Page 25 of Maid For Each Other

Abi

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the knock.

After stopping at the convenience store in the lobby for a twelve-pack of Diet Pepsi, I came straight up and had barely removed my shoes when three very heavy knocks banged on the door.

I looked through the peephole and it was Declan.

“Who is it?” I said.

“I know you can see me,” he said, looking calmly exasperated.

I opened the door. “Hi, there.”

“Hi, there,” he said, somehow managing to inject sarcasm into the two tiny words. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure. Come in.” It was a ludicrous thing to say when it washishouse, but my life had become ludicrous.

I turned and went into the living room, assuming that’s where he’d want to talk, and after he closed the door, he followed me over.

I plopped down on the big white sofa,verytired of wearing the cocktail dress, and said, “What’s up?”

He reached up and loosened his tie a little more, looking unhappy. “So, what would you say if I asked you to keep up this little charade with me for the shareholder weekend?”

I accidentally made ayou’re nutsnoise in the back of my throat as I tucked my legs underneath me. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “I’m totally serious.”

“Oh.” This was definitely unexpected. “Well, then, no, thank you.”

“Come on,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Absolutely not,” I said, uninterested in more pretending.

“Why not?”

“Whynot?” Had he not been there? “For starters, I have a life.”

“Whichyouchose to drop into mine without permission.”

I rolled my eyes. “And you don’t even like me.”

“That’s not true,” he said, but his face didn’t support the argument. He looked like he was discussing getting a second root canal when he added, “I don’tnotlike you.”

“It’s embarrassing when you gush like that, Powell.” There was no way I was going to spend an entire weekend juggling lies and chitchat with wealthy strangers. I’d found a way to make it fun for a few hours, but as a rule, I avoided situations where I had no control. “And again—no, thank you.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” He rubbed the side of his neck.

“Nope.”

“There has to be something you want.Somethingthat would make this doable.”

“Give me your car.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug.

“What?”

He shrugged again, like it was literally no big deal, and said, “I have other cars. I’ll give you the twelve-ninety if you give me the weekend.”

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