Page 62 of The Homemaker
Eight Years Earlier …
With my hearttightly lodged in my throat, bandaged hand hugged to my chest, and other hand poised to knock on Murphy’s door, I took a steadying breath.
After two soft taps and about ten seconds, he slowly opened it. The only thing he offered was a heartbreaking frown as he stood shirtless, shoulders curled inward.
“I don’t have a husband,” I whispered. Then I drew in a shaky breath to keep the tears at bay. “No kids. No dog.” My heart ached behind the bandaged hand on my chest. “I’m not terminally ill. But I …” I closed my eyes for a breath. “Iamreally fucking lost. And I’m not ready to be found. And I’m sorry that I can’t give you more.”
I stepped inside, toe-to-toe with him. When I lifted my chin to look into his eyes, he threaded all of his fingers through my hair.
“And I can’t stay. But I want to return.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Will you wait for me?”
He dipped his head, brushing his lips against mine. “I’ll wait,” he whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Murphy
Comparison kills confidence.
Not everything is about you.
“I’m flyingto New York tomorrow to meet with the contractor who’s doing my studio renovations. Dad’s loaning me his private jet. Come with me. We can watch the Macy’s Fourth of July fireworks. We can apartment shop too. Maybe see a show. Dinner. What do you think?” Blair massages my shoulders while I sit at the desk and work on a project.
“I think I’ve fallen behind and you should take your mom so I can get some work done.”
She stops massaging me and plops down on the bed. “All you do is work. It’s a holiday weekend.”
I laugh. “Itryto work. But it’s hard when everyone around me is not working. We’ll have lots of holidays to spend together.”
“I’m planning a wedding.Ourwedding. So don’t act like I’m not working.”
I sigh, leaning back in the desk chair and lacing my hands behind my head. “Yes. And you have time to do that because it’s your only job at the moment.”
“What do you think this trip to New York is for? Hello? It’s for my studio, which is where I’ll make and sell my art, which ismy job.”
“Bingo. You’re proving my point. Tomorrow, you have to fly to New York for your job, and I need to keep my ass planted to this chair to do mine.”
Blair pouts. It’s an adorable pout, but I can’t give in.
“Take your mom. She’ll be thrilled to spend a few days in New York with you. Watch fireworks. Take her apartment shopping. I’ll live absolutely anywhere you choose, as long as we can afford it.”
She sighs, staring out the window. “Fine. But you have to keep an eye on my dad.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, but yeah, I’ll check on him.”
“I mean …” Blair returns her gaze to me. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid with …” She widens her eyes like I’m supposed to finish that sentence.
He’s a fit guy in his fifties with an insane amount of money. The list of stupid things he could do is endless.
“Alice. Don’t let him get too cozy with thehomemaker.”
“I’ll keep him on a tight leash. Happy?”
“No.” She pushes off the bed and straddles my lap. Her expensive perfume that Vera bought her bleeds notes of rose and saffron. “I’d be happy if you were coming with me. My first love was from New York.”
