Page 24 of The October Arrangement

Her eyes searched mine, and for some stupid reason, I cared whether she believed me.

“Okay. I accept your apology,” she said.

“That’s it?” I lifted my arms out to the side.

“What were you expecting?” Her brows furrowed. “A certificate? An award?”

“Maybe slightly more enthusiasm?” I spoke.

“You insulted my entire life twenty minutes ago.”

“Fair point.” I ran my hand through my hair. I turned and walked toward the door.

“Simon?” I stopped and looked back at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Bella.”

“You’re still an asshole, though.”

“There she is.” I winked and walked out of the room.

I went into my bedroom and shut the door, as one thought inside my head didn’t sit right with me. I’d gone to Bella’s room because I didn’t want her angry with me. What bothered me the most was how much I needed her not to be.

Chapter Twelve

Bella

The following morning, I walked into the kitchen and saw Simon sitting at the island, scrolling through his phone and drinking a cup of coffee, his clean, masculine, woodsy scent lingering in the air. The kind of scent that any sane woman couldn’t ignore. He was already dressed for work in a charcoal suit and white shirt, with a burgundy tie.

After everything that had happened last night, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Things between us weren’t bad. He apologized, and I accepted.

“Good morning,” he said, looking up from his phone.

“Morning.” I brewed a cup of coffee.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good. I was thinking last night about how I don’t have your phone number. You should probably give it to me in case I need to get a hold of you.” He tipped the mug to his lips.

“Yeah, sure.” I rattled off my number while he entered it into his phone.

“Thanks. I just sent you a text so you’ll have my number in case you need to get a hold of me.” He stood up, shoved his phone into his pocket, and placed his coffee cup in the dishwasher. “I have a meeting to get to.”

“This early?” I sipped my coffee.

“The client I’m meeting with is leaving for Japan this afternoon. Have a good day. And no pumpkin patches in my house.”

I rolled my eyes and didn’t say anything as he walked to the elevator. After I showered and got dressed, I grabbed my camera and turned his pristine glass coffee table into a fall explosion. Harold, the pumpkin, sat proudly in the middle, his bow tie perfectly straight. I’d spread a soft cream-colored knit throw beneath him, letting the corner hang off one side of the table. Around him were perfectly placed clusters of orange and deep red maple leaves, tiny white pumpkins, and a few sprigs of eucalyptus. Three amber glass candles sat at different heights behind him, and a ceramic fall mug sat on a stack of decorative fall books to the side. I took a step back and stared at the display, making sure nothing was missing.

“You are very handsome, Harold.” I crouched down in front of the table and lifted my camera, taking several shots. These were the kind of pictures that made you want to put on an oversized sweater and curl up with a blanket.

“You, Harold, are a natural.”

I heard the elevator ding, and I froze. Simon had left an hour ago. What the hell was he doing back?

“Simon, before you say anything, I can explain—” I stopped.