Page 58 of The Geek and the Sheikh

“Uh, thanks,” Jameel dryly replied as the gates slowly opened.

Junebug grinned. “I think I’m going to like him.”

Jameel’s smothered laughter made her giggle again. “I have to warn you, Gilbert is—”

“Eccentric. Yes, you’ve already warned me,” she said.

Jameel drove through the gates which closed immediately after he passed through them. Gravel from the drive crunched under the wheels of the car as he drove a long way down and pulled up in front of the house.

Junebug opened her door at the same time as one massive, thick oak door opened and an elderly man with thick gray hair sticking out in every direction stepped out. Gilbert’s eyes lit up with delight when he saw Junebug.

She flowed out of the car, up the steps, and into Gilbert’s waiting arms as if she had known him her entire life. There was a natural connection between the souls of two people who didn’t quite fit into the normal world. She hugged Gilbert’s thin, wiry frame, surprised at the strong grip of his embrace.

She leaned back, almost eye-to-eye with him. “Hi, Gilbert. I’m Junebug, but you can call me Bugs if you want,” she greeted.

“Be still my beating heart. Please tell me you haven’t fallen for that dastardly handsome young prince and that I might stand a tiny chance in this vast universe,” Gilbert teased.

Junebug laughed and shook her head. “I fear I’ve fallen hard. If only I had known you first.”

Gilbert released her with a hearty laugh. “Where did you find this delightful girl? Does she know of your disreputable reputation?”

Jameel scowled as he climbed the steps leading to the front door. “What do you know of my reputation?”

Gilbert reached forward and gripped Jameel in a bear hug. At almost a foot shorter and half of Jameel’s mass, the small man would still fill any space he occupied. Jameel groaned, gave the elderly man an awkward hug, and pulled back.

“We need your help,” Jameel said in a sober tone.

Gilbert’s cheery expression immediately turned serious and Gilbert nodded.

“Come in. Come in. We can discuss what is going while we have some refreshments. Problem solving always goes much better with a cup of hot tea,” Gilbert replied.

“I thought you hated tea,” Jameel said as he followed Junebug through the door and into the foyer.

Gilbert released a disgruntled snort and sighed. “Yes, well, my doctor told my housekeeper that I need to cut back on my coffee intake. The old witch only allows me one cup a day now.”

“I heard that, you old buzzard. I’m the only thing keeping you alive. You aren’t even supposed to have the one.”

“Now, Agatha. I meant 'the old witch' in the nicest of ways,” Gilbert hastily amended.

“I know what you meant.” Agatha gave Gilbert a stern glare before she turned a brilliant smile on Junebug and Jameel. “I’ve laid out refreshments in the sitting room.”

Junebug stared at the boisterous woman who had appeared from a side room. Agatha looked like the old woman from the shoe poem that her mother had read to her when she was little. The woman stood a half-foot taller than Gilbert and was portly to his lean frame. She wore what could only be a uniform the color of a gray English morning with a pristine white apron over the front. Her gray hair was swept up into a tight bun with nary a hair out of place. Her gray eyes twinkled behind the thick red frames of her glasses.

“Do you have hot chocolate?” Junebug asked.

“Of course, love. I make it from scratch, too. None of that powder crap they try to pass as hot chocolate,” Agatha said.

“I can help you make it,” she offered.

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. One who doesn’t think she is too good to be in the kitchen! Come on, love. I even have some of these marshmallows that my daughter sends me that have chocolate in the center. What will they think of next?” Agatha chuckled.

“I love those!”

The older woman wrapped a motherly arm through hers and propelled her down a long corridor, chatting about how she made her hot chocolate. Junebug looked over her shoulder and grinned at Jameel who smiled back at her with a bemused expression. Gilbert was talking his ear off and Junebug suspected that Jameel hadn’t heard a word of what the other man was talking about.

“So, tell me, child. Who are you running from?” Agatha inquired.

“A former billionaire, some mercenaries, and a hacker named Allison,” she answered.

---