Page 19

I doze off and wake up to the sun shining in the bedroom. Not my bedroom. I’m in the Caribbean suite, tucked under a mound of covers. I don’t remember coming to bed, though. I thought I was on the couch. Actually, I thought it was all a dream. But I’m here, so I gather it was all real: my drinking, talking about my family to him like he’s a therapist, and passing out on the couch. My mouth feels like the Sahara.
I notice a full glass of water on the nightstand. There’s a note, too.
In case you’re thirsty when you wake up. You have the place to yourself. I left early to surf and then I’ll be hitting the gym. Take your time. No rush. R
What a disgrace.He must think that about me.Great first impression, Nova. Ugh.I sip the cold water—so good—and look at the other side of the bed. It’s neatly made, which means he didn’t sleep here. He must have taken the couch. I should run and never show my face to him again.
No rush, my ass. If I could blink myself to my room, I would. After chugging more water, I slowly rise. I’m still in my clothes. He probably didn’t know what to do with me and put me to bed like this. Had he changed me into something else, it would have made this even more awkward, especially because I don’t have the perfect body by any means. My curves are real and bountiful.
When I was with my dad the last couple of years before he died, I never worried about my appearance. It didn’t matter, and his side of the family is where I got my curves. I fit in, unlike here.
My shoes are near the nightstand. I put them on, grab the water, and race to the kitchen. I don’t know what time Riley left and how long he works out for, but I don’t want to be here when he returns. I stuff the glass into the dishwasher and notice all the pasta plates are in there, too. He did the dishes? Can I be a bigger inconvenience?
My eyes are wide and on every movement as I cross the pool deck to the lawn and landscaped trail that leads to the main house.Please don’t let me run into Riley. Please, please, please.
I have no idea what my face or hair looks like, and my breath is a mix of garlic and wine. I’d probably kill a plant if I opened my mouth.
I make it to the main house and enter through the open French doors to the great room. Gigi only closes them when the weather is bad or cold.
Inez appears out of nowhere. She gives me a once-over. “Where did you just come from?”
“Nowhere.”
“Where’s the pasta tray from last night and the dishes?”
“Uh…I brought them to Riley’s room.”
“And you just came from there?” She gives me another once-over.
“No. I was taking a morning walk.”
“In your clothes from last night?”
Whistling draws my attention. It sounds masculine. Could be the gardener or his son or Riley. I’m not sticking around to find out.
“I have to go.” I rush into the house.
Inez calls out, “Don’t forget your breakfast. I’ll have it ready soon.”
“Thank you.” I wave and keep going. I trip on the stairs but catch myself and hurry to my room, where it’s safe.