Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Emma
Lazybones.
That’s one of the nicknames my dad gifted me with.
I held onto that proudly the summer after eighth grade when I couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed until noon most days.
That lasted all of two weeks before my dad ordered me to get up as he was leaving for work one day. He handed me a list of chores that needed to be done around the house.
My reward for completing the list was a new wardrobe for high school.
I spent most of that summer at home tending to my mother’s vegetable garden and painting the massive picket fence surrounding their property. The hard work and commitment to complete every task on the list taught me the value of getting out of bed early.
I thought that my internal clock would have kept me snoozing until at least nine a.m. New York time, but it’s barely past seven and I’m wide awake.
This is solid proof that I’ve outgrown the Lazybones nickname for good.
I crawl out of bed and dash to the door of my room.
I didn’t hear Case come home last night because I fell asleep twenty minutes after he left.
Resting my right ear against the door, I whisper, “I hope you’re in your bed.”
“Alone,” I tack on for good measure before I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath.
Even though the only thing that happened between us last night was some innocent handholding, it was more action with a man than I’ve seen since I agreed to go on my first date with Beauregard.
Since I hear absolutely nothing coming from outside the door, I stretch. “He’s asleep. He’s fast asleep dreaming about you.”
Sighing, I look around the room.
It’s much bigger than the bedroom in my condo. Since I’m all about space and comfort when I sleep, I managed to squeeze a king-sized bed into the room when I moved in. If I want to open my dresser drawers, I have to stand to the side, since they hit the foot of the bed before they are fully open.
I don’t plan on staying in that condo forever, but for now, it’s an almost perfect fit.
I hear a knock in the distance.
Pressing my ear to the door again, I wonder if it’s Case.
Silence greets me.
Swinging around, I grab a pair of black yoga shorts off an armchair in the corner. It’s become the collection zone for my clothes. Every morning, I tidy things up, make the bed, and hide my suitcase in the closet.
A persistent louder knock starts up.
I trek across the room and open the door to peer out.
The knock has turned into an all-out series of bangs.
Rushing from the room, I turn the corridor and race into the foyer.
Maybe it’s Case on the other side of the apartment door. Did he forget his keys last night? Am I about to witness a walk of shame?
Sucking in a deep breath, I march toward the door and swing it open with a flourish.
“Miss Owens,” Lester greets me with wide eyes. “Oh dear. I woke you up.”
The dead giveaway is the state of my hair. I know that I toss and turn at night. My hair must look like I haven’t brushed it in days.
I try and smooth it down with the palm of my hand, but it’s useless. I feel it spring back to its unruly state the second my fingers run over it.
“I was awake,” I confess. “I was listening for…”
Nope. I will not tell Lester that I was listening for Case because I have no clue if my roommate came home last night. The man standing in front of me will sell a secret for a dollar.
Lester waits for me to finish, but I laugh. “I was listening to the chirping birds outside my window.”
“Birds?” His brows perch. “I’ve heard a siren or two this morning. A multitude of car horns as expected. I can’t say I’ve heard the sweet sound of a bird, though.”
I look down and realize that I’m still wearing the same thin tank top I was last night.
Great. Now Lester has seen me braless.
Wanting this to be over, I glance over my shoulder. “Do you need to talk to Case? I can wake him up.”
Hopefully he’s in his bedroom wearing boxer briefs or less.
I smile at the mental image of that.
“No, no.” Lester chuckles. “Mr. Abbott left for the office an hour ago. I’m here with a special delivery for you.”
My gaze drops to his hands. “What the fu…?”
“Breakfast,” Lester interrupts. “There are bagels. It appears to be a dozen. You’ll find cream cheese and a container of fresh berries in the other bag. The perfect accompaniment is this coffee from Palla on Fifth.”
He pushes two white paper bags at me, along with a large cup of coffee.
I reach for it all. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting this.”
With a bright smile, Lester tips his chin. “Mr. Abbott arranged it for you. A courier dropped the bagels at the front desk. They are from an establishment called Bright Bagels, I believe. I picked up the rest myself. The coffee contains one cream and one sugar. I hope it’s to your liking.”
How am I holding a bag from Bright Bagels right now?
Tears threaten my eyes.
No one has ever gone to this much trouble for me.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Lester.
“You’re very welcome,” he says in a soft tone. “One more thing, Miss Owens.”
I glance up at his kind face. “What is it?”
“Mr. Abbott asked me to deliver this message to you.” Reaching into his pocket, he tugs out a piece of paper. Its edges are jagged as if it was torn from the corner of a newspaper. I catch a glimpse of something written in red ink.
Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath. “I hope you enjoy breakfast, Freckles, as much as I enjoyed dinner last night.”