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“I…okay,” I said, unsure what else I was supposed to say.
As he moved forward, I backed up toward the door to step out into the chilly evening air. Shane was right behind me, and I noticed he locked the door before turning to walk across the small path leading toward the house.
“If she hasn’t eviscerated me and hidden the body, perhaps I’ll see you later,” he told me before disappearing into the house.
“Uh yeah, sure,” I said, only realizing what I’d agreed to after he was gone.
* * *
It was well after midnight, almost one, and I sat back to listen to the silence of the house. At this time of night, the only people left were me and Sophia. I had stayed in the kitchen after separating from Shane, the furthest I thought I could be from Sophia’s bedroom without having to go outside. As curious as I was about what she wanted to talk to her son about, I wasn’t so nosy that I was going to eavesdrop, even accidentally.
After a couple of months of working for Sophia, I had grown to enjoy the quiet that descended on the house at night. As much as I loved going out and socializing, I had always found it necessary to have time to myself. With only a security guard on the property to make three people, four if Shane was ‘lurking’ somewhere, I found all the time I needed to simply enjoy…whatever I wanted.
A soft scuff brought my head up, and I saw Shane standing in the doorway leading to the main hall. He was dressed in the slacks and button-up I’d seen him in earlier, though he’d undone the top three buttons and rolled up his sleeves. “I see you’re hard at work.”
“When I started this job, I usually did whatever I could to fill the time. I never wanted to look like I wasn’t doing something,” I said, leaning back in my seat and pausing the video I’d been quietly watching. “But the thing is unless you’re working in a group setting or with a patient who needs constant watching, there isn’t enough to do in a long shift. The first thing I learned was that it’s okay to just…do nothing. So long as you do what needs to be done and the patient isn’t neglected.”
“Work hard, play hard,” he said with a chuckle, going to a nearby cabinet. He retrieved a bottle and poured a drink for himself. Pulling out another glass, he wiggled at me, but I shook my head.
“I don’t play that hard, especially while working,” I told him.
“I suppose, for the man who’s looking after my mother’s health, that should be a good thing.”
“But you still find it disappointing.”
“Only a little,” he admitted, taking the measure of alcohol he’d poured and downing it with a quick flick of his wrist. “Some prefer play over work, and others prefer work over play. You’ve found a way to balance the two in your life to make you both happy and fulfilled.”
“Am I?” I asked, cocking my head.
“What?”
“Happy and fulfilled.”
He stopped, looked me over, and grunted. “Yes.”
“Interesting,” I said, snorting when he smirked at me.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re not, in fact, happy and fulfilled?” he asked me curiously.
“Maybe I’m just taking a stroll in your shoes for a minute and wondering just what goes on in that head of yours,” I said, closing my laptop. I could sense he wasn’t dropping in for a casual chat before leaving. Considering he was behaving like a normal person, I would at least give him my full attention. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to wear them any longer.”
“That’s a pity. I like seeing other people in my clothes. I think I’d like seeing you in them even more,” he said with a chuckle.
I sighed. “First of all, our size difference isn’t that pronounced. Secondly, it took you just shy of five minutes to go back to being an ass. I suppose that’s a record.”
“Watching your face when I do that is just too interesting,” he told me, pouring another measure. From the way he was acting, I didn’t think he’d been drinking before this, and even now, his drinks were, at best, a shot apiece.
“You haven’t been speaking to your mother this whole time, have you?” I asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Even she can’t take over five hours to read someone the riot act.”
“No, I haven’t. My mother isn’t one to mince words, and she’s not one to waste words on an overly long conversation,” he told me with a chuckle, this time sipping the liquor gently. “You should have been there when she explained sex to me.”
“Somehow I picture her bringing in some sort of expert to take care of it for her,” I said, raising a brow.
“If only,” he snorted. “No, she felt that was one part of our education she should handle on her own. It’s a miracle that event didn’t put me off sex for the rest of my life.”
“Perhaps that’s why you’re such a sex hound,” I told him with a chuckle.
“Hound,” he repeated with a roll of his eyes. “Though I suppose that’s far better than pig.”
