“I can go now.” Standing, I picked up my dessert plate.
Both Simon and Maddox said, “Leave it.”
They made me feel almost sheepish. “In stereo, even.”
“It’s what I get paid to do, Ms. Bernard.”
I almost corrected him, asking him to call me by my first name, but I didn’t know if he’d feel comfortable doing that in front of his boss. “Fine. Let me grab my coat and I’ll meet you by the back door.” I walked quickly toward the study, wanting to bypass both of these men wanting to hold the swinging door for me.
It was cold out, so even though I considered standing outside, I waited for Simon by the door. As we walked outside, he asked, “Would you like to write me your list on the way to your apartment? While you’re gathering your things, I can go shopping.”
“I can go shopping with you. It won’t take me long to get my stuff.”
“I won’t be long, either. There’s a store just a block or so from your apartment. Then you can take your time, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything.”
This was probably another one of those areas where I wasn’t allowed to help. Well, Maddox was in for a rude awakening if he thought I’d just dirty dishes all weekend long without cleaning up after myself.
If it were my own apartment, maybe.
Soon, Simon and I were making our way around the house and I saw Maddox at the door watching us. I felt a shiver charge down my spine as I wondered what he was thinking.
More than that, though, my mind wandered back to something he’d said over dessert. I took out a small notebook and pen from my purse so I could write a list for Simon, but I found it hard to concentrate. What was it Maddox had said? Something about appreciating plebian delights?
I couldn’t help but wonder if I was included in that description. Was I the S’more to his usual tiramisu and, if so, what did I need to do to protect myself?