Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
In less than a minute, he responded. Nice jeans or other casual pants and a button down.
I smiled, then my heart nearly stopped when another text came through. It was a heart emoji. What the hell did that mean?
Did he love that I turned to him for fashion advice? Did he love that I was going to Mrs. Weeks knitting circle? Or did he….
No, I wasn’t going to go there. He was fond of me. He was attracted to me. I’d even go so far as to say, he respected my work, but more…. No way.
When the driver Mrs. Weeks had sent, dropped me off at her Upper West Side brownstone, my hands were shaking. I had a bag with a knitting project, one I hadn’t touched in a long time. She’d said she would be happy to give me a reminder lesson, but I hated that I wouldn’t be up to speed.
I expected a butler or some other employee to answer the door, but Mrs. Weeks answered it herself. She was wearing a linen dress that I assumed was one of the most casual things she owned. I felt like I matched her style perfectly, thanks to Miles.
She took my hands and rose on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
She led me to a room she called the lounge. I was certain it would have been called the drawing room in a historical novel. I was expecting all the other attendees to be older women, but I was wrong. Robert, the man who’d sat next to me at the gala, was there along with a few older women, and one woman who looked around my age. I wanted to know how Mrs. Weeks knew all these people and how she’d pulled them together.
The doorbell rang as she was making introductions. Robert took over for her. When she returned, the man following her was Miles’s friend and attorney, Ford Wainwright.
“Ford, do you already know Benjamin?”
“Of course.” He smiled at me, and I fought the urge to blush. What had Miles told him about me?
“Good.” She tapped an intercom button and asked for refreshments to be brought in. A few moments later, a woman in a basic gray dress brought in a tray with pots of what I assumed were tea and coffee, as well a large plate of cookies.”
“Will there be anything else?”
“No, that’s all for now.”
The woman inclined her head and left. Was I seriously here in a house where my hostess had domestic servants? How was it Mrs. Weeks seemed so down to earth?
I poured myself a cup of tea and placed a few ginger cookies on a plate. I was still nervous as I sat down, but once we started talking, I realized I was as comfortable with everyone else as I was with Mrs. Weeks and Robert. Somehow, the opulence didn’t bother me here like it had at the gala.
Ford ended up being the one to remind me how to do the basic stitches on my scarf, but he swore me to secrecy, since none of his friends knew he knit.
I enjoyed myself so much that when everyone started gathering their things to go home, I was shocked at how late it was. As everyone said their goodbyes and made their way to the door, Mrs. Weeks linked her arm with mine. “Do you have to rush off?”
I needed to get some sleep, but I shook my head. “No.”
“Good. I wanted to talk with you for a moment.”
“Is anything wrong?” I thought back over everything that happened that evening. Had I done something wrong? Had I offended her? She looked so serious.
“No, dear. Nothing is wrong. I had lunch with Miles today.”
“You did?” He hadn’t mentioned it, so I had assumed he’d come straight to the office from the airport.
“I wanted to talk to him about what happened at the gala.”
“Did you scold him for his behavior?”
“No, quite the opposite. I thanked him for taking out that bastard.”
I smiled and couldn’t help but laugh. “So you approve of him punching people at your fundraiser?”
“When it’s necessary.”
“So what happened that you needed to discuss with him?”
“Several things, but his being there with you was one of them.”
“Me?” I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going.
“Yes, you. I haven’t seen him look so happy with anyone in a very long time.”
“I really don’t think that you understand—”
She held it by hand. “Just listen. Miles is not the sort of man who’s going to easily make confessions or talk to you about how he feels.”
Heat rose in my cheeks until my face was burned. All I could think about were the things Miles had said to me earlier that day, things that had left me disheveled and barely able to stand. I remembered waking on his couch and sneaking out of work.