“I told you, I’m not feeling well.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Maureen? Did one of your johns get rough with you? Do I need to crush someone’s skull?”
My lips curled into a reluctant smile at his words, gruff but caring. That was pretty much Jasper in a nutshell, and I hated that his words had the ability to affect me so much.
“Thank you, but no. I’m literally not feeling well. Sick.”
“Did you drink too much last night, or are you just looking for time off?”
I rolled my eyes. “Did I drink too much while I was working? In an Ashby company. I don’t think so. I’m sick to my stomach, Jasper, I’ve been puking and shitting all day if you want all the dirty details.”
“I don’t,” he growled. “What time are you coming in today?”
“I’m not.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to look for your replacement.” His gravelly voice didn’t scare me because this was the game we always played when I needed a day or two off work.
Today though, I wasn’t in the mood. “You do what you have to do, Jasper, but I’m not coming in today. You and Midnight Mass will be just fine without me.”
I ended the call before I said more on topics that were best left unsaid.
I knew Jasper cared about his businesses, all of them, hell he even cared about me in his own way, but when I was sick like this, his ruthlessness, his aloofness, only seemed like dickish behavior.
The things love will let you ignore.
With my entire day free, I curled up on the sofa with sparkling water, lemon, and salted potato chips, just in case the stomach sickness thought of returning. For hours I remained on my super plush sofa, under a blanket, sleeping on and off. As long as I didn’t move, I felt great. Wonderful.
The sun slowly sank behind the horizon, bathing my space in streaks of orange and pink before drenching it in perfect darkness. Other than a few trips to the bathroom, I stayed stock still on the sofa, listening to episode after episode of some cooking competition. It wasn’t how I would have normally wasted a day off work, especially a Saturday, but my body was in charge today, and I was just her bitch.
A knock sounded on the door, and I froze, looking around the room as if there was an intruder lurking in the dark corners. Slowly, I sat up on the sofa and looked around once again when the next round of knocking began. This was the Penthouse suite, and no one got up without a key or a call. Curiosity got the better of me, and I crept down the hall toward the door and looked through the peephole with a frown.
“Dell, what are you doing here?” I asked when I opened the door.
Dell was a guy I saw semi-regularly a few times a month. He was big and blonde with beautiful blue eyes, the perfect cornfed midwestern man complete with dimples and tight jeans. He was gorgeous, and he loved to fuck. More importantly, he loved to make me come, which was my favorite thing about him.
“Hey, babe. Happy to see me?”
Hell no. I wasn’t in the mood for company, even if by some stretch of the imagination, I was able to get my body fired up for a fuck.
“Dell, you should have called. How did you get up here, anyway?”
He shrugged. “Held the door open for the elderly couple at the end of the hall, and they were happy to let me ride with them to surprise my girl who I haven’t seen in weeks.”
I made a mental note to mention that to Jasper when I saw him again. “Clever.”
“I thought so.” Finally, Dell took in the look of me and damn near winced, but he covered the frown quickly enough that I wasn’t completely offended.
“Go get beautiful, doll. I’ll wait.” He winked, and the only thing missing was the obligatory smack on the ass.
I shook my head. “Not tonight, Dell. I’m not feeling well.” And he of course, didn’t notice.
White-blond brows dip into a petulant frown. “Come on, babe, where’s my good-time girl?”
His words and his tone pissed me off in equal parts. I knew exactly who I was and who guys like Dell saw when they looked at me, and I was fine with it.
Except when I wasn’t. I gripped the doorknob in my hand and squeezed it tight while I kept my emotions under control. Mostly.
“Sorry to say that your precious good-time girl is sick and puking her guts up, not that you even notice or give a damn.”
A frustrated groan escaped, and I let the door go, slamming it with as much force as I could muster, right in his gorgeous fucking face.
I wanted to cry. Hell, what I really wanted was to be pissed off at Dell, but I wasn’t. I was mad at myself. Dell was good-looking, well-built, and he had a great job, a legit job that didn’t keep him in town for too long. He was perfect because there was nothing between us but a good time, but today he didn’t feel all that fucking perfect.