Page 118 of Maid For Each Other
“I would,” she whispered, “except that I found a recent social media post from one of the people on that email, Camille Johnson. She posted that RestWell gave her the $76K that she needed to pay for her son’s cancer medications—the exact amount listed on that email message.”
I gasped. “Oh, my God.”
“Right?”
“So you’re telling me that Dex and Roman—”
“Don’t you dare say it out loud!” she whisper-yelled, looking at me like I was ridiculous. “Have a little respect for the lore, will you?”
I stared into the mirror above the sink and tried to wrap my head around how wrong I might’ve been about him. If this were true, he wasn’t a rich guy who gave things away because he didn’t care about them.
If this were true, he was a rich guy who cared enough to give them all away.
46
Finally
Declan
I stopped pacing when I heard the key in the door.
I turned, and there was Abi.
And a brunette.
Who was grinning from ear to ear.
I tried reading Abi’s face, but I had no idea what was going on there. She no longer looked mad, sad, and closed off. No, she looked…mysterious. Like she wastryingto be mysterious.
“This is my friend Lauren,” Abi said, pointing to the only other person in the room.
“Hi,” the woman said, smiling so widely that it was almost alarming. She looked fucking insanely happy to see me. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” I said, glad that Abi’s friend didn’t seem to hate me.
But I felt like something was going on, like some sort of gotcha was underfoot.
“Where’s Roman?” Abi asked, looking around me.
“In my office,” I said, a little annoyed by all the extra company. I just needed to talk to Abi alone, damn it. “Why?”
“Roman,” she yelled, and I really hated not knowing what was going on. I felt like I had zero control of this situation.
The office door opened and Roman walked out, carrying one of the finished bouquets that I’d told him not to bother with because it was too fucking late to pull off that romantic gesture. “Yes, Abi?”
“Can you keep—”
She stopped talking, her eyes on the bouquet of hydrangeas.
Holy shit, Roman did a great job.
“Are those…inhalers?” Lauren asked, looking at the flowers through squinted eyes, like she was seeing something offensive.
“And EpiPens,” Roman said, grinning like it’d been his idea. “Perfectly placed by yours truly among these lovely hypoallergenic hydrangeas.”
“You’re kidding me,” Lauren said.
“There are three more bouquets just like it in the office,” he said proudly, the little shit. “Romantic as fuck, am I right?”
