Page 20 of Stay Here Tonight
Lydia had been prepared to say something testy before hearing what went on in the conference room. Now? She had no idea.
“Hey…”
Maxine slowly turned. Her demeanor suggested that she was not in the mood.
“Sorry. About what the papers are saying.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t think there was any truth to it.”
Maxine took another step toward the door. She stopped again.
“Sorry about Saturday night. I don’t do sleepovers.” Her head tilted up in thought. “I had fun, for what it’s worth.”
Why did that make Lydia smile? She only validated the rich woman’s behavior. “Me too. Although, as a slight suggestion, you might make the no sleepover thing a little more upfront with the next girl.”
“I’ll take that to heart.” Maxine showed herself out. The setting California sun washed her out, creating the illusion that she disappeared into the glares of cars and floor-to-ceiling windows.
Chapter 8
“I love you,” Maxine said to her reflection. When that didn’t inspire her any, she changed both her expression and tone. “Iloveyou.” No, that guttural growl was as silly. She toned it down to a soft purr. “I love you. Forever.”
That one almost got to her.
“Whatever.” She finished wiping off the foggy mirror and shook out her crimson bathrobe around her naked body. “This is so stupid.”
Her therapist had suggested she practice sayingI love youas if she were talking to a new girlfriend.“Imagine you’re ready to move on and you’re dating someone new. Someone special. This will be your first time telling a woman that you love her. Since your divorce, anyway. Start practicing now, and your mind will be open to the experience happening in the first place.”
Sounded like a bunch of bullshit, but when Maxine paid her therapist as much as she did, she was inclined to at leasttrythe suggestions.
Inclined, but not convinced.
She walked into her bedroom and surveyed the bright morning scenery. The only person to have stepped into her room since her night with Lydia was Agnes, who now flitted about making the bed, dusting the furniture, and staring at the windows with a critical gaze. While Maxine enjoyed the view, Agnes muttered over spots and whether or not the window washers were worth the big bucks they charged.
“By the way,” she said to her employer after a few more seconds, “I took the liberty of removing that box like you requested.”
“Thank you.” The box in question was whatever old belongings Penelope decided not to take with her. They included out-of-date hygiene products, books and magazines, and a few photographs. Candid ones of her and Maxine over the months and years. “Quick, even for you.”
“We don’t need that crap around here.” Agnes crossed her arms with a huff. “So we’re going to do things the old-fashioned way, ma’am.” She pointed to the grounds beyond the balcony. “We’re already set up for a permitted bonfire.”
“Excuse me?” Maxine didn’t know whether to laugh or reprimand her maid for going a littletooabove and beyond. “When did you arrange something like that?”
“With your connections? An hour ago.”
“Damn. I should fire you as my maid and hire you as my personal assistant.”
“I can type 100 words per minute, ma’am.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Any coffee around here?”
“I’ll bring it out there. Carlos wants to get this fire roaring before midday comes.”
“The gardener?”
“Think he might be a bit of a pyro. He wasreallyinterested in what I was doing.”
“I think you two are flirting. He likes you.”
