Well Played, стр. 49
“Really?” I yelled. “You have a quarter of a million dollars to renovate a Philadelphia row house, and that’s the cheap garbage tile you pick for the bathroom?”
“They have to make up for the money they spent replacing those hardwood floors somehow.” Daniel crunched into an eggroll.
I tsked and shook my head. “They could have refinished the original ones for half that, easily.”
“Oh, yeah?” He bumped my shoulder with his. “Refinish a lot of floors, do you?”
“I watch a lot of TV where other people refinish a lot of floors. I think that makes me an expert.”
He considered that. “Close enough. I’ll accept that.”
I slurped up one more bite of noodles while the couple on the screen bickered about the color of the shower tile. Their marriage wasn’t going to last beyond the renovation of that house. “I wonder what it’s like,” I finally said.
“I think the green would have looked better, but that’s not the hill I want to die on.”
“No . . .” I passed the lo mein carton to him. “I mean having a space like that. My place would fit in their kitchen, you know? I watch shows like this and wonder what it would be like to live that kind of life. Where you have an amazing space like that, and the money to make it exactly what you want.”
On the television, the show segued into one about an even richer, even more nonsensical couple trying to decide which private island they wanted to buy. “I don’t know,” I said. “It seems like a lot of work. A lot of responsibility.”
“The island? Definitely.”
“Any of it.” I shrugged.
“Hmm.” Daniel leaned to the side, placing the empty lo mein carton on the nightstand. “No idea,” he finally said. “I mean there’s the RV, but we rotate who sleeps there, so it’s not really mine. The biggest space I’ve ever had that’s all mine is my pickup truck. It’s nice and all, but it’s mostly decorated in last month’s fast-food wrappers.”
I snickered at that, but looked at him thoughtfully as I finished off the last dumpling. “Yeah, you’re not exactly a putting-down-roots kind of guy, are you?”
“Not really.” He leaned back on his pillows, and I watched the flicker of the television screen in his eyes. “We’re here for the next month, and that’s probably the closest thing I have to putting down roots these days.”
Right. He’d only be here for four weeks while the Kilts performed at Faire. But that month stretched before the two of us like a deserted highway, long and winding. Plenty of time. Why think about it right now? That was in the future. For now he was here, and that was all that mattered.
“How does that work exactly?” I echoed his position, reclining on my side of his bed, my shoulders and head cushioned on my pillows but turned toward him. “I helped organize stuff this year, and I know we only cover the hotel for the weekends y’all perform for us.”
“True.” He nodded against the pillows at his head. “We pay for the rooms during the week. This is a great central location, near DC and northern Virginia, so I’m able to book the guys into bars for shows at least two nights each week.” He shrugged. “It’s kind of like downtime, before we do the Maryland one. They can rehearse, I can get paperwork done.”
“Sounds glamorous.”
He snorted. “Oh, yeah. You have no idea.”
The private island purchase wasn’t going well for our friends on the reality show. One island was perfect, but the mansion on it needed work. Another island was substandard, as private islands went, but the house was perfect. As for me, I was full of food and contentment, slowly growing sleepy as the mega-rich couple prepared to spend more money than I’d ever make in my lifetime. Before long I’d moved closer to Daniel, seeking out his warmth, and dozed a little with my head on his shoulder. His arm went around me, his fingertips stroking slowly up and down my upper arm. There was no expectation of anything physical. He hadn’t even kissed me since I’d first arrived.
It was the best date I’d been on in years.
• • •
The next morning, while I was bustling around getting ready for day two of Faire, my phone buzzed from where it was charging on my kitchen counter. I nudged Benedick away from my cream cheese–covered bagel on the way to my phone.
“Not yours,” I chided. But my annoyance at the cat trying to steal my breakfast faded as I picked up my phone.
Good morning! Thanks for coming over last night.
I licked cream cheese off my thumb before typing a response. Feed me lo mein and I’m yours forever.
Is that all it takes? Score.
I grinned around another sip of coffee. Just leave the sweet-and-sour where it belongs next time. In the trash.
That got me a couple laughing emojis in response. Well, the guys appreciated it when they got back from the bars, so I got to be a provider for everyone last night.
Lucky you. But bringing the rest of the band into the conversation brought Dex into the room, into our burgeoning relationship, and I didn’t like the way that made me feel. I wasn’t the kind of person who regretted much. My philosophy was more “What’s done is done, let’s move on.” But for the first time in my life, I wished I’d never hooked up with Dex. Because what was happening with Daniel felt so much more real, so much more substantial that I didn’t want the memory of my fling with his cousin getting in the way.
So I changed