Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,96
Aaron says.
Me too, kid. Me too.
Nevertheless, I adjust Aaron’s nightlight—which is shaped like a rocket ship—and show myself out.
Then I dash up the stairs and into my bedroom for a five-minute makeover. Just because I’ve accepted the fact that Gunnar is exiting my life doesn’t mean I want to look like a wreck while he does it. I put on a cute little scoop neck top over my jeans. I brush my teeth and my hair and put on some lip gloss.
Then I scrutinize myself in the mirror.
Nice going, that little voice says. Cute enough to make a point, but not trying too hard, either.
My phone buzzes with a text. I’m downstairs, but I didn’t want to hit the buzzer and wake up the kid.
Gunnar is outside! my hormones shout. But I ignore them, along with that fizz of excitement in my tummy.
I cross the living room and lean on the button that unlocks the front door. My goal is to get rid of him as soon as I can. Then to drink a big glass of lonely girl wine and read a dirty book in bed.
A moment later I open the door to find him standing there with a dozen roses.
Flowers! my hormones shriek. He loves us!
If only. “Hi Gunnar. Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask, taking the bouquet that he’s offered.
“Nope. That’s just because I miss you.” He steps in, closes the door, and gives me a sudden one-armed hug. He drops a kiss to my temple, too.
My hormones light up like horny fireflies on a hot June night.
I step away, carrying the roses to the kitchen, where I grab a vase off the top of the refrigerator and fill it with water. “So what did you want to show me?”
“Yeah! What is it?” yells Aaron from downstairs.
Amused, Gunnar walks over to the top of the stairs, and addresses the kid. “It’s just a boring work thing. For the pie shop. I promise you’re not missing out.”
“Will you play Sorry with me sometime?” my nephew asks.
“Kid, next time I’m in New York, you and I can have a pie shop Sorry date if your mom says it’s okay. Now go to sleep.”
“Night, Gunnar!” Aaron yells.
“What is this boring pie shop thing?” I ask a few minutes later when we’re finally settled on the sofa. I’ve left a couple feet of distance between us, but the scent of roses is making me a little crazy. I wonder what it would be like to date Gunnar seriously.
Stressful, probably. He has a scary job. And other women would always be throwing themselves at him.
“It’s about your rat infestation,” Gunnar says, pulling his laptop out of a messenger bag, and setting it on the coffee table. “There are many species of rat, apparently.”
“I know that,” I say a little too curtly.
“Ah, but I’m not sure you know about this kind of rat.” He presses a button, bringing a video to life on the screen.
“Is that Saroya?” I ask, leaning forward to watch her stroll into the frame carrying a tool in her right hand. It might be a screwdriver. She leans over and pokes that thing right through my basement window, making me gasp.
She tucks the tool back into her jacket pocket. Then she leans over again to inspect her work, just as someone’s head comes into view at the bakery door.
It’s Gunnar’s head.
“You saw her!” I blurt. “Oh my God. She planted those rats, right? What did she say she was doing out there?”
“I wish I’d seen the whole thing, honey. But when she showed me the window, she had the balls to complain that it looked trashy. I’m sorry, Posy. I didn’t realize what she’d done until I listened to your message.”
“How could you?” I can barely wrap my mind around it myself. My breath is coming in fast gasps. “She’s out to get me. Why? She already got Spalding. Wasn’t that her goal?” I feel lightheaded all of a sudden. Nothing makes sense.
“Come here.” Gunnar moves closer to me on the sofa and wraps an arm around me.
The brace of his warm, sturdy body calms me down a little. I rest my cheek against his shoulder and take a deeper breath.
“I don’t know what her game is. She’s not a well person. But you’re going to be all right.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath against my panic. “But I need to tell her that I’m on to her. And that she can’t get away