Page 110 of Obeying Mr Kingsley

I shake my head and turn the TV on, and fall asleep, waking up just in time to start work.

Day twoPost-Mason: A new bed arrives, and the same delivery guys stare at my existing one.I nod.“Take it.”

I bite my nails as I take in the visibly high-quality bed with a gorgeous cream plush headboard and wonder what is going on.

I don’t want to phone him.

If I hear his voice, I’ll invite him over.

Then he’ll tell me to quit my job, and I’ll have to explain how poor I am and sleep with him...I can’t call.

Honestly, I could sell this damn stuff and earn more than I do at On The Rocks.But I’d never do that.

I don’t understand his motivation, but I was taught manners and to be grateful.Pulling out my phone, I take a selfie of myself lying on the bed, then send it to him.

You need to stop, but thank you.It’s almost the Five Seasons here now.

I lay staring at the ceiling and wondering why Mason would go to all this trouble.For someone who was accusing me of wanting him for his money, it’s absurd that he’s throwing it at me.

Sure, it’s no big deal for a billionaire to buy a couple of household items, but I’m suspicious.

Sleep well, beautiful.

Tonight is my night off, and I promised to go out with Terrance.I almost canceled but decided it could help me get my mind off Mason.

I was wrong.

I feel guilty the entire night, watching the clock and wishing it was someone else sitting across from me.Terrance is funny, but he doesn’t hold a torch to Mason.

By ten I tell him I have a migraine coming on, and he walks me home.

“I get the feeling you’re not as interested as I am,” he says as I pull away from our goodbye hug and avert my face so he can’t kiss me.

“I’m sorry.”I tug my jacket closed.“I have a lot going on.You are nice—”

“Not thenword.”He chuckles, then rubs my arm.“Take care of yourself, Lexi.”

I race upstairs, glad it’s over, and climb into my bed wishing Mason was with me.

If that was his plan, it worked.

My suspicion grows...but I’m still confused.

Day three: a Keurig coffee maker arrives.

Day four: a sixty-five-inch TV, which takes up half the apartment, arrives.

Day five: The thickest rug you’ve ever sunk your toes into is carried in by Dave—I’m getting to know them well.His wife is having a baby in three weeks.He rolls out the rug.

“Goes well with the sofa.”He nods.

“It does, doesn’t it?”I stand beside Dave, nodding along with him.

“Well,” he sighs.“See you tomorrow.”

“Yup,” I reply, more focused on what to do about Mason and this out-of-control gift-giving, knowing Dave will lock up behind him.

This has to stop.I swear Dave and Kelly will invite me to the baby’s christening at this point.