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“I forgot, Cartwrights don’t have problems. It’s only the rest of us who are mortal.”
His jaw clenched, and he glanced over. “That’s a very Benson way of looking at the world.”
“I’m not the one who arrived in a piss-poor mood.”
He looked straight ahead without answering. His jaw ticked again, but he didn’t open up.
I took a stab at the issue. “Not have a good day at work?”
He drove on without any reaction.
Settling back into my seat, I resigned myself to the silent treatment.
Two blocks later he spoke. “No. Not a good day.”
I turned to him again. “Want to talk about it? I’m here to listen.”
He pulled up in front of my house. “Stay here.”
He hadn’t said please, which put the command in DA mode, so I stayed put.
After rounding the car, he looked both ways down the street before opening my door for me.
I took his hand as I climbed out. “Thank you.”
“You’re most vulnerable between the car and the house.”
The words were a reminder of the situation I’d gotten myself into—and that I was a job to him.
After entering, he had me wait by the entry as he went through his routine again of checking all the rooms for an intruder.
“All clear,” he said when he returned from upstairs.
Passing through the dining room, I dropped my heavy purse on the table and made my way to the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner?”
He opened the fridge. “Whatever.”
“Stop it,” I shot back.
“Stop what?”
I threw up my hands. “Thisnothing’s wrongroutine when you’re obviously pissed at something.”
“Itisnothing.”
“Right. This is the real you. The nice you is just an act. Be sure to bring him out when Yolanda comes home.” I turned and left for the dining room where I pulled out my phone. With the app, I ordered a personal size pepperoni pizza and a salad.
He was still in the kitchen, beer in hand, when I went upstairs to change. The business clothes came off. Yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and sandals completed the transition to relaxed. I paced back and forth a few times.
Why was I letting Adam’s fit get to me? He was only hired help after all—free hired help, to be more precise—a temporary interloper in my life to deal with the Ghost. What was the big deal? It didn’t matter in the cosmic scheme of things if he was happy, sad, or inconvenienced.
He was a big boy and could take care of himself. He didn’t need or want me fussing over him, or even appearing the least bit concerned about him.
I waited upstairs.
The jerk could stew in his own juices downstairs where I didn’t have to put up with his spoiled-child routine.
I clicked on the television and Judge Judy was in full swing. It would do to distract me while I waited for dinner. Judge Judy started interrogating the girl who had taken and wrecked her now-ex-boyfriend’s car.
