Page 13 of Loving the CEO

"I forgot to pack those." She pointed at two coats by the entrance.

"I've got them." I grabbed them, carrying both in one arm. “Anything else?”

Standing at the bottom of the stairway, she glanced at what I assumed was the door leading to the living room.

"No," she murmured. "Let's just go."

I took out my phone, ordering an Uber. "It’s coming in a minute. Wasn’t expecting such a short waiting time on Friday evening.”

"There are lots of drivers on Fridays."

After we walked out, she pulled the door closed with a lot more strength than needed and locked it. A horn blared, startling her.

"Our impatient Uber driver is here," I informed her. We descended the three steps leading from the door down to the porch. "You get in the Uber. I'll put this in the back."

After getting the bag into the trunk, I sat in the back next to her. We were completely silent on the ten-minute drive.

Her phone kept ringing. "You know what I'll do? I'll put my phone in Airplane Mode. Walter can deal with everything."

"Good call. Want me to keep it for the rest of the evening so you aren't tempted?"

“You're a genius, Leo Whitley.”

“That's music to my ears. You have no idea how many years I've waited to hear you say that.”

She lightly smacked my arm. “Hey, you’re the one who always wanted to copy stuff from my essays in college, so that's not my fault.”

“Exactly,” I said playfully.

“Let me just text Debbie. I didn’t even tell her what’s going on. Oh, and I’d better get in touch with Nancy too.”

Debbie was her best friend whom I’d met in college a number of times. I glanced away as she typed on her phone, then handed it to me. I put it in my empty back pocket.

We arrived at our destination a few minutes later.

"This is lovely," she said, gazing up and down at the B&B. It was a Greek-Revival Garden District mansion.

The elderly lady on the porch stood up when she saw us. "Are you the Whitleys?"

I stole a glance at Tory. She was blushing.

“It's Leo Whitley and Tory Daniels. I booked two rooms.”

“That’s right, I saw the booking when you placed it. Come on in, please. Feel at home. You've got the place to yourself.”

"Perfect.” I leaned closer to Tory. "Let's make a deal for this evening."

She turned around, eyes wide. "Ah, you and your deals."

"Tory," I said as seriously as I could muster.

"Mr. Whitley!" Her tone imitated mine.

"Let's not talk about him anymore tonight."

She sighed. "You’ve read my mind. I don’t want to think about any of it. But I can't make any promises."

I winked at her. "Leave it to me."

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