Page 38 of My Wife
“I didn’t ask for a PA.”
I stop short of rolling my eyes. “What are the rest of your rules, Mr. Ellis?”
A normal person would insist I call him by his first name. Liam does not. He’d also call me by my preferred name, Jess. Also, Liam does not. Perhaps I should’ve withheld my excitement until we’re on sure footing. Taking a deep breath, I give it a five-minute break.
He says, “You may not go in my personal space.”
“Gladly.”
His lip lifts slightly, spotlighting the scar. “You may not go on my phone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You won’t discuss my private matters with friends, family, or anyone.”
“My lips are sealed.” I half expect a non-disclosure agreement to appear out of thin air.
He’s holding up all five of his very large fingers, covered in callouses. “Under no circumstances will you wear my jersey.”
I frown. “What on earth would possess me to do that?”
“You’re the witch bride, you tell me. Maybe some kind of voodoo.” His eyebrow arches.
I wrinkle my nose, not wanting to think about my ill-conceived early morning arrival in town still wearing my wedding gown. “I am nothing of the sort. My garment was a result of a poor decision.”
“Do you make many of those?” His smile is tighter than a violin string, which plays sadly in the background of my mind because, just like everything else in my life, this isn’t going to last.
“We shall see, won’t we?”
“Also, don’t smile so often. It’s too much. You’re aggressively positive and optimistic.” He squints as if fighting the glare.
Like a reflex, a grin rises onto my lips as I eye the cookies because I could go for one. Thankfully, Grandma Dolly will have some waiting with milk when I get home. She’d flash the sign for a flower—her way of reminding me to keep my chin up like a buttercup. Resolve rushes at me like a lioness roaring back at the king of the jungle.
My wedding was my last failure. I’m going to be the best personal assistant in the state and show this meanie what I’m made of—determination, enthusiasm, and Bundt cake.
While Grandma Dolly makes great cookies, on my first birthday we spent together, she made a Bundt cake just for me. It was the first time I’d gotten one on my birthday. She topped it with sixteen candles, which managed to stand up long enough for me to make a wish for my own family someday and then blow them out. We were dying with laughter. It’s one of my best memories. And I’ve been obsessed with Bundts ever since. They’re just so adorable and versatile.
Liam drags his gaze over me. I’m not sure whether my cheeks flush because of the intensity in his eyes or because I’m afraid I have poppy seeds in my teeth. Plagued by insomnia in the wee hours, I tested out a lemon poppyseed Bundt cake recipe and had a bite for breakfast.
After draining his coffee cup, Liam says, “We will communicate by text only.”
“That sounds like rule number six.”
“It’s part of our operating agreement. I’ll have my lawyer draft it, but I want to set the foundation now so you know what to expect.”
“And what’s that?”
“A purely professional relationship for a limited amount of time. I suggest you start looking for another job, so you can have it lined up, Jessica.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Because for once, I’m going to succeed.
Watch out world and the beasts that inhabit it, Jess Fuller isn’t going anywhere! Well, except eventually for brighter pastures because the winter in Nebraska is no joke. I don’t really want to stick around Cobbiton for longer than a few months. Six at most. But Liam doesn’t need to know that. I’ll make him think he’s stuck with me forever.
Maybe I am a witch bride because the notion of tormenting him with mytoo much smilemakes me cackle inside.
He grunts.
I flash a pageant-worthy grin his way because I can’t resist fighting grump with a blast of sunshine. Call me crazy, but I’m determined to wake a glimmer of joy inside the sleeping giant.
