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I'm tempted to tell her not to bother with the glass. I'll just take the entire bottle in order to get through tonight with Seven, but I don't need anyone else asking questions about how he and I are getting along. Sheridan is more than enough people to have to retell the harrowing tale of how I made a complete idiot of myself last night.
You'd think I'd be used to embarrassing myself in front of Seven, but then I find a whole new low.
Seeing him this morning was awkward after what happened between us last night. But worse than that, my belly flipped with excitement the second he walked through the kitchen archway to find Rita and me chatting.
"Follow me," she instructs, taking a sip of her own long-stem glass.
I follow her through the living room and into the kitchen. "I got so caught up in wanting to make sure that you're ok after everything that happened at Scallywag's and to thank you for everything you did to help us out, that I forgot to ask how Seven is as a host. Do you have everything you need next door? Is he being a gentleman?"
Is Seven being a gentleman?
Nothing about what that man can do in the bedroom would be considered gentlemanly, and my cheeks still warm at the thought of it.
She pulls another long-stem glass from the cabinet and then grabs the bottle of wine she has already opened.
"He's been more than fair and accommodating, especially considering the circumstances. I'd like to get out of his hair as soon as possible, but the hotels don't seem to have any vacancies at the moment and I can't seem to get a flight out any earlier than my original itinerary for next week since they need to book other passengers whose flights were canceled before mine."
I watch her as she uses a heavy hand to pour me a full glass.
God bless her.
"Why leave now anyway? You're here and the storm is long gone. Why not just finish out your trip? Seven said that you're here to write, so stay and write."
She sets the full glass in front of me and I pick it up to take a sip.
The wine is good, really good.
The full-body fragrance and the slight fruity undertones of this wine have my tongue begging for another taste.
"The living situation is less than ideal at the moment. I can't ask Seven to stay another week. I feel like I’ve outstayed my welcome as it is. The best option is a hotel room in Cancun, but I don't see that happening."
"Cancun? That's way too far from here. We'd never see you," she says. "Stay here with me. I have plenty of room."
"That's very kind of you, but I think Seven and I could use a little more space."
"Then take the apartment. The family who was staying with me just moved back to their house this morning. You are welcome to use that space if you'd like. You'll be a lot closer to us if you need anything."
It's no surprise to me that Rita would offer up her apartment. She has such a giving heart. But I can't ask her to let me stay in it for free for an entire week.
"I couldn't ask you to do that. Someone else who needs it more than me should use it."
"Oh, nonsense. If it keeps you close, it's the best option for everyone."
The best option for who?
I'm sure Seven would be more than happy for me to be as far away from him as possible.
"I can pay you for the rental at least. Just tell me what I owe for the week."
It's not as if I can't afford it. My author business is booming, and I still have most of my advance from this new series. Plus, I can write it off as a business expense.
Rita shakes her head.
"No need to pay. You're my guest and I don't need a dime."
I think for a second about what I could do to make the exchange feel more equal.
I really enjoyed bussing tables and being a part of a team again. It's been years since I worked as a server in college. It also kept my brain sharp and active while I worked through my storyline. I wouldn't mind having that creative flow moving again.
