“Yeah,” I said slowly.
“We bought it.”
“You’re moving?”
“Semimoving. Hence, the semiretirement.”
“I’m fully confused.” I sat back in my chair. “I still have no idea what’s going on.”
“Though I love what I do, I want more than work. This trip was a totally different way of living, one that I want. We’re young, Benjamin’s been very lucky financially, and we don’t want to be tied down any longer.”
“This is being tied down?” I asked incredulously, looking around her fabulous office in her fabulous design firm.
“We’d rather spend our time living our life now than waiting to live it tomorrow.”
“You sound like a commercial for fiber bars,” I grumbled, getting up and starting to pace.
“This world is too big to not try and see it all.”
“And now it’s a bladder control commercial,” I muttered. “So what exactly does semiretired mean?” I asked, turning and heading for the other end of the office.
“We’ll be here half the year, and in Europe the other half. We’ll have this great base in Amsterdam to travel from wherever we want, have friends come to visit, whatever we want to do. Who knows? I might even start up a little design consulting business over there.”
“And what happens here?” Pace. Pivot. Pace.
“I talked to my lawyer and my accountant, and we’ve come up with a plan that will enable me to keep my hand in the business and oversee things, but let me start stepping back.”
“Oversee things? That’ll never work!” Pace. Pivot. Pace. “Before you went on this honeymoon you were here all the time, all hours of the day!” Pace. Pivot. Pace. “You’re the Jillian of Jillian Designs, for Christ’s sake—how in the world do you think this place is going to run without you half of the year?”
“I’m making you my partner, Caroline.”
“You’re making me your—whuh?” Pivot, trip, face plant.
Thank Christ I was no longer chewing on that colored pencil.
• • •
“You face planted? Right in her office?”
“Totally. I ate carpet.”
“I knew you weren’t just experimenting in college!” Mimi yelled. I was on the phone with her as I drove home that night, still stunned over what had transpired.
“Funny,” I muttered, making the final turn and heading down my street. “Then she helped me up, and then she proceeded to make me an offer I felt like I couldn’t refuse.” And I could kiss Rio good-bye.
“Why in the world would you refuse to be a partner? You’re not even thirty, for God’s sake; that’s incredible to get an offer like that! Although we’re getting close to the big three oh, can you imagine? Thank God I’m getting married before then, I can’t imagine being over thirty and not being married—”
“Hey! Focus up—we’re talking about my day. And what the hell, I didn’t say I was going to refuse. And what the hell, Mimi, who gets married before they’re thirty anymore? Besides, I’m three years away from being thirty! And what the hell is in my driveway?” I yelled, swinging wide before I plowed right into . . .“Let me call you back.”
I hung up the phone. Because in my driveway was a white Mercedes convertible. With a red bow on it. What the actual fuck?
I parked the van, hurried up the walkway, opened the door, hurdled over a sawhorse like an Olympian, and dashed into the kitchen. Where I found Simon, on a ladder. Faded jeans. No shirt. Tool belt.
“Um, what’s that in our driveway?” I asked. He turned in slow motion, it seemed, and I noticed for the millionth time just how stunning he was. Sculpted arms, broad shoulders, dipping down to that sweet spot just above his bum. And a six-pack that, when he was really worked up, gave up a seven and eight as well. And then that V on either side that just seemed to slip into those jeans.
“Well, it was the funniest thing,” he started, climbing down off the ladder and setting down his belt sander. He gave great sander. “I was watching you drive off today in that ridiculous van and I thought, my girl needs some wheels.”
“So you bought me a car?” I asked, confused. Brain was not liking some of these words, but every other part of me was liking the walking sex coming right at me.
I couldn’t let him just buy me a car, could I? Oooh, he’s walking.
He crossed to me, slowly, and I walked backward as he advanced. Before I knew it, I was up against the wall. With a shirtless Wallbanger inches from me.
Now, for the record, when I went vaulting into the house, I was pretty sure what was going on. And what he’d obviously done. And I was pretty sure I was pissed.