Loyal’s heart thumped heavy in his chest as he made his way up to the second floor. The only thing Roxanna had said to him between their financial discussion and closing time had been a terse, “Good night,” before turning away from him to head up to the apartment alone.
That had been almost two hours ago. First he’d been pissed off she wouldn’t even listen to his sound advice. Then he replayed the conversation in his head a few times—or a dozen—and realized he could’ve been more tactful. And he should’ve backed off the moment her defenses shot up.
Now he’d be lucky if she opened the door.
After a deep breath, he knocked and waited, and when he saw a flicker of movement in the peep hole, he stood a little straighter while lifting a large bouquet of red, orange, and yellow roses from his side. It was an additional agonizing twenty-seven seconds before the door swung open.
Her flinty gaze went straight to the flowers. He swept his over her pinned up hair that was slightly damp at her nape, the plush white bath robe from his mom, and the rainbow-striped, fuzzy socks on her feet. When he looked up again, he saw her expression had softened some and the tightness in his chest eased—a little bit anyway.
“I’m sorry.” He got right to the point. “I get tunnel vision when I’m working, and obsessed with fixing the problem to the point where I’m so focused on the end goal I miss everything else. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I was only thinking of the people I’ve seen go out of business for stuff like that, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
She’d gone back to staring at the roses as he spoke, absorbing his words before releasing a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, too. I got defensive because it made me feel stupid for not knowing more about business stuff. The possibility that my previous accountant who is also a friend I trust may have taken advantage of me makes me feel like even more of an idiot.”
“Anyone can get taken advantage of. It doesn’t make you an idiot, it means you maybe trusted a little too much.”
“Great. I’m a gullible idiot.”
“You have a good heart.”
“I still feel like an idiot. I feel like people will look at me and think, ‘If you’re really psychic, shouldn’t you be able to spot something like this a mile away?’”
“Sounds like that’s what you think I think.”
“Don’t you?” she challenged. When he shook his head, she retorted, “Well, I do. Kind of. I mean, I should be able to sense a person’s intentions. And a lot of times I can, but sometimes…”
“Sometimes you can’t. And that’s okay. No one is perfect.”
“I should be able to tell these things when it matters,” she insisted a bit morosely.
Seeing as he was still standing in the hallway holding the roses, he extended them toward her. “Can you sense my intentions right now?”
She rolled her eyes and reached for the flowers. “Anyone could guess your intentions right now, Loyal.”
“But I’
m not asking to stay.”
“You’re not?”
He liked being able to surprise her. “No. I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry, and I’ll see you in the morning. That is, if you still want me to work on your stuff?”
“I do.”
Relief flowed through him. He smiled and stepped back before the desire to find out what she was or wasn’t wearing under her robe ruined all his noble intentions. He’d bet a million dollars it was nothing. “Then I’ll be here by nine. Good night.”
He made it down the stairs, outside, and was opening the door of his Land Rover when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to read the text.
Roxanna: Did you ask Asher what my favorite flowers were?
He slid into the driver’s seat as he replied: Yes. He immediately asked what I did to screw up already and wouldn’t answer me until I told him. I didn’t think that one through.
Roxanna: Of course he did, and no, you didn’t.
He closed his door as another one came through.
Roxanna: I didn’t say thank you. They’re beautiful.
He typed his reply, hesitated over the corny, cliché line, then hit send anyway: Not as beautiful as you.