Maid for Each Other(73)

“Can we not talk about this now?” I said, my voice low because I didn’t want anyone to overhear. “We can discuss it later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Roman said. “I’ve got some stuff I want to bounce off you, anyway.”

“Work?” I asked, wanting to shut him up about that, too. We did need to go over some things, but not around my family.

“Are you two talking work?” Abi asked as she walked up beside us.

“We are,” Roman said, giving her a smile that told me he genuinely liked her. “Your man is relentless. I’ve never met anyone so hell-bent on making sure their company’s making as much money as it possibly can.”

A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows and I wanted to smack him.

“Are you still eating, or are you ready to go?” I asked.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” she said. “And I’m sick of your dad trash-talking the Cubs, so let’s take off.”

My dad was a huge Cardinals fan, which made them sports enemies.

Of course, the fact that she loved baseball made him her biggest fan.

The drive home was just as fun as the drive there had been, and when we got to my apartment, something new happened.

I slept in my bed, with her, and it felt like all was right in the world.

And when she woke me up in the morning with her tongue on my neck, telling me I had to go to the airport in an hour, I suspected I would never want to return to this room if she wasn’t in it.

39

Roman at Benny’s

Abi

Going to work sucked a lot less when you woke up in a fabulous apartment.

There was just something about the billion-thread-count sheets, the shower that could fit four people, the enormous kitchen stocked with everything I could ever need to make a delicious breakfast; I did not hate starting my days at Declan’s.

But as amazing as those luxurious things were, the fact that it was Declan’s home was what I loved. Even though he was out of town, I could feel him in the details of the place.

The soap that smelled like him in the shower, the orange juice he loved in the refrigerator, the random pair of his glasses that were sitting on the end table.

Lauren texted just as I was putting away the orange juice and cleaning up the kitchen.

Call me—I think I’ve got something on the Roman/Declan business （nothing bad don’t worry）。

I deleted the message and put my phone away. I totally regretted snooping and felt like trash about it, because I definitely didn’t have any doubts about his business dealings anymore. Whatever she’d found was confirmation that they were on the up-and-up, and I didn’t need to spend an hour texting her about that.

I’d much rather pretend I’d never snooped.

That way I wouldn’t have to feel guilty.

The sun was coming up when I pulled his car （he’d insisted） out of the garage, the city waking up in the way only downtowns came to life, and every cell in my body was infused with happiness.

I hit ninety-five on the freeway while cranking the Cult, so I was buzzing with adrenaline when I got to work. I was in the most ridiculously good mood as I rang up groceries, humming under my breath to the terrible piped-in music that played on repeat in the store.

I wasn’t even annoyed by all the snooty people who didn’t care to say thank you or answer my questions when I asked if they brought a bag or if they wanted to use a box. I spent the entire morning very nearly whistling while I worked, pretty sure nothing could ruin my good mood.

But then something did.

Because after lunch, when I was back at the register, I was met with a man who looked familiar. He was buying supplements, which was normal; a lot of health-conscious people bought their supplements at Benny’s because we had such a big supply.

“Abi!” the guy said, smiling. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

I realized it was Roman, Declan’s friend.

“Hey, how are you?” I said, surprised to see him. I instantly felt wary, seeing someone from Dex’s life at my real job, but I pushed that feeling away as I remembered Roman knew about our scheme.

“I didn’t realize Benny’s was the grocery store where Dex found you,” he said around a grin. “It’s my favorite.”

“Nice,” I said, sliding his electrolyte caps over the scanner.

“Did he tell you that I’m the one who convinced him to bring you to the cocktail party?”

“You were?” I said, grinning as I manually punched in the barcode for the chia energy gels. For some reason, they never rang up right.

“Yes, ma’am. I was the genius behind the Abi plot.”

“？‘The Abi plot,’？” I repeated, not liking the sound of that, but it was what it was. “I guess I’d assumed it was all his idea.”

“God, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Think about it—Dex? Does he really seem like he’d engineer a let’s-just-see-what-happens kind of plan?”

I laughed, because he was so right. “Yeah, no—you’re right. He would never.”

“He was pissed and ready to just get you fired until I suggested he borrow you for the shareholder weekend.”

“Well, then, thank you,” I said, surprised how much I genuinely liked Dex’s friend. The fact that he seemed obsessed with work and making money, calling Dex at all hours of the night, should’ve made me dislike him on sight, but he was impossible not to like.