He looked at her lips for a moment, then back into her green eyes. "Coffee?"
"Only after you freshen up, Shrek."
"You make it then," he said, heading toward his room.
"Can't promise anything!" she called.
He chuckled. Giselle was doing better than he'd thought. As long as he didn't hear Xavier's name, he was starting to consider his life fairly bearable.
Chapter 21
After a week of Abbott's demise, things seemed to be getting back to normal, but Chris had more to worry about than the hole that Abbott had left in their lives.
He didn't know what to do for Giselle. Of course, she knew how to handle herself, but responsibilities awaited her attention. Abbott had left her an empire. She'd inherited all the various businesses of her father, and as far as he knew (and he knew more than anyone when it came to her), she hated everything about business. Even its name. She'd had a very heated argument with Abbott when she'd opted for Psychology as her major, who wanted her to study Business Administration, for she was his heir. But when Giselle set her mind to something, it was next to impossible to change it.
That made him smile. Giselle was a force. She always got what she wanted in the end. Neither Abbott nor Chris could ever say no to her, and she knew it. Knew it and took advantage of it, and they used to love that about her.
He focused his attention back on the screen in front of him and resumed reviewing the employee report sent by HR. It was still eleven in the morning when his phone rang withYou Belong With Me,so he didn't have to see the caller's ID.
"Hey, Dracula," he answered, then opened his inbox and resumed aimlessly scrolling through his emails.
Her voice sounded pained. "You said that you'd help me with this stupid research assignment."
"Did I? It must've been in the spur of the moment." He couldn't let go of any opportunity he could get to annoy her. It was too hardwired in him to ignore.
"Very funny, Ludi-Chris." He chuckled softly. "I'm losing my mind," she said. "This woman can not be satisfied. She is a devil's spawn, I'm telling you."
"Who are you talking about?" he asked absent-mindedly.
"My professor. She doesn't like anything I pitch. It's like she wants us to suffer. It's like she enjoys it. Wait, I know. It's her kink."
He bit his lip to keep all the double-meaning jokes from slipping out. "Just take a break."
"I have a deadline, Chris." He could just feel her rolling her eyes.
"You have a whole month. And don't worry, you're one of the best nerds I know. You can do it."
She huffed. "I don't even have a topic. I'll have to get it approved, then do my research, then get these damned questionnaires filled and beg people for it, then I'd have to statistically find the outcome of my research, and then write the whole research paper in that strict APA format. Do you think it's possible to do it all in one month? And that's just scratching the surface." She let out a breath. "That's it. I'm failing her subject."
His eyebrows raised. "That does sound like a lot of work."
"Are you coming over or not?" she yelled into the phone.
He chuckled again. "Do you want me to come over?" he asked, only to tease her further.
"Yes. What else do you think I need? And please come with some pasta!"
"Fine!" he mocked her tone with a yell of his own.
"And come up with a research idea!"
He grinned. "Now you're just pushing your luck. You're on your own, Princess."
Princess. He'd never called her that before.
She paused for a moment, too. "Then why are you coming if you're not gonna help me?"
"Of course, to do what I've been doing for eighteen years—to make fun of you."