I shrug.
“Is that why you didn’t want to come here last weekend?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Explain to me why?”
“When I’m here, I’m reminded of how much we don’t have in common.”
“And that bothers you?”
I nod shyly.
He frowns, as if trying to understand. “You’re the first woman who’s ever had a problem with my money.”
“It’s a turnoff to me.”
“Turnoff?” he splutters.
“I would prefer you to be poor, actually.” I smile, knowing how ridiculous that sounds.
He chuckles. “Well, that makes one of us.” He leads me into the kitchen, and I see a breakfast of bacon and eggs on sourdough bread with a side of avocado.
“Yum.” I smile as I take a seat.
“I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent breakfast chef.” He sits down beside me, looking very pleased with himself.
My smile fades, and I pick up my knife and fork. That’s because he cooks so many breakfasts.
Stop it.
I take my first mouthful. I wonder how many women have sat here just like this and eaten his cooking after having amazing sex all night.
For Christ’s sake, stop it.
“What are you doing today?” I ask to take my mind off my negative thoughts.
“Playing golf with my brothers this afternoon, and then I’ll probably have dinner with them and my parents. They go back to London this week sometime.” He sips his coffee. “You?”
I smile as I imagine the four of them playing golf. “I have to food shop. I’ll go for a walk and then write some bogus news stories.”
He stops eating. “You don’t have to work on the weekend, you know.”
“I know. I just like to be ahead of schedule in case something comes up.”
He nods and goes back to his breakfast. “Are you going out tonight?” he asks casually.
I’m not, but I don’t want him to think I’m at home pining over him. “Yes, I am.”
His eyes come to me, and his jaw ticks as if he’s angered. “Where are you going?”
“Out to dinner with Molly and Aaron.”
“Who’s Aaron?”
“My friend I work with, the one who sits next to me. He’s gay.”
“Oh.” He cuts into his toast, mollified for the moment.
I watch him for a moment as he eats in silence. “Would it bother you if I were going clubbing?”
He sips his coffee, stalling for his answer. “Well, if your performance from last weekend is anything to go by, yes, it would.”
I smile softly.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shrug; I like that it bothers him.
He rubs his hand up my bare thigh and leans over to kiss my cheek. “I’m not sharing you. I don’t want you dancing with anybody.”
I smile and rub my hands through his stubble as I look into his big blue eyes. “Good, then I won’t.”
An hour later, the limo pulls up in front of my apartment.
Jameson picks up my hand and kisses the back of it as his eyes hold mine. “Until Tuesday.”
I smile softly at the beautiful man in front of me. “Until Tuesday.”
I kiss him softly on the lips. The driver opens the car door, and I walk up to the front door of my building and turn and wave. The car waits for me to go inside and then pulls out slowly and drives down the street.
I exhale heavily as I anticipate spending the rest of my weekend alone.
Damn it, Tuesday is so far away.
I lie in a state of deep relaxation on my couch. Rebelling against Jameson, I did in fact order Uber Eats for one, and yes, I put the chain on my door, just in case.
My phone dances across the table, and the name Aaron lights up the screen.
“Hello.” I smirk. Damn, this man makes me laugh.
“Oh . . . my fuck,” he stammers. “I just hacked Paul’s email, and he’s meeting a guy at a club tonight.”
I sit up. “What?”
“Yes, and it gets worse.”
“How can it possibly?”
“He’s been on Grindr.”
“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” I gasp. “He’s on Grindr?”
“Yes, get dressed. We are going down there to bust a move.”
“What?” I shriek.
“You heard me. Put on something sexy. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“But . . .”
The phone clicks as he hangs up. Oh shit. Damn it, I don’t want to go out tonight.