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“Need some assistance?” someone says as they come rushing in. The redheaded butler.
“Can you make her a grilled cheese?” Jake asks.
I interject. “Oh, I can do it.”
“No need, madame,” the butler says, already fishing through the cabinets. He pulls out a stainless pan. “I know where everything’s at.”
The door behind me opens and shuts with a puff of cold air. Ruby’s manicured nails tap against the screen of her phone. “Frederick,” she says distractedly, still typing.
“Yes, madame,” he replies as he pulls things from the fridge.
“We’ll need you to help serve tomorrow after all.”
“Of course.”
As she walks further into the kitchen, Jake moves closer to the doorway leading into the next room, like two negative ends of a magnet.
He now has his phone out and is typing a message. “Hey, muffin? I’ll be right back. I need to make some more calls.”
I scowl at the thought. He’s going to leave me in here with Ruby and a Chippendale butler?
I stand. “But, pookie,” I say, with a menacing emphasis on pookie. I would almost laugh if I wasn’t so annoyed.
His head flips up, and he gives me a challenging smile. “It won’t be long,” he says with a wink, and then turns to leave. He then fires back. “See you in bed.”
My cheeks heat.
His footsteps echo into the far end of the house and I hear him say, “Rebecca? Hey, doll. Sorry it took me so long to call you back…” And then his words trail off into oblivion.
Ruby instantly looks to me, her dark bob swinging. She heard the same thing I did—him calling another woman doll. How would I react to that?
I pretend I didn’t hear it.
Rebecca could be someone on his racing team, right?
Then why am I having a hard time not scowling again?
I’d like another beer about now, but I don’t want to rummage through someone else’s fridge, and I also don’t want to ask for one.
Ruby sets her phone on the counter beside me and leans against the granite…quartz…whatever. “A beer, Frederick?”
He stops what he’s doing and gets her one, like her hands and feet are somehow broken. When he hands it to her, she makes a point for their hands to touch, and they share a moment.
I shift awkwardly in my seat and take my phone out of my pocket.
She pops the top on the edge of the counter and takes a sip, her focus turning back to me. “Never thought I’d see the day where my brother would settle for one girl.”
I look back up to her.
“Color me…” she says, taking another sip. “…intrigued.”
I don’t take the bait; I know better. But she continues anyway. “How he’s all of a sudden ready.” Which I’m guessing translates to, what is it about you that’s so special? Why now?
I’ve already squashed the pregnancy thing.
“I guess he just is.” It’s all I have to offer.
She eyes me and straightens. “Yeah, guess so.” She’s not totally buying it.
