Page 65 of Maid For Each Other

Instead of texting, my phone started ringing. It was him, of course.

When I answered, he said, “I don’t care about stuff.”

Stuff.He considered a fifteen-thousand-dollar necklace “stuff.”

I didn’t want to get into it, so I said, “This is random, but do you mind if I use your kitchen implements? I’ll buy my own groceries, but I would really love to bake in your fabulous kitchen one more time before I go.”

“I thought you said you only know three recipes,” he said.

“That’s cooking.” I leaned down to peer into the back of the fridge. “Baking is another thing entirely.”

“Of course,” he said, sounding amused. “Yeah, uh, feel free to use whatever you want and if I have the things you need, don’t go buy groceries.”

I stood back up straight. “Why are you being so nice? Are you so happy this is over that you’re kissing my ass in celebration?”

“I suppose that’s part of it,” he said. “And now that I sort of know you, I guess you feel a little less like a threat.”

“Did you see me as a threat before?” Was I threatening? I kind of liked that thought. “I don’t know that anybody has ever called me that before.”

“It was your attitude. I wasn’t scared of you causing me bodily harm, but I was a little terrified about what you might do to my life and reputation.”

I shut the fridge and wandered over to the pantry. “Is this the part where you’re going to admit that I was fantastic?”

“This is the part where I’m admitting you didn’t destroy everything.”

“I guess I’ll take it,” I said, stepping into what was basically another room. His pantry was stocked from floor to ceiling with dry goods and ingredients, and I’d never be over it.

“So what are you doing with the rest of your day?” he asked, and I thought how weird it was that he was chatting with me on the phone like a friend. Like, whatwasthat? And even weirder was that it felt so…comfortable.

Was Declan my friend now?

“I want to get some ideas outlined before class tomorrow, and I have to work at Benny’s tomorrow morning and clean a unit in your building down on five tomorrow night.”

“Is it weird that I kind of forgot you do that?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is weird,” I replied. “What’s weirder will be the first time I have to cleanthisplace now that I know you.”

“I might have to become a slob,” he said teasingly, “just to ruin your life.”

“That sounds on-brand with who I thought you were before.” I dropped to a squat and noticed he had every single flavor of Doritos, all lined up on a shelf.

“I should probably take advantage of this time before I board and get some work done,” he said. “My inbox is overflowing.”

Was it overflowing with Hathaway work or with Romanwork, which was still a giant question mark? My curiosity couldn’t take it anymore so I decided to throw out, “So what kind of stuff do you and Roman do, investment-wise?”

There was a brief pause before he answered.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked.

What a…weird way to not answer my question.

“I don’t. I mean, I’m just curious,” I explained. “Because it’s unique to see two best friends working on investments together in their spare time.”

And by “unique,” I mean suspicious.

“It’s kind of…complicated,” he said, his tone warning me to butt out.

“And it has nothing to do with Hathaway, you said?” I asked.

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