Page 18 of The Waiter at Table 6

Especially when she hurriedly pulls a silk robe on, making sure to not expose any part of her naked body in the process, and asks with forced cheer, “Would you like some coffee?”

Sighing, I climb out of bed and reach for my slacks on the nearby chaise lounge. As much as I wish Vanessa wasn’t putting this space between us, I get it.

“Coffee would be great. Thank you.”

“Great!” she squeaks. Turning in place, she hurries out the bedroom door, her robe flaring out behind her. I quickly tug on my shirt and follow.

Striding behind her down the hall, I open my mouth to try to get her attention back. But I don’t even get a sound out, because the moment we reach the top of the stairs, the view of the entire house extends before me.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, freezing in my tracks.

The house…is incredible.

First of all, it’s gigantic. I noticed it was big last night on the beach, but not this big. This is a luxury mansion.

And it’s gorgeous. It’s wide open, with floor-to-ceiling windows, and from up here, I can see Vanessa hitting a button that completely opens the back wall to reveal the patio.

The patio with an infinity pool.

“This is… Holy shit.”

Vanessa finally notices that I’m not behind her any longer and looks up at me from the kitchen. Seeing me slack-jawed at the top of the stairs, she glances around her house again.

“Why are you surprised? You saw it last night.”

I finally swallow my shock and lock eyes with her. “I was looking at you last night.”

Even from up here, I can see the breath she sucks in at my words. And even though I see a pretty flush again, she’s clearly still uncomfortable, still out of her element.

I move down the stairs as she spins toward one of the kitchen counters. It looks like she’s touching something on the quartz, but then she grabs a mug when a whirring sound starts up, and I realize it’s a built-in coffee maker.

“I’ll sell it, eventually,” she says suddenly without looking at me.

I watch her from across the counter. “Sell what?”

“The house. It’s ridiculous for one person, and it’s not like I’m rolling in money anymore. I just…haven’t worked up the courage to let it go yet.”

I glance around again. “It’s not going to take long to sell. This place is amazing. And the interior design is incredible.”

For some reason, that evokes a whole new reaction. Her cheeks pinken, looking pleased.

“Really?” she asks.

My focus immediately shifts back to her. Studying her closely, I catalogue her expression, and the way she’s looking around now too. The excited sparkle in her eyes.

“You designed it, didn’t you?”

Her eyes snap back to mine. She doesn’t answer, but I can read her well enough that I know I’m right. She’s a creative. Interesting.

“This is looking suspiciously like a passion, Vanessa,” I say carefully.

Her eyes go wide for a second, but then she’s waving me off. “This was just for fun,” she says. “It’s not… It’s not a career. Anybody could’ve done this.”

I take in the details—the perfectly balanced color palette, the minimalist style, the décor with just a hint of ocean inspiration—and say dryly, “Agree to disagree on that, babe.”

The endearment drops naturally. And when it also causes her lips to twitch with a small smile, I wonder if I might actually have a chance at uncovering last night’s carefree Vanessa once again.

There’s a beep from the coffee machine, making Vanessa’s focus jerk toward it.

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