She glances down at the mound of covers. Seth’s sleepy blue eyes stare back at her.
She sniffs. “I do not skulk, Seth.”
“Mind tellin’ me where you’re goin’, then?”
“To work.”
He grins a lazy grin. “Don’t suppose you wanna cook me breakfast first?”
“You’re a Neanderthal.”
Disentangling from his touch, she stands and slips on a flowered robe. Grabs her laptop off the dresser. Realizing she’s serious, Seth sits up and scowls. “No way. You’re stayin’ in bed today.”
In response, a flip of her hair. She exits the room.
She hears him scramble up. There’s a bang, a curse, and then he’s limping out of the bedroom.
Swiftly, she seats herself at the table, opening her laptop and depressing the ON button. “What time’s your flight?”
He grimaces, rubbing his knee. “Noon, but—”
She bangs loudly on the keyboard. “Great. That means you have about two hours before you leave. You should get there early. LAX has some great restaurants.”
She clicks between an email from Prentiss and the run of show schedule. Her saving grace is she’s lucky. Lucky she’s mostly needed for phone calls. Lucky she has interns she can boss around. If she can get through the next two days working from home, she’ll be healed up by Saturday in time to be on the ground the day of the party.
Easy.
It’s all easy.
Seth stands extremely still, as if he’s having some kind of internal fight. Finally, he lifts his arms and lets them drop to his side. “Okay, you know there’s no way in hell I’m leavin’, right?”
Her eyes tear from the screen. “What?” Panic tightens her ribs at the thought of Seth sticking around to monitor her every little move. “You have to.”
Ping.
He gives her a hard look. “I leave, you ain’t gonna take a break, are you?”
Lacey fights the scream in her throat, deciding to try calm and rational. Try the truth.
“Work is crazy,” she says in a breezy tone. “I can’t stop until this party happens.”
Ping.
“Which is?”
“Saturday.”
Ping.
“Lacey.” He smears his face in his hands. “You oughta be on that couch—”
Ping. Ping. Ping.
“For fuck’s sake.” He stalks close to her and snatches up her phone. His face strained and irritated.
She’s up, out of the chair, scrambling after him. “What’re you doing? That’s private.”
“Oh, I know it’s private,” Seth drawls, striding across the living room. “I’m just tossin’ your damn phone out the window.”