Page 31 of Crimson Love

And because it’s engrained in me to remember my manners no matter how scared I am, I say, “Thank you. This threw me for a loop. But I appreciate it.”

He pulls out his cell. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you mine. I need to return Winnie’s truck, visit the animals, and catch a ride back here. Then you can consider me your fulltime chauffeur until Clive fixes you up.”

I rattle off my number so fast, I’m surprised he catches it. But I don’t turn my phone on. I need to get back to my office and figure out how I’m going to get out of town without a car.

Maybe I’ll research how to hotwire a car. I doubt I’ll be able to find one with the keys in it.

“See you after work,” Jett calls, and I realize I started walking back to the building lost in my own dystopia.

“Oh, yeah.” I give him an exhausted wave. “See you later.”

He frowns.

I have no energy to worry about what that man thinks of me.

What started out as the best day ever has turned into the darkest ever.

Well, other than the other one.

CHAPTER NINE

SHORT STRAWS

Jett

F or fuck’s sake, Devon must be a slave driver. How late does Lennon work? I’ve been hanging out in the lobby for so long, I’m starting to get to know the guests. Ask me if I enjoy that, and the answer would be a big, fat fucking no.

Unlike the staff at the manor, I do not work in hospitality. Not that it was on my list, but I could cross off talking to people about my possible career changes. I’d escape to my room, but I’m not about to let Lennon sneak out. I was the one who created the drama with the stolen car, so I’ll make it my duty to cart her around wherever she needs to go.

Not that I have anything else to do. I’m also not about to admit to anyone else, or myself for that matter, that she’s the easiest distraction I’ve had to focus on in years.

Felicity left over an hour ago and assured me Lennon was still holed up in her office. There’s no way she got by me.

I’ve officially lost my patience.

I don’t ask permission from the front desk attendant and make my way through the door to the back offices. I’ve been back here a few times with Devon. His office door looks like it’s from the dark ages. I pass his office and head down the hall peeking into every space I come across until I stop at the end. The door is closed but the name plate tells me I’m in the right place.

I knock twice.

Nothing.

I try again, this time louder and times four. If she couldn’t get past me in the lobby, she sure as hell can’t escape me here.

When I get pure silence, I rap a few more times and demand, “Lennon, it’s Jett. Open up.”

She finally answers. “I’m working late. So busy.”

“Open the door.”

“I’m in focus mode.”

Focus mode. What the fuck is that?

“You’ve been in focus mode for hours. Let me in so we can talk about your car.”

“Unless my car is waiting in the parking lot for me, we have nothing to talk about. If it’s still in a million pieces at the Grease Me Up, I have no desire to talk to you.”

I pull in a deep breath, if for no other reason than I have no fucking idea how to deal with a woman I’ve pissed off. “Fine. I’m coming in.”