And yet, the image lingered. She was naked. He was naked. Cripes, even the imaginary bellhop was naked, because hey, as long as my imagination was running wild, I might as well go full-weirdo, right?
Stupidly, I still hadn't answered his question.What was wrong?I rubbed at my eyes. "Nothing."
"You're lying."
My grip tightened on the phone. This was just like him – Mister Blunt, even when calling from the beach – or wherever he was.
But it wasn'thimI was frustrated with. Mostly, I was frustrated with myself. Somehow, I'd let him get under my skin. And if that weren't bad enough, I was doing a sorry job of hiding it.
But then again, I'd never been great at hiding my feelings, even now, when I didn't know what exactly those feelings were.
But there was no way I'd admit any of this because, for one thing, he wouldn’t want to hear it. "Everything's fine," I lied. "Were you calling about the appointments?"
"What appointments?"
"The ones you canceled, on your calendar, I mean."
"Fuck the appointments."
No. Fuck Morgan. And fuck you.
Damn it.Why was I so bothered? It made no sense. I didn't even like him.
Really, I didn't.
When I made no reply, he said, "Tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"What's wrong."
I forced another smile. "Nothing."
"Alright," he said in a carefully controlled voice. "How about this? What's going on?"
"You mean here at the office?" I glanced around. "Nothing much. I rescheduled the appointments, and…" I hesitated. "Well, it's just me and Darla, so it's pretty…"
I bit my lip.Pretty what?
Weird?
Stressful?
Quiet?
Not hardly.Right on cue, a burst of laughter rang through the walls.
On the phone, Jaden asked, "Did you say Darla?"
"Yup. I sure did."
"And she's therenow?"
"Actually, she's been here all morning." I forced a smile so big, my face almost hurt. "Bright and early."
In a barely audible voice, he muttered, "Fuck."
I paused. "Excuse me?"