Page 53 of Flipping His Script
Chapter 21
Anna
From his open front doorway, Flynn said, "You're late."
I wanted to strangle him. Of course I was late. I'd had to pack up my stuff and explain the situation to my mom – well, as best I could without violating the secret terms of my agreement with Flynn.
Maybe it didn't matter. Lately, she'd been having a hard time understanding much of anything, mostly because she didn't want to. Then again, she'd always been good at ignoring anything remotely unpleasant.
Now, standing on Flynn's front porch, I dropped my suitcase and said, "Yeah, well you're late, too."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I've been standing out here for like ten minutes. Why didn't you answer the door?"
"Because you're gonna be living here," he said. "I figured you'd get the message and open it on your own."
Un-freaking-believable."So you didn't answer on purpose?"
Looking annoyingly unruffled, he said, "So you didn't use your key on purpose?"
"I don'thavea key."
"Oh yeah? You check the ring?"
"What ring?"
His gaze drifted to the little red sports car that I'd arrived in. The car belonged to Flynn, but it was mine to use – for the next four months, anyway. Cute or not, I didn't want to be driving it at all, but he'd insisted, telling me that no one would ever believe he'd let me drive, in his words, a "total shit-heap," if we were truly together.
In reply, I'd pointed out that technically, we were still just "old friends," so it shouldn’t matter what I was driving, not yet anyway. But he'd been insistent, telling me that I'd better get used to the car now while we were still flying under the radar, whateverthatmeant.
Now, under his steady gaze, I pulled out the keyring and gave it a quick look. Sure enough, there was an extra key that I hadn't noticed earlier.
I was still looking at it when Flynn said, "Yeah,thatring,thatkey." His voice hardened. "If you think I'm gonna be your butler, forget it."
I looked up. "Oh, please. Like I'd ever confuseyouwith a butler." Under my breath, I added, "Butlers actually have manners."
He gave a low scoff. "I guess you'd know, huh?"
"What?"
"So tell me," he said. "What was the name ofyourbutler? Jeeves?"
I almost laughed in his face. "I never had a butler."
"So just a maid then?" His mouth tightened. "A cook and housekeeper? A guy to mow the lawn and trim the hedges? Anyone else?"
My face warmed. Until Gordon's imprisonment, we actually did have a daily cleaning service. And a professional landscaper too. But it wasn't the way Flynn made it sound.
I gave him an annoyed look. "It's not like we had live-in servants, if that's what you're getting at."
"So you didn't wanna feed them? House them? Is that whatyou'regetting at?"
"That's not what I’m saying at all. I just mean, it wasn't like that."
He gave a tight shrug. "If you say so."
"Idosay so." And I meant it, too. The way Flynn talked, I could barely wipe my own butt. But the truth was, even when times were a whole lot better, I hadn't been free of chores – or worry, for that matter.
