Page 34 of The Broker

“What? Why?”

I chuckled. “Because she needs a ‘big, strong man’ to help her test out that new mattress.”

He paused. “Yeah, pass.”

“Dude, I’m telling you, she wants that D. You should have seen how disappointed she was when she found out you weren’t there.” Did he need more proof? “She wanted to wait for you, and she made you cookies—which by the way—taste fucking fantastic. They might be all gone by the time you get home.”

He laughed, and the sound of it was so nice, it did things to me. There was a longing for him that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“I’m calling it right now,” I said. “She’ll be back.”

He was probably just humoring me, but his voice was warm. “Okay.”

The conversation between us lapsed for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. A new thought hit me then.

“Hey, since I have you on the phone,” I said, “can we switch next week’s cleaning to Wednesday? One of my friends is getting married, and we’re supposed to go bridesmaid dress shopping on Tuesday afternoon. I don’t know how long it will take.”

“Sure, that’s no problem. I’ll make sure I’m out of the house on Wednesday.”

“Okay, thanks.” I said it in an overly cheerful way to mask my disappointment, and mentally kicked myself again for telling him I didn’t want him around while I was at his home.

Because after hearing his voice, it was pathetic how desperate I was to see him again.

I pulled into Noah’s driveway, put my car in park, and peered at his house. He typically parked in his garage, so there was no way for me to tell if he was home right now. I eyed the bucket of cleaning supplies sitting on my passenger seat as I considered my next step.

Driving over without texting first was a bold move on my part. I’d asked to change to Wednesday for this week, and it was Tuesday. My plans with the bride and the rest of the bridal party had fallen through. My friend Brianna had texted the group thismorning, telling us she was too sick to go dress shopping, and needed to reschedule.

So even though I knew there was a chance Noah wouldn’t want me to clean or that he might be home right now, I decided it was worth the risk.

In fact, I hoped he was. I wanted to see him again.

After I turned the car off, I scrolled through my recent messages until I found my conversation with him and my gaze scrolled over our last exchange.

Noah:You were right. Guess who just showed up at my house.

I’d sent back the GIF of Pikachu making a surprised face to tell him just how unsurprised I was.

Me:Another wrong delivery?

Noah:Yeah, but it won’t happen again. I made it clear I’m not interested.

Me:Oh, poor Judy. Can’t blame a girl for trying.

Me:Question tho. Did she bring any more cookies?

Noah:I saved some for you.

There was a bubble with a pink heart in the top corner of his text from where I’d liked his message, and I got flutters looking at it now. That stupid heart didn’t mean anything, and I didn’t want him to read into it, because he was supposed to be my employer and nothing more.

Yet our text messages felt so . . . friendly.

Keep it professional.I quickly thumbed out a message to him.

Me:Hey, my plans fell through and I’m in your area. Is it okay if I clean now?

I stared at the screen, waiting for the ‘delivered’ notification to change to ‘read’ with breath held. Usually, he was so quick to respond—but not this time. The status of the message didn’t change. As I sat in my car, I tried to peer through the windows, but I didn’t see any movement or lights on.

Time marched on, and my heart sank. Something had him too busy to check his phone, which meant he most likely wasn’t here.

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