As we ate, I told him a few waitressing horror stories, and he shared some details of what happens on a movie set. Turns out, the whole thing wasn't nearly as glamorous as I thought.
His stories were a lot more interesting than mine, but I had to give him credit. He at leastpretendedto listen to me, which was an improvement over our rocky start.
As we finished breakfast, I felt compelled to say, "Hey, can I ask you something? Is there a reason we're not going anywhere?"
From the other side of the table, he said, "Like where?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just out, I guess."
When he made no reply, I added, "I mean, we're into the second month."
"So?"
I forced a smile. "So I'll be leaving before you know it."
He didn't smile back. "Want some advice?"
Did I?Based on his tone, I wasn't so sure. Still, I nodded anyway.
"Enjoy the break," he said, getting to his feet. "Leave the dishes. The cleaning people are on the way."
I stared up at him. "But wait. You can't just leave."
"Why not?"
"Because you didn't answer my question, not really. I mean, there has to besomereason we're hiding out here alone."
His mouth tightened. "If you wanna go someplace, go. You're my employee, not my prisoner." And with that, he turned away for good.
His words stung, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. When I'd arrived several weeks ago, I'd actuallyfeltlike a prisoner, even if Iwasbeing paid for my incarceration.
Now, I wasn't even sure that I felt like an employee.
What Ididfeel like, I had no idea.
But somehow things felt different.A lot different.
As for his house, the exterior was looking different, too. During this past week, workers had finally finished the brick wall that surrounded his yard.
The final additions were two iron gates – a narrow one out back, along with a much larger one that blocked unauthorized access to the driveway. I'd driven through that gate only a couple of times, mostly because I'd been sticking so close to the house.
Maybe I should've felt stir-crazy, but the truth was, spending time with Flynn was proving to be a lot more fun than I'd ever thought possible.
We watched movies in his media room with pizza and popcorn. We sat on his back porch, watching the wind rustle through the trees. We'd even taken to watching baseball together even though we rooted for different teams.
Now, after his sudden departure from breakfast, I sat at the kitchen table for a long moment, wondering what exactly was going on.
Was he tired of having me around?
Or was he worried that I couldn’t live up to my end of the deal?The theory wasn'tthatfar-fetched. After all, our last outing had been a total disaster even before that fiasco in his back seat.
More confused than ever, I decided that I'd be smart to get away, if only for a few hours. So I dashed upstairs, threw on a little sundress, and drove away in the car that he'd provided.
Twenty minutes later, I was at the apartment, the one I shared with my mom and Becka. I'd been there for less than five minutes when I realized that the trip had been a sorry mistake.
