Page 21 of Holiday Hire

He points to the wall. "I'm glad you approve. The bathroom is next door, and the linen closet is in the hallway. I'll grab you a set of towels, but if you need fresh ones this week, help yourself."

"Okay."

He vanishes momentarily, only to reappear with a set of brown towels. He places them on the desk, spins back to face my direction, and fixes his gaze on me.

My butterflies erupt. I open my mouth and then shut it.

"Is there something you want to say?" he asks.

"No. I'm good."

"You sure? Because you opened your mouth, then shut it. So my instincts tell me you have something on your mind. Best if you spit it out, then I can answer any question you have," he gruffly informs.

I blurt out, "Did I hear you say you thought I was staying in your parents' house?"

He clenches his jaw, sighs, then admits, "Yes."

"Oh, sorry."

His eyes turn to slits. "You weren't surprised you'd be staying here instead of there?"

I shake my head. "No. Your mom showed me your house when I was here before."

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Figures."

For some reason, I feel bad for Alexander. I know he doesn't want me here, but it appears his family is calling the shots. Yet the vibe I get from him is that he's usually in full control. "I'm sorry you didn't know. I'll make sure I inform you about things that they might not tell you. Not that there will be more things...but if there are..."

He tenses.

His expression makes me nervous. It's as if he's debating whether to believe me or not.

"I will," I vow.

He slowly nods. "Thank you. That would be nice—especially about things concerning my sons or home."

"Understood. Ummm..." My pulse quickens.

"What is it?"

"Can I be blunt?"

"Haven't you been?"

"Have I?" I question, wondering if I've overstepped.

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

His stare intensifies until I feel like my cells are on fire. He asks, "Why are you sorry? I'm not a magician who can read minds. I prefer bluntness over games any day."

"That's good. I only play games with kids, or maybe on family game night." I nervously laugh.

He stays quiet, his leer pressing down on me.

I add, "So I won't play any games with you."

He grinds his molars, inhaling a deep breath of air.

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