She snorted.
I glared at her. “Have something on your mind?”
“How’s your car?”
I flashed my megawatt smile at her. As usual, it had no effect, and she continued to gaze at me impassively.
“It’s great. I drove it to a high school that was doing car washes. They emptied it out and washed it. Their school is getting a new set of bleachers, thanks to you. Well done.”
Her eyes widened.
Turning, I unwrapped my package, holding it up to admire it before I turned around and hung it on the wall.
“Perfect.”
The $90,000 draft was enclosed in glass and framed.
Behind me, Shelby’s mouth opened, and her Beaker noise escaped.
“You can’t leave that there.”
“I can.”
“It’s a waste.”
I shrugged and sat at my desk. “Then take it back.”
“No. It’s extravagant, Liam! It’s not needed!”
“I disagree.” I pointed to the frame. “And it’s staying there until I convince you otherwise.”
She glared at me and then turned on her heel and walked out of the room. “Enjoy your expensive art, Liam!” She stopped at the doorway. “You haven’t won.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Oh, you’ll be begging, all right.”
I snorted in amusement as she walked away. The flash in her eye and the heightened color on her cheeks were all I needed.
This wasn’t over.
I looked forward to what she had up her sleeve next. Whatever it was, I would enjoy it. She made my life brighter and brought joy to my days.
And I adored her.5LiamA few days later, I poked at my dinner in front of me. When Shelby had fired up the grill, I was sure she was cooking steak. I loved steak.
This looked suspiciously like chicken. Only kinda flat. And there was a large pile of salad on my plate. I preferred fries.
“Problem, Liam?”
“No. I just thought we were having steak, not chicken.”
Shelby’s voice was amused. “It’s not chicken. It’s swordfish.”
I took a bite of the dense flesh. “Kinda tastes like chicken.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
“Okay.” I chewed a few mouthfuls, actually enjoying the flavor, when a thought hit me and I paused, my fork partway to my mouth.
“What now?”
“Why are we having fish? That’s twice this week,” I asked suspiciously.
“I thought it would be a nice change.”
“I like steak.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” Shelby said calmly, continuing to eat her dinner.
“So, why are we having fish again?”
Shelby sighed.
“It’s healthy.”
I groaned. Shelby always made sure I ate healthily. She let me have my turkey sandwiches and the occasional In-N-Out burger, but she was constantly piling my plate with steamed vegetables and salad. She had me eating yogurt and drinking fruit smoothies. How much healthier could I get? She even monitored the baked goods I ate, only dishing them out on occasion.
I didn’t want to be any healthier.
“Are you watching your weight, Shelby?” I asked teasingly then froze when her head shot up, and I remembered all too late that a man should never ever bring up the weight issue with a woman. “Because you shouldn’t be. You’re perfect,” I mumbled quickly. “Just perfect. Just like you are.”
“Actually, I’m watching yours, Liam.”
My head snapped up. “Bloody…what?”
“You start filming in a month.”
“And?”
“You’ve, um, gained a little weight.”
“Haven’t.”
“Yes, you have. I know that during your downtime you’ve been eating badly and sitting more with all the lunch meetings. I thought I would help get you back on track.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Is this about the money, Shelby?” We were at a standstill over it—the draft still hung on my wall, and I knew she hated it. “Are you punishing me by starving me?”
“Starving you? Dramatic much?” She paused and snorted. “Oh wait…”
I crossed my arms and glared at her.
“No, Liam. This is about you being in shape for your next role. There’re a lot of action scenes in it, and I know you want to be ready.”
I stood, yanking my shirt over my head. “I’m not fat, Shelby!” I yelled, poking my side. “I’m lanky. You can count my ribs. I don’t need to eat fish and salad.” I glared at her, trying to ignore the fact that my voice sounded like a twelve-year-old girl screeching at the moment.
She regarded me coolly. “Pull your shirt down, Liam. I’m eating dinner.”
I huffed and did what she told me to do. Then sat, frowning.
“Your, ah, bottom rib is a little more prominent than usual when you sit,” she stated.
“Piss off,” I muttered, pushing away my plate.
“Eat your dinner.”
“Is there dessert?”
“Yes.”
Grudgingly, I picked up my fork, because really, the fish was good. I had yet to taste anything Shelby made that wasn’t delicious. And, even after Shelby telling me I was fat, I still loved having dinner with her. It was one of my favorite parts of having her live here. Sharing our day. Smiling. Joking. Being scolded. It was a huge change from when Marie was here. I used to eat in the den alone. Eating with her would not have been pleasant.