Staring at the sheets in his room, Kent decided on the sofa for his night’s sleep. How had his night turned into a fucking nightmare?
Chapter Six
The next few days flew by, and before Lana knew it, the following weekend was there. Every night during the week Kent had been waiting for her in his building. Some nights they went to the diner to eat and others he dropped her home without going inside with her. She didn’t mind as some nights their friendship confused her. Kent talked a lot about his work, and she got the feeling he didn’t talk with anyone else. His own friends were settled down with children. He liked to talk about them a lot. She didn’t mind listening. He stopped asking her questions about her past.
Turning over in her bed, Lana checked the time on her alarm clock. It was gone nine on a Saturday morning. She’d gone shopping last night after finishing work early at the diner. Lana switched on the radio and climbed out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, she cleaned her teeth and started a shower. Once her shower was finished, she dressed in a long denim skirt and pink jumper. The weather looked chilly outside even though the sun was shining. She wrapped her hair in a messy bun before going into the kitchen for her cereal and morning coffee.
Sitting at the table she went through the bills she needed to pay along with the details for her bank account. She did some quick maths to make sure she had enough to pay everything. As she was finishing up her sums someone knocked on her door. Frowning, she checked the clock and saw it was just after half nine.
Going to the door she opened it as far as the security latch allowed. Kent stood with coffee and baked goods.
“Good morning,” he said. Last weekend he hadn’t stopped by, and she wasn’t expecting him this morning. He carried a newspaper with him.
“Are you turning into a stalker?” she asked, not opening the door any wider.
“Do I look like a stalker?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know that many stalkers,” she said, smiling even though she tried not to.
“Well, not many stalkers are known to bring breakfast muffins and Spanish blended coffee, but I do,” he said.
She let out a sigh then opened the latch. “I’ve already eaten, but feel free to sit down and eat.” She finished writing out her calculations as Kent took a seat opposite her.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Their friendship really was strange.
The billionaire businessman and the cleaner, she chuckled at her own thoughts.
“I’ve got money for your thoughts,” he said.
“And I’m not sharing them. You can keep your money, Kent. I’m doing what us mere mortals do.”
“Which is?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m making sure I’ve got enough to pay the bills.”
He nodded. “Check this out,” he said, handing her the newspaper.”
Dropping her bills and notes, she took the paper from him. A picture of him and a supermodel was on the front page. Lana slapped his hand as he went to touch her bills. “It’s rude trying to look at a lady’s bills.”
She read through the story. “What’s this about?” she asked.
“Last week after our Chinese, I went home and discovered her in my bed with nothing but red underwear,” he said.
“The bitch, she should have been naked,” Lana said with sarcasm.
He gave her a pointed look. “You’re supposed to be my friend, and I’m sharing this with you.”
Lana smiled at the trust he was showing her. “You do realise our friendship is weird, right?”
Kent shrugged. “I don’t give a shit what people think of me.”
“Then why are you bothered by the newspaper headline?” She handed the paper back to him. Seeing the story had felt like a punch to the gut for Lana. It took every ounce of self-control not to show her feelings. She and Kent did not have that kind of relationship. He was a man with needs while she was a poor woman without any.
“I wanted you to know in case you saw it and thought the wrong thing,” he said.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t got any spare money to spend on newspapers or glossy magazines. Your celeb life is safe from me.” She stood up and placed the bills inside her safe before returning it to the draw in the kitchen. “Why are you here?” she asked.
“It’s Saturday.”
“So?”
“What do you normally do on a Saturday?”
“I bake.”
“What else?” he asked, getting up from his seat. He moved toward her, cupping her face in his palms.
“Erm, read a little. I don’t have any plans today,” she said. Her boring life was finally catching up with her.