Page 49 of Mr. Wrong
“Just some loser you met at a bar?”
My mouth falls open and my gaze darts past him to find my phone. It’s where I left it, charging on the nightstand. But that doesn’t matter. He read them. The texts from Derek. I know he did because when I look back at him, he’s watching me quietly, like he’s waiting for me to accuse him of something we both know he’s guilty of.
“You’re not a loser.” I don’t even care that he read them. That he invaded my privacy. What I care about is that when I say it, he looks at me like I’m lying to him. “You’re not—”
“Sure I am.” He gives me a shrug before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “I’m a college drop-out who’s spent the last six years of his life hiding in his brother’s mansion, living off his money so I wouldn’t have to get a real job or live areal life.” He takes a step back and looks away from me. “It’s okay, Elle—I get it. I wouldn’t want to be with me either.” Swiping a rough hand over his face he sighs before turningtoward the door. “Take your time getting ready. I’ll get Cassie going for the morning—she’ll be ready to start by nine if that’s okay.”
Because I don’t know what else to say or do, I just nod. “Nine is perfect.”
Before I can think of the right thing to say he stoops down to pick up my robe. “I’ll save you some breakfast,” he tells me, walking my robe to the bathroom where he hangs it on its hook.
“Lex—”
“Do you want him back?” He stops in the bathroom doorway, hand still attached to my robe and looks at me. “Derek—do you want him back?”
“No.” I shake my head, swallowing hard against the lump his question lodges in my throat. “No, I don’t.”
He lets his hand drop to his side and his mouth quirks a little like he’s not sure he believes what I’m telling him. “Then why haven’t you told him that?”
“I—” I shake my head because I don’t know. I don’t know why I haven’t told Derek to leave me alone. To stop texting me. “I don’t know.”
Lex barks out a harsh laugh when I say it. “You don’t know.” He nods his head. “Okay…”
I hurt his feelings. I don’t know how or why but I did. I can see it on his face. Shaking my head, I take a half step forward. “Lex—”
“And just so you know—” He shows me his hands and shrugs, stopping me cold. “I happen to be a big fucking fan of pudding.”
Before I can say anything or even register what he just said to me, he’s gone. Disappeared through the open bedroom door. A few seconds later, the clap of the front door being slammed tells me he’s gone.
Thirty-Two
Lex
When I walkinto the main house, Cassie is waiting for me on the back stairs like she is every morning. When Landon is gone, I try to get here as close to seven as I can, so I cause as little disruption to Greta’s schedule as possible. The last hour or so with Ellenore has thrown me off schedule, so when I roll in, it’s somewhere between seven-thirty and eight o’clock.
“It’s you!” Cassie crows from her perch on the stairs, jumping up to hurdle her little body at me when I let myself in. “Where’s Elle?” she asks, a slight frown on her face. As excited as she is to see me, she’s also disappointed that Ellenore isn’t here with me.
“She’s coming.” I give her a quick smile. “We’re going to make breakfast for her, cool?”
The question wipes the frown right off her face. “Cool.” She gives me a smile and a nod. “Can we make eggs Benedict?”
Because it’s the fanciest breakfast in our repertoire and it’s obvious that she’s eager to impress Ellenore, I give her a nod and smile back. “Sure,” I tell her. “But remember that Hollandaise is kinda hard.” The last time we made it she cried because the sauce broke and came out lumpy.
“I know, but I thought about it and I like her,” Cassie says, that frown of hers coming back because she’s worried about how I’m going to take her decision. “Elle—I like her and I want her to like me back, is that okay?”
Because I feel the exact same way and I’m afraid I fucked things up with Ellenore for good, I have to force myself to keep smiling. “It’s better than okay,” I assure her, setting her on her feet. “I’ll get rid of Greta, you get the eggs.”
Walking Greta to the door, I tell her that we won’t need her until her regular time tonight. “Are you sure?” she asks, confused. “When Mr. Landon is gone, I usually come at seven.”
“I’m sure.” I give her the same nod and smile I gave Cassie. “Landon asked me to be as helpful and accommodating to Ellen—Elleas I can, so we’re going to split the day shift.”
“Okay…” she says, giving an odd, half-smile as she reaches for the doorknob. “I know no one asked me, but I think this is a good thing, Mr. Alex.”
My mouth quirks when she says it because Greta is the only person besides my mother that calls me Alex. “Landon was right.” I give her another nod. “Cassie needs her.”
Something draws Greta’s attention and I follow her gaze out the window set in the door to watch Ellenore step out onto the front porch of the pool house and pull the door closed behind her before making her way toward the main house. She’s traded the jeans and T-shirt I watched her put on after her shower for a pink sundress, topped with a bright green cardigan, her long dark hair loose and caught away from her face.
“I think we all need her.”
