Page 88 of One Night Only
“Elena! Hi.” He sounds oddly out of breath. “Helping your dad out?”
“He pays me extra for Saturday mornings.”
“Elena’s dad works in the office directly below us,” Declan explains to me. He jumps then, sending the tables rattling. Elena laughs.
“It’s just me today.” Her eyes flick to me and her good mood falters slightly. “Is this your…girlfriend?”
“This is my architect.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
She looks equal parts relieved and disappointed. “You’re really moving?”
“We’ve signed the lease on a new place, but it needs work. A lot of work.” He points his thumb at me. “That’s where this one comes in. She’s going to make it pretty.”
“I’ll make it work,” I say. “We have other people to make it pretty.”
“As long as there’s a slide between floors I’m happy. I’ll have to bring you guys over when we get everything set up,” he adds to Elena. “Have ourselves a party.”
“That would be fun.” She glances between us. “Well, I better go,” she says reluctantly. “I just wanted to make sure no one was breaking in.”
“Hey, you still up for next weekend? I could really use your help.”
“I don’t know,” she begins only to laugh at Declan’s exaggerated gasp.
“Come on,” he says. “You loved it last time.”
“I’ll see what my dad says.”
“That’s a yes,” Declan says. “Your dad loves me.”
“He loves the wine you bring him.”
“Same thing. I’m putting you down for ten o’clock.”
“Okay,” she says shyly and looks back to me. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too!” I call as she backs out into the hallway.
She gives a limp wave and then she’s gone, closing the door softly behind her.
Declan turns to me. I raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She has a crush on me.”
“You don’t say?”
He smiles. “Jealous, Sarah?”
“Of the high school student?”
“She’s going to college in the fall.”
“You’re a cradle snatcher.”
“I can’t help it. It’s the accent.”
“Uh-uh.” I turn back to the pictures, pretending to look through them as I will my heartbeat to slow. If Elena hadn’t interrupted, I don’t know what would have happened. No doubt something I’d regret. “What’s next weekend?”
