Page 69 of An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle 1)
Elliot’s not in bed by the time I wake up. He’s got to be a morning person, although given how little sleep he had last night, I don’t see how he can function.
My face heats, remembering what happened. I was so shameless, using him for comfort and solace. It’s a good thing he didn’t mind. I’d like to blame it on his being a man—what guy says no to sex?—but I know better. I’m beginning to realize that Elliot only has sex when he wants to, with the partner of his choosing, not when just anyone lifts her skirt and spreads her legs.
I don’t know why I had the nightmare. I haven’t had it for over a year now. There’s absolutely no reason for me to doubt my ability to provide for Nonny now. She’ll be in a better school in no time at all, and I’m going to have the means to support her the way she deserves after my year of fake marriage with Elliot is over.
By the time I shower, throw on a T-shirt and skirt and pad barefoot to the kitchen for coffee, it’s seven. Nonny is at the counter, devouring a bowl of cereal. She’s in a brand new yellow dress, cut in a modest but not outdated way. Golden sandals look good on her, complementing the subtle tan of her legs.
“Morning,” I say, pouring fresh java into the first mug my hand grasps. It reads Nothing Says Amour like Paris in gold. In the background is a silver Eiffel Tower.
“Morning.”
“Where’d you get the dress and shoes?”
“They just showed up in my room. Elliot said they were mine when I asked yesterday.”
Guilt twinges in my conscience. I didn’t even think about getting her a new outfit during the last few days. Making sure Nonny’s okay and taken care of should’ve been at the top of my priority list. “Well they look great on you.”
“Thanks!” She beams. “He has such good taste.”
Him or Josephine. He hasn’t had time to go shopping either, unless he can be in two places at the same time. “Have you seen him?”
She nods. “He grabbed a cup of coffee, then went up to his office.” She shovels the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Did you know I’m starting at the new school today?” she asks around the food.
“Chew and swallow before you talk,” I say in reflex. “And no, I didn’t.” Elliot mentioned it yesterday. The man works fast. “Are you okay with the transfer? I thought you wanted to go on the band trip.”
“I did, but…” She shrugs. “The new school has a band too, and they probably haven’t done their trip yet. It’s still early in the year.”
My shoulders sag with gratitude. I seriously lucked out when I got a sister as sweet and mature as Nonny.
“The bus’s coming to get me.” She frowns. “I hope it’s a better school.” And by that, she means a place where she can fit in.
She slides off her stool, her hands smoothing her dress. A silver bracelet with unic
orn charms sparkles around her slim wrist. It’s from our mom, given to her on her twelfth birthday, and Nonny’s never taken it off.
“I’m sure it’ll be fantastic,” I say, giving her a tight hug. Based on what I’ve seen of Elliot, he isn’t the type to put her in just any school. He’s probably done his homework. “Do you want me to drive you?”
“No. It’s okay. I mean…I want to scope things out a little bit on my own, you know?”
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
I watch her go. I’m tempted to drive her to the new school anyway, but I merely tighten my grip on my mug instead. It’s her choice, and I should respect that. She hasn’t had much control in her life. I want her to start learning to be assertive and confident about her wants and decisions…while making sure she isn’t being reckless, of course.
Cradling the coffee in both hands, I wander around until I find Elliot’s office. It’s the fourth room with an en suite bathroom. The place is spacious, with a huge desk and an executive chair by the window and a couple of pale leather couches long enough for him to stretch out on if he wants to catch a quick nap or something. The walls are barren, and there isn’t any other furniture. The desk is also empty of everything except a desktop computer and a laptop.
“No, absolutely not. They’ve got the causation mixed up,” he says into his Bluetooth headset. A T-shirt and cargo shorts mold to his frame. The morning sunlight creates a stark silhouette, revealing all the perfect lines of his masterfully honed body.
He turns around as if sensing my presence. “Hold on a minute.” He takes a few steps toward me until he’s standing so close that I can feel his body heat. He raises a hand, as though to touch me, but then drops it. “You okay?” His gaze roams over my face, searching.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I was wondering…” I clear my throat. “I want to get started on the reception slash dinner you were talking about. And…yeah, um, I’m wondering where to begin.” I know nothing about planning stuff like this.
“The menu,” he says. “Decide on a theme. But you could also start with the wine, then go from there.”
I have no idea what that even means. What theme? And wine? What do I know about wine, anyway? I don’t even drink.
“Do you need anything else?” he says.
