I wipe her cheeks with a napkin. "Hey, before you get too comfortable, there's something I need to say."
"What is it?" She sniffs.
"There might be more, well, hateful stuff about me coming out. Kind of like the stripper thing."
"What do you mean? Like what?"
"I don't know, to be honest, but some people have a way of looking at everything through an ugly filter."
"Why would they do that?"
I hesitate. I hate to lie to her, but I don't want her to worry about Annabelle Underhill either. "Elliot is sort of famous, being Ryder Reed's half-brother and all. And that makes me a person of interest when reporters are looking for something to write about. So … " I clear my throat. "I don't want you to blindsided. But I swear to you, I've never done anything I'm ashamed of. Even the stripping. If I could go back, I would do it all again."
She looks into my eyes. "I trust you." It's a soft whisper, but it's steady, and I know she means it.
"Thank you."
"I should apologize to Elliot," she says, sniffing again.
"For what?"
"For being bitchy to you. I know he's been sort of stuck between us, and it's my fault. He told me to get over it before, but I didn't."
"You just needed time to put things in perspective."
She nods and gives me a tight hug before heading toward Elliot's home office.
I watch her, hoping with all my heart that she can patch things up with him. Part of me wants to hover, but I pull back. She needs to do this herself.
I put away the leftovers and rinse the dirty plates. Staring at the hot water spraying the sauces and small bits of food off the smooth white dishes, I wish my past could be made clean just as easily.
But that's not going to happen, so I load the dishwasher and shower. The warm water feels nice beating against my tense muscles. Reluctantly, I step out of the stall, dry myself and put on a nightgown. It's pale lavender with a silken texture that strokes my skin as softly as a baby's breath.
When I enter the bedroom, I almost come to a stop at sight of Elliot lounging on the bed, phone in hand. He's in nothing but a loose pair of black shorts, the waistline resting an inch above his hip bones. He looks delicious-illegally so-with his lean, muscular torso bared, his shoulders impossibly broad from swimming. His legs stretch out, long and strong. I've seen them kick, propelling his big body forward with awe-inspiring power, and I realize I miss seeing him in the water. I can't believe it's been over a week since I watched him swim …
Don't want to go down that path. "Did you talk with Nonny?"
"Yes. She finally admitted what's been bugging her." He shakes his head. "What a stubborn girl. Willful as a mule."
"All teens are willful."
"And some adults." He puts down his phone on the small bedside table and hands me a glass of water and two pills. "Ibuprofen."
"Thank you," I murmur, surprised at his thoughtfulness.
He waits until I take the painkillers. "How did the interview go?"
"It went fine." I check myself. That's a ridiculous lie, and I don't know why I should bother. He's going to find out how badly it went when I get the rejection. "It went okay," I amend. "Well … so so." I wave my hand. "Meh."
He raises both eyebrows. "Keep going. You'll hit 'shitastic' soon enough."
I snort, then laugh. "My potential boss wanted to know if there were any more potential scandals that might come to light, and how they might affect my job performance. I think she was actually more interested in that than any of my qualifications."
"Damn."
"Eh. I should've expected it."
I look around, unsure where I should sit. Before all the mess I would've thought nothing of plopping myself next to him, but now … Despite our talk in San Francisco, I still feel awkward and unsure. Something feels unsettled between us.
But Elliot senses my uncertainty and pats my side of the bed with his palm. I take a breath and settle down next to him, then arrange my nightgown around my legs. He bends a knee, rests his elbow on it and turns his body toward me. His gaze is exceptionally shrewd as he waits for me to go on about my day.
I oblige. "I wouldn't want to hire someone with baggage like mine if I knew her dirty laundry might come out any day. It's bound to be distracting."
Elliot is looking at me expectantly. I gaze back, unsure why he's staring at me with what seems to be a certainty that I'm about to tell him something earth-shatteringly important. The interview was pretty run of the mill. Unless … Did he put in a good word for me?
I dismiss the thought. He may be Gavin's friend, but he probably doesn't know Jana. Besides, I didn't get the impression that she's the type you can manipulate easily.