Page 49 of Tender Offer
While that’s true, I’m here for a job, not for love.
I repeated that mantra on the ride to the airport, on the plane, and en route to my temporary home. Preston had his assistant coordinate my travel, which included Jesse, his driver, to escort me back to the very building where I put my slippers in sport mode. (It took Tammi twenty minutes to stop cackling when I told her about my Tom Cruise sprint down the hallway. She was one giggle away from me hanging up.)
When Preston said I’d be somewhere close, I didn’t think he meant the other penthouse on the same floor.
I follow a yellow brick road of honey-colored hardwood from the living area past the kitchen. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Beyond a door is a large room that floats in the sky.
“And your silly self wanted to stay home. Look at this!” Tammi’s scream is so loud I pull the phone away from my face to rescue my eardrums. All of London hears her hollering. “Stop being a lazy host and show me around,” she huffs with wide eyes and a big mouth that’s on the verge of drooling.
The entire wall is glass, with drapes that are two Shaqs high. A king-size bed faces the city. There are overhead lights, simple nightstands on either side, and a reading chair in the corner.
I gasp.
“What is it?”
Tammi repeats the question until I pan the camera to an open closet of shelves and hanging rods filled with clothing and accessories. They’re all my favorite brands.
Light reflects off the curated inventory like a diamond. Dresses, skirts, pants, and tops are all carefully placed on satin hangers.
“I only brought two suitcases with me,” I say.
There’s a folded card on a shelf with my name in cursive.
“Read it!” Tammi’s round face holds the biggest grin. She tips her travel coffee mug at the camera, motioning for me to get on with it.
I flip the view back to me and raise a brow. “Did you take Ellis to school while you’re in my business?”
It’s 8:20 a.m. back home. Tammi already made three school stops and daycare drop-offs. The look she gives me tells me not to question her.
“I’m in the grocery store parking lot with a laundry list of things to do—laundry included. This is the first moment of silence I’ve had all day. The only gift waiting for me at home is the chance to pee without a child clawing at the door. Open. The. Damn. Card.”
“Alright,” I say. It’s pointless to argue with a tired mother.
“Flip the camera back so I can see.”
Puff,
I took the liberty of securing a wardrobe to ensure your comfort here in London. Thank you again for coming. It means more than you know.
Yours,
Preston
“Should we send for the rest of your things, or will you buy everything new once you marry this man?” My attempt at a glare activates Tammi’s belly laugh. Her cheeks tint red as her breath skates across the screen.
Detroit winters will never be my testimony.
I flip the camera on the way out of the bedroom. “No one is getting married. Where is your spirited lecture about chastity belts and joining a convent? Dating is a bad idea right now.”
“First, I’m not Catholic, and I’m pretty sure nobody is walking this earth in an iron diaper,” Tammi says. “Second, I agreed with you taking a break from dating before I knew Preston was pursuing you. If he was coming like the others, keep him on read. The man is rolling out the red carpet and a literal penthouse. Why not consider something more if it feels right?”
“Because I make the wrong choices!” I gape at her like Tracee Ellis Ross to prove the point she’s missing.
“Make it make sense for me.”
I slide onto a barstool at the white marble island across from the kitchen with the grace of a jet-lagged traveler who’s questioning her life decisions. Handleless taupe cabinets glow in undercabinet lighting above a textured gray backsplash.
“This”—I motion around luxury I’ll never afford in this life or the next—“is unreal. I’m in London forthree monthsfor a man I loved fifteen years ago who reappeared out of thin air. How do I know I’m not making a mistake being here? I’ve been burned too many times to wear another scar.”
