Page 17 of When I Found You

“Yes, please.” I sit down and open the containers. “Unless you think I shouldn’t. Rob did say I shouldn’t drink.”

“It’s been twenty-four hours. I think you’re good.” He grins. “One glass won’t kill you.”

A grin. Be still my damn heart. Who knew one simple action could make someone twenty times more attractive? I don’t know if I can resist him if he keeps revealing these little hidden treasures. I nod because I can’t trust the words to not come out of my mouth sounding like please take me to bed and ravish me now.

As I put food on our plates and he pours the wine, a silent awkwardness falls between us.

“Buon appetito.” He gestures, raising his glass.

I tap mine to his and sip the refreshing white wine. It has a delightful fruity taste, but I’m sure it’s not nearly as heady as Arthur’s mouth. I’m riveted by it as he sips his wine.

“Something wrong?” he asks, setting the glass aside.

“No.” I take a bite of lo mien and chew thoughtfully trying to desperately avoid fantasizing about my dad’s boss. “Oh, you got a phone call today.”

“Is that so?” He takes a bite of chicken.

“Yes. A woman called.”

Arthur set his fork aside. “Shit.” He leans his elbows on the table and exhales sharply. “I hope she wasn’t rude.”

“Well, she called me a hussy and a tramp. But I’ve been called worse.” I shrug.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I take another bite. “Your girlfriend?”

He scoffs. “Not really. We dated a few times. Social functions around town. But nothing serious.”

I laugh. “Well, she never got the memo.”

“What do you mean?”

“That woman thinks whatever you two have is the real deal.” I break it to him as honestly as I can. “I guarantee she was expecting you to put a ring on it.”

Arthur shakes his head and laughs. “A ring on what?”

I wag my left hand and point to my ring finger. “On this.”

His eyes narrow. “I guess I’ll have to clarify our agreement then it seems.”

“Is everything a business arrangement with you?” I ask, genuinely curious as to the innerworkings of his mind.

“Yes.” He replies without hesitation and takes another bite of food.

The wheels in my mind spin. “Then how about we make an arrangement?”

Arthur nearly chokes on his fried rice. “What?”

“An arrangement. Between you and me.”

Skepticism seems so natural on his expression. “What are you proposing?”

“I need a job and a place to stay.”

He grins and leans forward. “What’s in it for me?”

“I keep the bitch off your back.” I shrug. “Plus, I’m a whiz at Microsoft Office.”

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