Page 44 of Maid in Heaven

“This is my treat this time. Consider it my penance forfalling asleep on you during the movie.”

“Blasphemy,” he joked. “Just kidding. It was actually quite adorable.”

Ava shiedaway from his sincere gaze.“Well, thank you.”

“It’s true. It’s also adorable how easily you getembarrassed. You’re blushing.”

“Would youstop?” She waved him away. “Big deal. I blush. I bet I could make you blush,too.”

“I’d love to see you try.” He leaned back. “Not much embarrasses me these days. Scrubbing floors in front of a bunch of women in nothing but a banana hammock desensitizes youa bit.”

“I’ll make those cheeks rosy. Just watch.”She grinned, wondering where her sudden brazen confidence had surfaced from. She secretly blamed it on the lace thong she had on, reserved for special occasions.

A waiter approached, his puff of curls bouncingatop his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and the odor of marijuanasaid he was at least ablunt deepinto his evening. “Welcome to Drexel’s. What can I get youtonight?”

Ava started. “I’ll have a—”

“Lemon drop martini?” Will grinned.

“You remembered?” Ava grinned.

“Onlythe important stuff.” He looked up at the young kid.“I’ll have an old-fashioned, please.”

“Got it.” The waiter jotted down, tucking the pen back into the curls behind his ear. He strolled away, leaving the faint air of weed in his wake.

“You know, this is the second bar you have taken me to in two dates. I think you have a problem,” Will teased.

“It’s just the first stop. I thought you might not be thrilled to be walking around out in the cold for our date. Figuredmaybe a little boozecould help keep us warm.”

“You know, alcoholthinsthe blood. It doesn’t actually raise your body temperature. It actually makes you more prone to hypothermia—”

“Wow. Someone is a know-it-all.”

“Learned that in my first year of nursing school.”Will chuckledand leaned back into the cushioned seat. The breadth of his shoulders and the tilt of his chin felt powerful. He took uphis entire side of the booth, stretching out his muscular arms.

“That was before my days as a man-maid.”

“Still feels weird calling you that.”

“People could call me achicken wranglerfor all Icare. A title is just a title. Ajob is just a job. It’s not anidentity.”

“I was embarrassed to tell people I was a Chief Revenue Officer. Mostly because nobody knew what it was.”

“Chief Revenue Officer,huh? Sounds,” he struggled for the right term,“I don’t know. Frankly, it sounds very boring.”

“Oh God, yes.So much red tape, paperwork, coordinating people…schmoozing clients I didn’t like. I wasn’t even acogin a machine. I was atine of a cogin a machine. Big title, big paycheck,bigresponsibility, lots of travel…and in the end,it meant nothing. None of it was as tangible as what you do. When you clean a room, you can stand back andseeyour efforts. You made something betterin this world, even if only temporarily. Mine was all theoretical. Just a ten-year blur of numbers and graphs.”

“That may be, but you got a beautiful house out of it.I’ve seen it.”

“True. And…it’s almost paid off. Fortunately,I have a nice little nest egg to fall back onas well. So I am in a good position to figure out what it is I reallywant to do.”

“Might I suggest being a maid?” He laughed. “It’s very fulfilling.”

“As you well know, I am not the clean type.”

“What?! You? Noooo,” he teased.

“Although that chicken wrangler thing you mentioned sounds like it could be fun.” She threw her cocktail napkin at him as the waiter came back with their drinks.

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