Page 39 of RomeAntically Challenged
“All right.” He held up a finger to make sure he was understood. “But only because you’re a sweet girl and I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss. Idiot or not, he looks like a hard-ass. But if I come back and he requests a mammogram—”
“He won’t,” Annie said quickly. “I promise.”
Les lifted a challenging brow.
“You have my word,” she reassured him, but Les was already shuffling down the hallway, like a penguin with his egg between his feet. The moment he was out of sight, Annie burst out laughing.
It wasn’t the most appropriate response to this mess, but it was better than crying.
Or quitting. Thankfully it was her lunch break, and she’d brought leftover pizza.
Annie researched the correct department to address Les’s unusual situation and sent an e-mail detailing what had transpired. She was signing the e-mail when her phone buzzed.
She checked her phone’s screen and her belly did a little flip—with excitement or nerves she wasn’t sure.
She refused to let herself smile as she texted back.
Plans that didn’t include sharing her day over a beer with a man who wore glow-in-the-dark undies and warned women that he wasn’t a good investment.
His words gave her pause. The downfall of texting was that there was no way to decipher the intent behind his words. On the upside, he couldn’t see her blush. The emotion-free factor made texting the communication choice of men everywhere. But if she had to guess, she’d say those words were carefully chosen and loneliness was the reason behind his reaching out.
Not many people knew what it was like to be with company and feel completely alone. Nor did they know how isolating it was.
She’d barely finished texting when another one came through.
Annie’s lips twitched; she couldn’t help it. Three little emojis had erased all the ick from the day. By the time she texted back, she was laughing.
Annie paused, her fingers in mid text.
Was he trying to say that out of his limitless options for dinner companions, he’d picked her? Regardless, the last thing she needed was to play house with the sexy roomie who made her nervous. His smile made her nervous too. But not as much as the way her body reacted when he was near.
Annie was about to power down her phone when the screen lit up.
“You are so annoying,” she shouted at the phone, ignoring the orderly who clearly thought she was crazy.
Emmitt made her crazy, in all the wrong ways—and some of the right ones.
While she’d been text-fighting with Emmitt, a speck of giddy anticipation had crept its way out of that deep, dark place she’d buried it and into her belly, making it tingle.
Tingling was bad. Tingling over an immature argument with her male roommate was very bad.
Afraid she might text back“Sponge baths happen in bed, not the kitchen,”Annie turned her phone to airplane mode, then zoomed in on the rental agreement photo. It was only the first page of the contract, and she read it twice, but it did zilch to calm her nerves.
All she could gather was that the house was officially listed as an Airbnb, so the agreement wasn’t your standard lease. It did, however, contain a clause that allowed for the owner, or renter, to terminate the agreement seven days prior to stay. Did that mean if Emmitt gave her notice today, she’d have to find a new place by next week? Or that he’d had to have issued the notice seven days prior to the beginning of her stay?
She hadn’t a clue. There was only one thing of which she was certain. Tingles or not, Annie was done with being the one to always pack up and move.
Chapter 12
As Annie circled the grocery store parking lot, she contemplated whether now was a good time to call her mother.
By good, she meant the best time for the call to go to voice mail.
She needed the Walsh family matzo ball soup recipe. Not a lecture on how Annie had let another good one slip through her fingers. She pulled up her mom’s contact info, her palms going sweaty when it rang.
“Annie, honey? Is that you?” Her mother’s voice filled the car. “Marty, Annie’s on the phone.”
In the background came a muffled, “Is that Annie?”
