He appears, and his face falls in horror as he sees the flooding.
“Don’t just stand there!” I yell. “Turn the water off.”
He runs outside.
The water is spurting out of the bottom of the dishwasher now like a fire hose.
The kitchen is four inches deep, and the living area carpet is all wet too.
What the fuck did he do? “Ahh,” I cry as I try to make a dam so it won’t go farther.
The water turns off, and I pant as I work fast to try to stop the carnage.
Fletcher comes running back in. “What do I do?”
“Get some towels; help me mop this up, honey.” He runs off, and we get to work.
“What the hell happened?” I hear Mom cry. I look to the top of the stairs and see my mother sopping wet and wrapped in a towel with a headful of shampoo. “I can’t rinse off the shampoo. The water stopped. What am I supposed to do now?” she cries.
For fuck’s sake.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Back to reality.
It’s Monday morning, and I walk into the office. I can hardly wipe the satisfied grin from my face.
“Well, hello there.” Marley smirks as she looks me up and down. “Look at you, all glowy and shit?”
I pull her into a hug. “Thank you for forcing me to go. You were right; I really needed it.”
“You liked it?” She frowns in surprise.
“I loved it. I even booked in for next year.”
“Yes.” She pumps her fist. “I fucking knew you would love that motivational shit.”
“Who knew?” I smile and walk past her into my office and take a seat.
“Do you want a coffee?” Marley calls.
“Umm . . .” I frown as I dig my phone out of my bag.
“You’re going to need it. You have like a thousand emails to answer.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, okay, thanks.”
I plug my phone in to charge, and the screen lights up.
Five missed calls, Tristan.
Shit, when did he call me? I scroll through to the missed calls. Last night.
Hmm. I was so exhausted after I mopped up the lake-size flood in the house, and by the time the emergency plumber left, I didn’t even check my phone.
Oh well. I turn it on silent, put it down, and boot up my computer. I smile broadly. I honestly feel like I haven’t been here for a month. So rejuvenated.
My stomach growls, and I glance at my watch. Eleven thirty. Marley was right; I haven’t even come up for air this morning.
A knock sounds at the door, and I glance up at it. Where’s Marley?
“Come in,” I call.
I keep reading an email, then glance up to see Tristan standing there. Navy suit, pale-pink shirt, and crimson tie-looking as gorgeous as can be. “Tristan,” I stammer. “What are you doing here?”
He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Well, you’re not answering my calls, so I had no choice.” He walks over to me and bends and kisses my lips.
I jerk back from him. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you hello.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” He frowns.
“Tristan.” I stare at him for a moment. He can’t be serious. “The dirty weekend was just that. One weekend. I don’t want anything with you.”