Page 17 of Revealing Mark
“My guy will be here in half an hour.”
“Geez, do you have a locksmith on speed dial?” I shook my head as I stirred my tea.
“Something like that,” he said, entering my small kitchen. I was acutely aware of how small it was with his presence.
“You want something to drink?” I asked, nodding in the direction of the fridge. I had stocked some soda, beer and water.
He opened my fridge and took out a beer. He twisted off the top and took a few gulps.
It was so easy to stand there and just watch him but if I was going to keep my obvious attraction to him a secret, I would have to watch myself.
“I’ve asked him to install a lock that closes automatically.” He casually leaned against the counter across from me.
I nodded. “Thanks.” It was his way of getting around my forgetfulness.
I sipped my tea. “You’ll let me know how much I owe you for replacing it.”
He frowned. “No. This is on me.”
I cleared my throat. “I can’t let you do that. I pay my own way.”
“It’ll help me sleep better at night so it will be worth every penny.”
Did he lose sleep over worrying about me? That’s what his words implied. Or was I making more out of it than he meant? Was Sophie’s take on us making me look at him differently? There was no way to know for sure.
“I didn’t know you lost sleep over me.” I couldn’t stop that from coming out, and he smirked.
“From the day you moved out of your parents’ place.”
My hand trembled and I set my cup on the counter. “You worry too much,” I returned, brushing off his concern as something that had no basis.
“You’re the most disorganized person I’ve ever met.”
I bet that wasn’t a compliment.
“I’ve gotten better,” I argued. It had been a month since I had lost my car keys and had to have them replaced.
“I doubt that,” he replied dryly. “You still don’t like driving long distances or at night.”
“That has nothing to do with my organization skills or forgetfulness. I’m a nervous driver.”
Hours later I was pacing my apartment, feeling more frustrated and irritated by the second. The phone rang and rang.Come on, Jack, pick up. It went to voicemail and I wanted to throw my phone against the wall.
Mark had stayed until his guy had replaced my front door lock with some fancy new age state-of-the-art lock I could unlock with my phone. I was happier with my conventional one with a key but I let Mark have his way so I could get rid of him.
Since he had left an hour ago, I had been trying to get hold of Jack, to no avail. That little weasel. I was so angry, I could hit something. I wasn’t a violent person but that asshole brought out the worst in me.
I had an appointment tomorrow and I needed my equipment. I couldn’t do the photo shoot without it. The camera I still had with me wouldn’t be sufficient to pull off the shots I needed. It would be too late to try and rent what I needed. My only alternative would be to reschedule it, but that was a last resort.
Jack knew I needed my stuff to be able to earn a living. I still couldn’t figure out what he hoped to gain by doing something so immature.
My phone rang but I was disappointed to see my sister’s name flashing as the ID of the incoming call.
“Hi,” I greeted.
“Hey,” she said. “Have you got the keys back?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “No.”
