“Let me work on your coffee for you,” Amelia says, taking what remains of the grinder from my hands.
I nod and place my hands on my head as I storm out of the kitchen.
I should go for a run. Or meditate. Or swim. Something healthy to get my pent up frustration out.
Instead, I go see Joel.
I’m not sure if it will help or make things worse, but I need to see him. I need answers to what happened last night.
Joel is one of my trusted men who lives in the house with me, so I don’t have to go far.
I walk to his door, letting my feet hit the floor roughly so he can hear me coming. When I knock, the sound is loud enough to wake the entire house up.
I can hear him moving in his bed, and then
his feet hit the floor as he runs to answer the door. He knows it’s me. He knows I have questions for him.
He opens the door without a shirt on. His hair is a disheveled mess, and a five o’clock shadow covers his face.
“Yes?” he asks as he grips the doorframe.
“What happened last night?”
He frowns. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”
My eyes scan his face, looking for the truth.
For the first time, I wish I had cameras in my bedroom so I could know for sure if he’s telling the truth.
“Did you do what I asked?”
Joel’s eyes linger behind me, and I realize that Liesel has woken up. Probably my knocking or the blunder with the coffee grinder jolted her into the morning.
I glare at Joel.
I don’t care that Liesel is standing behind us watching the exchange. I want to know what happened from his mouth because Lord knows I don’t trust a word out of Liesel’s.
“Yes,” he answers before closing the door.
I turn and glance at Liesel but don’t speak to her. She’s still wearing that damn robe, even though she can’t seem to keep it on her body all the time. She won’t ask for clothes, but I won’t survive her staying here a year without her completely covered in layers.
Liesel’s eyes follow me while I walk back to the kitchen.
“Amelia, get Liesel some clothes and make sure she’s wearing them by the time I get back.”
Amelia blushes with a knowing smile as Liesel enters the kitchen.
“Langston, can we—” Liesel starts.
“I’m taking the helicopter to the other side of the island. Don’t worry about lunch or dinner for me today, Amelia.”
Liesel’s mouth snaps shut. Finally, she understands I won’t be talking to her during the day. My only use for her is at night.
I walk away from Liesel before she has a chance to open her sassy mouth.
I’m grumpy, annoyed, and sex-deprived. And based on how Liesel is telling her stories, I know what story she’s going to tell next.
I’m terrified of her lying about the next part of her story.