by Natalie Dean
If he noticed her shakiness, he had the decency to not say so and was soon helping her get situated in his truck. While she allowed him to give her a hand up and make sure she didn’t hit her head, she drew the line at him buckling the seat belt for her.
“I’m not a complete invalid.”
“Sorry,” he said with a rueful grin, which was just about as unfair as his other grins. “Didn’t mean to mother hen you.” He closed the door for her and then walked around the front. As he popped into his side, he looked over. “Sorry if the seat is a bit damp. I cleaned it best I could while you were out, but I really thought they were gonna keep you here until sunrise.”
“You cleaned it?” she asked before she looked down at her recently cleaned clothes. Someone had taken them and washed them for her while she was in her hospital gown. She could have been wrong, but she was pretty sure that was a service that wasn’t normally provided for patients. Especially not patients who were never admitted.
Strange.
She side-eyed Sterling as he pulled backward then towards the road. Had he asked them for her clothes and then taken them to a laundromat? She didn’t think she was out that long. But then again, the nurse had told her they’d made him wait out in the general area for the first couple hours she was there. That was the procedure because Elizabeth had to give her consent before he could be in the room.
She could just ask him, but for some reason she didn’t want to. Maybe it was because she didn’t know how to say the words without sounding accusatory. Maybe it was because she wouldn’t know what to do if he said no. It’d be weird… right? So instead she just said nothing.
But that seemed to be just fine because Sterling was talking pretty much as soon as they got on the wide, four-lane road that would lead them to the highway.
“How are you feeling, by the way?”
“Fine,” Elizabeth answered out of habit before realizing she owed him a more complete answer. He had risked his life for her, after all. “Tired, that’s for sure. And my head is a little achy, and I’m feeling a little bit out there from whatever medicine they gave me. Kind of like a storm in the distance.”
He wrinkled his nose at that. “How about no more storms for a while? I think I’ve had my fill.”
“Hah, you better find somewhere else to live then.”
He cracked a grin. “You may have a point.”
“I’ve been known to have those once in a while.”
“What a humble way to say that you’re always right.”
Her laugh surprised her, tumbling out of her mouth so easily. “I really am, aren’t I?”
“Well,” he said with a mock-serious tone. “I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
“Nah, they’ll say I was always right too, they just didn’t like that I was.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
She leveled him with a look. “Oh, you don’t even know.”
“I suppose I don’t, really.”
His words took on a thoughtful sort of tone that Elizabeth didn’t have it into her to sort. It didn’t help that she was feeling a bit nauseous from the city lights flashing by. Closing her eyes, she let her head loll back against the seat. Although it was clean and not damp at all, she was pretty sure that she smelled the tiniest scent of earth and rain.
Huh, not only had she ruined his clothes—he still had mud caked into his shirt and some of his pants—she also had messed up his truck. She knew that for some men their rides were practically their children, but he didn’t even seem to care.
Curiouser and curiouser.
“You okay over there?”
“Yeah, just a little dizzy from things whipping by. I think I’ll leave my eyes closed.”
“Do you need me to lower a window? Turn on some music? Or would that hurt?”
He was being so thoughtful, so careful. It was strange, and she couldn’t tell if it seemed so significant because she was still messed up from her injury or if it was as meaningful as it felt in the moment. Could a head injury make her sappy? Was sappiness a legitimate medical symptom?
Who knew? Maybe she’d ask a doctor the next day.
“Music would be nice, I think,” she answered instead, realizing that she had been quiet for longer than what was usual. “As long as it’s low.”
“Sure. Let me see, I think I got something that would work. Can you plug my phone in? Code is 1920.”
“1920?” she asked, skipping over her incredulousness that he was not only trusting her with his personal device but that he also gave her the password to it. “That mean something?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Considering the day that I’ve had, would that be such a bad thing?”
He glanced over to her as much as he could, considering that he was driving, but she just blinked blankly at him. If he thought that he could outlast her deadpan, he had another thing coming. She’d learned it from her mother, and she’d brought a whole room in a fraternity party to a standstill with a five-minute glare.
Sterling didn’t last five minutes, however, and after maybe one and a half, he huffed. “Fine. If you’re so curious, it’s based off the first Bible verses I memorized.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows going up. She didn’t know why she was surprised to hear the boy was, at one point, a Christian. Maybe it was because she was so used to rich people worshiping at the altar of money, gain and power, which was pretty much the opposite of what Jesus was all about. “You were a Christian?”
“Am a Christian,” he corrected, sounding somewhere between mildly offended and surprised. “Did you not know?”
“Nope. I’m not super familiar with your family, but none of you really come off that way.” She could feel him staring at her with all of his non-driving attention, but she just closed her eyes and re-assumed her resting position.
“We don’t?” he said finally.
“It was stupid. Never mind. I took a blow to the head, you know.”
But it was clear he wasn’t ready to drop it. “Out of the mouths of babes and those with concussions come the truth.”
“That is not how that phrase goes.”
“Elizabeth.”
Ugh, why did he have to say her name like that? It was firm, but there was a sort of pleading to it that made her heart thump in her chest. Made it thump hard. Quickly she noted to herself to ask the doctor about heart thumpiness along with sappiness.
“I dunno, it’s just your massive castle-mansion is kinda not what Jesus was into, you know? And the fact that you’ve got so much money into possessions instead of taking care of humans or your animals.
“And I’m not saying it’s wrong to have nice things. I like nice things. I’ve just noticed that those who have so much money usually got there by stepping on other people’s heads. I mean, how many times over could your family feed the poor of the city and still be fine? And yet… people are still going hungry, aren’t they?”
Sterling didn’t say anything for several long moments, and she inwardly berated herself. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
“I never thought about it that way.”
“Why would you? I assume you were born with wealth. When it’s there all your life, how do you know that it’s not what’s normal?”
She opened her eyes just enough to peek at him, and she saw a wan smile cross his features.
“Is this why you haven’t been talking to me for the past month and a half?” he asked.
That startled her enough into opening both of her eyes. “What?”
“You’ve been avoiding me. Ever since that lunch we were supposed to enjoy together in the city.”
“You mean the one where you rubbed in my face the fact that you could solve my problems instantly while I was drowning in them?” Oh no, she shouldn’t have said that that way either. She needed to never get hit in the head again because it was clearly getting her into trouble.
“I…” He paused for seve
ral beats.
She watched as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. He had… really nice lips and for a moment, she wondered if he understood just how pretty he was. He had to, right?
“I didn’t remember it that way,” he said.
“Of course, you didn’t. To you, it was insane to have such a tiny little blip cause so much trouble. To you, it was an easy fix. I maybe didn’t react the best. I just… My dad always said I was far too independent for my own good, so when you just flippantly said you’d pay it like it was no big deal, I couldn’t help but feel like you were, I dunno, condescending. Saying you were better than me.
“And it kinda confirmed to me that there needed to be a distance between us. After all, you’re my boss and I’m your employee. You’re rich and I’m poor. You’re wh—” She cut herself off, not sure she could go that far.
“I’m a white guy born to a legacy, and you’re an African American woman,” he finished for her, surprising her that he knew where her mind had been heading. “I know I may not come across as the most cultured guy, but I know that contains some hurdles I’ll never have to go through.”
“I want to say that I’m not surprised to hear you say that, but wow, I really am.”
She hadn’t been prepared to have such a deep, meaningful conversation while she was concussed, but she couldn’t find the self-restraint to tie her tongue anyway.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to wonder exactly the sort of impression I give of myself,” Sterling said, his words clearly only half a joke.
“I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for? You’re just being truthful.”
“I dunno. You saved my life. You’ve given me a job. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I just—” She breathed in and out, gathering her words. They were so slippery around her thoughts, flitting this way and that, hard to collect in the order that she wanted. “I guess I’ve never been too good at sugarcoating my words, and I’m even less good about it right now.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to sugarcoat anything for me. If anything, I think maybe people have been doing that around my family too much.” He frowned, his free hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Huh.”
“That was a thoughtful huh. What’cha thinking?”
“Just about conversations I’ve been having with my brothers over the past few months.”
“Like what?”
But he just shook his head again. “Another time maybe. It’s not important. Let’s listen to that music. Why don’t you search for an album called Night Bliss?”
Night Bliss? That sounded risky. But she searched for it anyway and clicked on it once it popped up. A moment later the aux cord did its work, and she was surprised when beautiful, borderline haunting violins began to gently play.
Oh.
The melody drifted in gentle waves, other stringed instruments joining one by one. It reminded her of the ocean, building and receding, growing and shrinking, laying one on top of each other in ways that were both relaxing and inspiring.
“What is this?”
“Some newer age orchestral music. I was introduced to it in college. This particular band is comprised only of the blind.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. When he didn’t respond for several long moments, she looked over at him again to see that he was staring at her.
“Yeah. It is.”
Hmm… if she didn’t know better, she’d think with the way he was looking at her that he maybe thought it was more than just the music that was beautiful.
They got through about half of the album before they arrived, and Elizabeth was almost tempted to just sit there and keep listening. But she was also so exhausted that it was hard to keep her eyes open.
“I texted my mom during one of the times you nodded off on the ride,” Sterling said as he helped her out of his truck. When she gave him a dirty look for that, he chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, I used all voice commands to send it. Didn’t even take my hands off the wheel.”
Huh. Rich-people technology was wild.
“Anyway, she’s left some stuff out for you so you can sleep more comfortably and have a change of clothes.”
“Oh, that was nice of her.”
He gave an absent sort of nod, but right as he helped her to the ground, his stomach let out a truly egregious growl.
“Whoa, is there a dog growling around here or are you just that hungry?”
Even in the dark she could see the top of those chiseled cheekbones flushing slightly. “I guess that I was so worried before that I didn’t really take the time to eat. I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, but then she realized that the last time she ate was just a cold cut sandwich at noon the previous day, and now she was absolutely starving.
“You know what, I wouldn’t mind a midnight snack.”
“You mean a four in the morning snack?”
“I’m too hungry to care what the correct time is. Feed me, please, and thanks.”
He laughed outright at that, and she found that she liked the sound more and more. “Look at you, being right again. Alright, think you can make it to the kitchen?”
She sent him another glare, and there was that laugh again. Of course, her heart felt that need to do that thing again and she felt her cheeks color. Goodness. She hoped that whatever was going on with her brain calmed down by the next day or work was going to be real awkward.
“Right, right, sorry. No mother-henning. This way.”
Although he did lead her, he didn’t remove his arm from her hold, which she appreciated. She probably could have gotten along fine without it, but it made her feel secured. Less likely to stumble. She wasn’t used to having to worry about such things, her strides always sure and precise. Her friend had once said she walked like someone people didn’t want to get in the way of, cruising down the college halls, anxious to get to her next class so she could squeeze in more time reading. There was certainly nothing intense about her slightly stilted gait now.
They made it to the kitchen without any mishaps or sudden trip-ups, however, and Elizabeth found herself being helped up onto one of the very comfortable looking stools at the kitchen island.
Except it was so much more than an island, it was practically big enough to serve as a raft if there was a flood. And everything about the kitchen was new and shiny. Chrome, chrome, chrome everywhere for the appliances with a beautiful and fancy sort of rack above the ovens—yeah, ovens, as in plural—with all sorts of expensive-looking pans hanging from it.
Yet, despite the evident newness of it, the state of the art of it all, there was still a very homey feel to it. The walls were a light white, the countertops were marble but had wooden accents that were polished to a high shine. There was a huge window with translucent white, luxurious curtains, and she could just imagine the sunlight pouring in during the day.
And so many plants.
Hanging from those were cute little woven baskets, on shelves, basically anywhere there was space and it wouldn’t crowd. She saw aloes, two bonsai trees that she knew had to cost a pretty penny. There were hanging vine plants. Spider plants. Christmas cactuses. Fancy looking ferns, peace lilies and others that she didn’t even know the names of. All of it put together was so welcoming that she could almost forget that she was in the kitchen of her mega-rich employer and the room alone was probably worth more than her entire apartment building combined.
“I don’t think I have it in me to cook something. How about some sandwiches?”
Even though she’d had the exact same thing at lunch, she was willing to bet that Sterling’s supplies were a lot different from cheap bologna on basic sliced cheese that came individually wrapped in little plastic sheets. “Yeah, sandwiches sound good.”
“You got a preference? I have roast beef, corned beef, some grilled chicken, chorizo and soppressata.”
“Soap and what now?” she asked, catching herself on that last word.
“I’m feeling roast beef. Roast beef and maybe some Havarti? Or pepperjack.”
“Pepperjack,” Elizabeth said like she had any authority on the matter. And yet Sterling seemed pleased as punch at her suggestion.
“Pepperjack it is then.”
He went about making the sandwiches and she watched him load way more meat than she would ever allow herself. Although her financial situation was quickly changing due to being paid well for the first time since ever, she still had a lifetime of being frugal and pinching pennies to make ends meet. She didn’t know how long it would take her to be able to pile on cold cut after cold cut like Sterling was doing, but she had a feeling she might never get there.
“You got any food allergies I should worry about while I’m over here handling things?” he asked over his shoulder, a look of concentration on his face that should not have been as endearing as it was.
“Nope. Just allergic to bee stings and a couple of detergents.”
“Detergents, really?”
She nodded. “Found out once on a school trip to NYC. Had an awful case of hives from the sheets.”
“Well, I promise, no detergent in this sandwich.”
“That’s a relief,” she said with a smirk.
He crossed to her, placing a truly thick sandwich down in front of her. She was used to Texas toast, naturally, but whatever bread he had used was even thicker and fluffier looking. Probably some of that specialty stuff that she could never justify looking at, let alone buying.
Or maybe Mrs. Miller made it? Elizabeth was pretty sure she recognized what was maybe the fanciest mixer she’d ever seen in the corner of the kitchen. And Sterling himself had said that she didn’t work.
Oh man, Elizabeth couldn’t remember the last time she’d had homemade bread, so she hastily picked it up and took her first bite. And it only took that single bite for her eyes to practically roll up into the back of her head and an embarrassing groan to force its way past her very full mouth.
“That good?” Sterling asked.
He was trying to play it off, but she could practically see his pride was perking up at her obvious appreciation. But as she thought about it, she wondered how much the middle son of an empire, who messed up a big engagement thing on top of everything else, actually felt appreciated.
