Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)
Page 91
His laugh was like it wasn’t any big deal. “Noemi—”
“I’m serious. I’m not comfortable with it after all the money you’ve already spent on me.”
He stared at me like I was being silly. “But I want to do this.”
How could I explain my irrational logic? Joseph was wealthy and older than me, and I’d already opened the door to a slippery slope. First it was fancy trips, then artwork, maybe next it’d be jewelry. I’d never want a sugar daddy. “No, thank you. I’ve changed my mind, the proportions are wrong. That dresser’s really big.”
His gaze was skeptical. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. It’s a nice image, though.”
Joseph glanced at his watch. “All right. We should get going.”
We walked to the rental car but as we got close, he pulled to a stop.
“Fuck, I think I set the keys down at the counter when we got ice cream.”
We had to divide and conquer, and while I retraced our steps through the different stores in search of the keys, Joseph went to the ice cream shop. His text came through ten minutes later that he’d found them on the beach, where they’d fallen out of his pocket.
“That’s disappointing,” I said when we were seated in the car. “I was kind of hoping we didn’t have to go back to our real lives.”
He grinned. “Me, too.”
We’d been back two days before a nasty head cold hit me. Either I’d picked it up flying back, or the weather change had taken its toll on my sinuses. I couldn’t get out of bed, and slept through class for the first time in years, but I was too miserable to care.
It was late afternoon when I sent a text to Joseph.
I was torn. I wanted him, but the stronger part of me knew he needed to work. I’d gotten a solid week of his time, and now he was way behind with his businesses.
I laughed and the sound echoed in my empty apartment.
Thirty minutes later the front desk called to let me know Payton was on her way up, and I dragged my feet to the front door.
“Hi,” I croaked out.
Payton was as stunning as the first time I’d seen her. Her boots clicked across my entryway when she entered, a large, flat package wrapped in brown paper tucked under her arm.
“Sorry for, you know, this.” I gestured to my flannel pajama bottoms and sweatshirt that had seen better days.
“Are you fucking kidding? You’re fine. He said you were pretty sick.” She untucked the package. “Joseph told me this goes in the bedroom.”
I didn’t need to peel back the paper to know what was behind it. I followed her down the hall and was irritated and delighted at the same time. Payton laid it down on my bed, opened the thick paper, and revealed the framed picture I’d wanted to buy in Hawaii.
“Pretty,” she said.
“That asshole told me he lost the keys. He must have gone back and gotten it.”
“He bought you artwork.” She smiled. “Yeah, what an asshole.”
“I told him not to.”
Her expression was amused. “How’d that work out for you?”
I sank down on the bed and watched her prop the frame up against the wall. It wasn’t hung yet, but I could already tell the proportions were perfect.
“I love him,” I blurted out.
“Do you?” She asked it like she was curious. “You love all of him, even the not-great parts?”