Page 108 of Dying to Meet You
It shouldn’t be relaxing to have a man in the house. Especially an ex-con who once abandoned me.
It shouldn’t be. But somehow it is.
40
Tuesday
In the morning, I hit the snooze button too many times and end up rushing to get ready for work. By the time I make it downstairs, it’s after eight.
In the kitchen, I notice coffee’s already been made. Harrison is quietly nursing a cup at the kitchen table, while watching Natalie buzz around the kitchen.
She’s on a call, her earbuds jammed into her ears, buttering toast as she argues with a friend. Tessa, from the sounds of it. “We don’t want to work at a gym. That place smells like feet.” She jams a corner of the toast in her mouth. “Yeah, okay, the smoothie bar seems better. It’s small, though? Do you think they needtwopeople?”
I nudge her out of the way and put a piece of bread into the toaster for myself. Then I point at the crumbs on the counter.
She ignores me. “Yes! The gelato place. Good call. When do you think they open?”
With a sigh, I brush the crumbs into my palm and dust them into the sink.
“Okay. Sure. I’ll be done with my bio exam at... eleven? Yeah, I can get the car.”
I make a noise of disbelief.
Natty turns to me, as if suddenly realizing I’m alive. “Mom, can I use the car?”
“Youmayuse the car, and thanks for asking. But you can’t get a job thatrequiresthe car. For obvious reasons.”
She frowns. “Okay, yeah, I can use the car.”
Harrison gives a low chuckle from the corner.
“See you in a while?” She shoves another bite of toast in her mouth.“I’ve got my test. And today’s the last day to take my textbooks back to school before they fine me.”
“Again?” I grab a mug and pour myself a cup of coffee.
She finally hangs up her call. “It’s under control, Mom. I’ll make it.” She runs out of the kitchen.
My toast pops, and I butter it tidily. I’m self-conscious with Harrison sitting there at the table watching me. Maybe he senses it, because I hear his chair push back against the wood floor. “Rowan.”
Without even thinking, I turn at the sound of his voice. The way I used to.
He’s in the doorway, mug in hand. “I’m calling every room for rent in Portland today. I promise.” He gives me a faint smile. “This was selfish of me. I could probably have conned Cal Baxter into letting me crash on his couch for a few nights. I know I don’t deserve your generosity. But this right here...” He waves in the direction of the messy countertop. “Just a half hour watching her run in circles in your kitchen is the best gift anyone has given me in a long time. And I won’t forget it.”
Then he slips out of the room.
***
It’s a busy day of meetings with the general contractor. But most of the time we’re outside in the sunshine, walking the site and discussing the plans for the Orangerie.
As a bonus, I’ve successfully avoided Beatrice all day. I don’t have the bandwidth to navigate her judgment of my new living situation.
Eventually I have to go inside, though. And when I enter the library, I can hear her voice in the inner office. “Yousaythat, but I’m still the best man for the job.”
I stop midstride, because she sounds upset.
“Hank, that’s crap! I’d bring more energy to the job than anyone else. I care more, and that counts for a lot. Youknowit does.”
Uh-oh.
