.
That, that was a dangerous mindset to let myself fall into.
CHAPTER FIVE
Emilio
I didn’t see Avery the following morning. Not that I expected to. I got up at the crack of dawn to hit the gym with Ant, so even when I got home to shower, it was still unreasonably early to expect her to be awake.
What was a little… jarring, was how much I wanted to see her. Even if little disasters seemed to follow her everywhere she went.
I found it kind of charming.
I think the women I knew well were so practiced at keeping a house seamlessly that it was really refreshing to watch Avery trip her way through it.
And, in her defense, she had next to nothing to work with.
She’d done a good job so far. The furniture she’d gotten for her room was shit I would have picked out myself. Better, even.
Coming home to a hot meal was also nice for a change. I’d been too tired to think about going to grab something. So I figured I would just have a cup of coffee to power me through the couple of phone calls I needed to make, then crash hungry.
Sure, there was the whole burning herself with hot water because I’d snuck up on her thing.
That was my fault. I was so used to living alone that I forgot to announce my presence so I didn’t freak her out.