Page 69 of Perfume Girl
“I just made the decision.”
Maybe she was in denial.
“Where are you staying in South Beach?” I asked.
The driving distance between South Beach and Dunedin was at least five or six hours and from the way her clothes were scattered on the floor, including the dress she’d worn this afternoon at the polo match, I surmised she must be staying here on the weekends.
“During the week I’m at a hotel,” she explained.
“Which one?” I dared to ask.
“It’s nice. Cozy.”
“Which one, Raquel?”
“Fairweather Inn Hotel.”
I didn’t bother trying to hide my horrified expression. “I have a place. It’s close to work and comfortable. You will stay there.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Do I look like I’m negotiating?” I scanned the room one final time. “Pack your bags. We’ll leave for your new place after dinner.”
“What’s the rent going to be?”
I smiled. “How about a month rent free? That’ll give you enough time to close the store and find a decent place.”
She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want your charity.”
“I’m your employer. I need you focused. You’re probably not getting any sleep in thatmotel.” I corrected its name.
“This is a lot to take in.”
“Time to pack, Ms. Wren.” I waved my hand in the air. “Living here isn’t even legal.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It just became my business. Gather your things.”
“This is so embarrassing,” she mumbled.
“Hey—” I walked over and brought her in for a hug, feeling her tremble against me. “There’s no strings attached. I won’t bother you. You’ll have a safe and comfortable home that is a big improvement on this or any hotel.”
She stared up at me. “I’m more independent than you realize.”
“That sounds like ano,” I said darkly. “It’s a word I’m not used to hearing.”
“How will I repay you?”
“You and I are friends,” I said, trying to soothe her. “And this is what friends do.” I hugged her tighter, cursing myself for making everything more complicated than it already was.
This level of empathy wasn’t usually in me.
There was just something so authentic about Raquel—and I knew pain when I saw it. If all of this was indeed an elaborate trap to bewitch me, I would turn it around and set my own. I could handle this. Handleher.
As long as I kept the promise to myself that there’d be no more intimacy between us, everything would work out fine and we’d find a resolution. The thought crossed my mind that I could tap the phone in my beachfront property, and the surveillance I had in place would ensure I could watch her coming and going more closely. Though there were no cameras in the bedroom. I wasn’t a complete psycho.
There was something to be said for keeping one’s enemy close.
