“With what? You said it yourself; you simply can’t afford Prescott Academy.”
“No, I mean with the mortgage.”
Chelsea lets a heavy sigh roll out. “Ah. In your defense, you were madly, deeply, blindly in love with the guy.”
“Too bad that wasn’t enough.”
An hour later, we are home. I carry Maisie to her room and tuck her into bed. She’s already sound asleep, lightly snoring by the time I head back downstairs to pour myself a cup of tea.Living here in my grandmother’s house has been a bittersweet experience.
This is my childhood home. I’ve been living here since I was about six years old. It still has the same color on the walls, albeit faded. The same hardwood floors throughout, but they creak a lot louder now. It still has most of the original furniture, too, but I’ve taken good care of it, so it’s still in good condition. It’s old but homey, quaint, and cozy.
God, I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. But I am hopeful. Whenever I talk to Chelsea, my spirits go back up. Maisie helps a lot, too. She’s so bright and positive, and making sure she’s got everything she needs keeps me focused on the good most days rather than the bad.
I pour myself a glass of wine and turn the TV on for a bit. I’ve got a twelve-hour shift coming up on Sunday at a prestigious cocktail lounge, and I intend to make the most of my free time until then. Next week will be packed, back to back, with a lot of evening events.
A knock on the door makes me sit up. My thoughts wither away like wisps in the wind. I check my phone, but there’s no message or missed call from Chelsea. I get up and walk over to the door, carefully looking through the peephole first.
“Archer?” I whisper, my mind suddenly blank as his unique eyes stare back at me.
How in the world did he find out where I live? And why is my hand already reaching for the doorknob? Too late. It’s open, and Archer stands in the doorway with wide, hopeful eyes and a subtle pout on his lips.
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour,” he says, and I raise my hand for the most burning question of all.
“How’d you know where to disturb me, exactly?”
“Well, funny story,” he smiles.
“I’m not yet amused. It had better be funny, or I will call the cops.”
Archer’s smile broadens. “Part of the work that my company does is for tracking software. We work closely with the police and federal agencies. All I had to do was run your phone number, which you willingly gave to Reed, by the way, through our software, and it gave me all the information I needed.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“It’s unethical what I’m doing here. I admit it, and I apologize for that, as well, but I have to do this. I have to apologize for my earlier behavior.”
I stare at him with sheer disbelief. My brain continues to fail me as I struggle to think of a proper comeback, but there is something about Archer and his brothers that doesn’t set off any red flags in my mind. There’s a warmth in his eyes, a look on his face that promises trust and safety. My instincts rarely fail me. Keith notwithstanding, obviously.
“You tracked me down so you could apologize? This couldn’t wait?”
“My humor, my temper… sometimes they get crossed,” he says. “And when I meet someone as challenging and as fascinating as you, I tend to lean into one or the other more. Reed says I drop my filter and speak my mind a little too freely.”
“I think Reed is a smart man,” I mutter. “He already apologized on your behalf, though.”
“Right, right, Mr. Goody two-shoes, always trying to clean up my mess,” Archer scoffs. “Disregard whatever he said, please, and allow me to apologize to you directly. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
The gentlemanly thing. Where on earth did this guy come from? Why haven’t I met anyone like him, or his brothers, for that matter, until now? I don’t know how to respond. I only know what my body is telling me, and the chemistry between us is sparking. I’ve never felt this way before. I’m equal parts confused and exhilarated.
“Thank you,” I say after a long and heavy pause. “I appreciate it. In fairness, my own smart mouth can get the better of me sometimes. I may have thrown some straws into that fire, for what it’s worth.”
Archer lights up, suddenly relieved, and I can see the golden specks flashing in his hazel eyes. “Great. So, we’re on for a coffee date tomorrow, then.”
“We’re what, now?”
“Coffee date. Tomorrow morning. Eight a.m. sharp. I’ll pick you up.”
“Wait, wait, I’m confused.”
He chuckles softly and leans forward just enough to make my heart skip a few beats. “I like it when you’re flustered; your cheeks burn hot pink. I’m going to think about this moment for a while. Have a lovely evening, Dakota. And don’t worry; your personal details are safe with us. We’re pillars of the San Francommunity.”