Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
It was well past six in the evening and I was covered in oat flour, batter of many different kinds, and happier than I had been in a long time. While humming a tune my gran used to sing in the kitchen, there was a knock at the door.
I wiped my hands off on Gran’s yellow gingham apron and used my wrist to push the hair that had worked its way free from my bun out of my face then headed for the door. It wasn’t until I rounded the corner that I saw who was on the other side of the glass door. Pausing, I thought of several things at once. First of all, my appearance. It was very likely I had flour amongst other ingredients on my face and in my hair. Then of course the most important thing, why was Saul here and was I going to open the door?
I didn’t even know his last name. His eyes met mine and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to turn and walk away now. Not that I was so drawn to him but because I had better manners than that. I wasn’t rude. Besides, whoever Saul was he had helped me not once but twice. I doubted he was here to be rude.
When I reached the door, I opened it and forced a smile I hoped was polite. “Hello,” I said as if he hadn’t just watched me contemplating not coming to the door.
The corner of his mouth curled as if this amused him. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked.
I shook my head no. “Not at all. How can I help you?”
He continued to appear as if he may laugh at any moment. “You got some flour on your nose and forehead,” he said, nodding his chin in my direction as he said it.
“I am baking,” I explained, refusing to reach up and wipe it off. With my luck, I would only make it worse.
“Then I am interrupting something,” he replied.
Was there a point to this visit? My smile was pointless. I was sure it looked as fake as it felt. I dropped it. “Currently it’s in the oven. I have a few minutes,” I told him, emphasizing the word few so he would get to the point.
He didn’t seem to care. Instead he looked around me and inside the house. “Smells good.”
“I hope so,” I replied.
His eyes shifted back to me. Then he reached into the pocket of his jeans, drawing my attention to the outline of his well-chiseled stomach under the thin fabric of his white tee shirt. I shouldn’t be looking at that but it was hard to miss.
“I was asked to drop this off to you,” he said, snapping my attention back to him and not his abs. He was holding out a small plastic card the size of a credit card.
Confused, I reached for it and immediately read what it said.
Hendricks was written at the top in the familiar gold letters of the hotel and condominiums’ emblem. Underneath it was my name Henley Warren. Then lastly, there was a long number and a barcode.
I lifted my gaze back to meet his. “What is this?”
“Entry card. Lily sent it. When the guard on duty comes to your car, you just show him this.”
Lily had sent me a card through Saul? I wondered how she knew Saul. Was he not just some employee? Did he find out who I had visited and alerted her to my having difficulty getting in the gate? I started to ask, but he spoke first.
“I overheard Lily asking a guard to have a card sent to you. I told them I knew where you lived and I’d drop it off,” he explained, as if he had read my mind.
“Oh, well, thanks,” I said. He didn’t ask how I knew the resident in the penthouse and I didn’t offer an explanation. We weren’t to be friends. He had made that clear.
“It was on my way,” he said. If he was concerned I was going to read too much into his gesture, he need not be.
“Of course,” I replied, realizing he was once again headed to the house party. “Well, have a good night and thanks again,” I said and started to close the door.
“One more thing,” he said, stopping me, and I paused to look back at him. “If Drake comes around, don’t take him seriously. He isn’t for you,” he said then turned and walked back down the stairs.
Had he just warned me off his friend? Had that been the reason he offered to bring the card here? I stood there staring at his back for a moment longer than necessary trying to process what he had just said and the way he had said it. There had been a definite smirk on his face. It had been slight but I had seen it.