Page 64 of Maid For Each Other
Any emotion about Declan’s leaving was just silly and I needed to stop thinking about him and remember who I was and what the reality of our situation was.
But that was pretty impossible when, as soon as I got back to the apartment, I immediately got a text from him.
Dex:I’m bored. It’s ridiculous to get here 2 hours early when you have TSA pre-check. I got through security in 2 minutes and now I have 2 hours to kill.
I sat down on his sofa and replied:Aren’t you going to get drunk at the bar like all the other businessmen do?
Dex:I have no interest in drinking by myself at an airport. It seems too depressing.
I was about to text back with a joke but stopped mid-tap. We were done and I needed to cut this off.
So I tried; really, I did. I texted:I know we both had ulterior motives, but I had a surprisingly good time this weekend. Thank you for changing.
Dex:What do you mean “changing”?
I grinned and sent:You were kind of a dick the day I met you, but you’ve grown over the weekend. You have moments of delightfulness, actually.
Dex:I have never been described as delightful before.
I texted:I’m sure that’s true but I had a delightful time with you at the hangar.
Dex:I had an OK time ;)
I sent:I’m pretty sure it’s like Munchausen syndrome or something, the way I’ve grown to tolerate you after hating you so much.
Dex:(a) You never hated me, and (b) isn’t Munchausen’s when mothers poison their own children because they want medical attention?
I snorted because he was right. I texted:I meant the thing where hostages start to like their captors.
Dex:I knew that’s what you meant. Btw I left your check on the desk in the bedroom.
I walked into the bedroom and wanted to vomit when I saw the check sitting there, on top of the desk across from the bed. The symbolism of that made me feel like trash. Now that Ithought he was a decent person, the fact that he was paying me a small fortune for basically nothing felt super ick.
Like I was extorting him or something.
I’d realized at the hangar that I had a decision to make about that. I desperately wanted my student loans to be paid off, to be able to start fresh on my future without that hanging over my head, but I hadn’tearnedforty thousand dollars. I mean, I had barely earnedfortydollars, if I was being honest.
I’d slept in a fancy apartment and went to fancy outings wearing fancy clothing that I would never be able to afford in real life; how was that something I thought I could charge someone for?
I hadn’t come up with my definitive answer yet, but I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to cash that check.
I walked out of the bedroom and texted:That reminds me—I’ll leave your necklace on the kitchen counter when I head out on Friday.
Dex:Don’t. It’s yours.
I groaned and went into the kitchen, raising a hand to touch the chocolate diamonds that hadn’t left my neck since he’d bought me the necklace. How was I supposed to keep my wits about me when the man was giving me jewels? I couldnotkeep that gorgeous necklace that he’d so charmingly said reminded him of my freckles, which was why I’d already taken about a hundred pictures of it.
I texted:It most definitely is NOT mine. I saw the price tag. It was a great idea—Warren and the gang ate it up—but there’s no reason you should be stuck for that money.
Dex:I’m not going to return it so you might as well keep it.
The man was an absolute ghoul about money. A fifteen-thousand-dollar necklace that he was going to let sit in a drawer because he didn’t want to return it?
I texted:Save it and give it to someone else.
Dex:I’m not going to do that. It was fun, and if you like it you should have it and wear it.
I sighed and opened the fridge. Texted:You really don’t care about money at all, do you?
