Wrong(40)

They're still in his office. I consider trying to eavesdrop from the adjoining room, I really do. But that's not my style, and truthfully Gina does not interest me enough to sneak around.

I grab my iPad off the counter with one hand and a cookie with the other and cut through the dining room to the great room. Luke never uses this room. He hasn't even fucked me in this room. I smile thinking about that, since we've made use of most of the condo. I love the views of Philadelphia from here and peering down on the treetops of Rittenhouse Square Park below.

The room itself is mammoth with two seating areas. I can't imagine Luke picking out sofas or lamps. I wonder if whoever stocked the kitchen with bakeware decorated this room, but quickly discount that idea. This room was professionally decorated. The entire condo was, minus those three empty bedrooms. I still find their complete emptiness a little odd. I imagine the decorator cried at not being able to create guest suites with mounds of fluffy comforters and expensive pillows plumped just so.

While beautiful, this room is not lived in. Looking around, I wonder if Luke's ever put a Christmas tree up in here. I giggle at the thought. There is no way, which is too bad, because there is an empty alcove in this room in front of a huge window with views of the park. I imagine the architect pictured a grand piano in this space, but it's perfect for a Christmas tree.

I sit in one of the armchairs and surf the internet on my iPad before the office door clicks open, finally. Luke tells Gina to call his office on Monday if she needs anything as he walks her to the front door. I'd rather hear him tell her to call him never, but at least she's leaving. I stay put in the chair.

The front door closes and the house is quiet. I know Luke didn't leave with her, but I don't hear him. A few minutes later Luke walks into the room with a handful of cookies.

"You made cookies?" He winks at me as he stuffs one in his mouth. He's in athletic pants and a short-sleeved tee shirt. His hair is tousled, like he ran a towel through it after his workout. I hate that Gina saw him like this.

"I did," I reply, not sure what to make of him right now. I guess we're not fighting about condoms anymore.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, inhaling another cookie and glancing around the unused room. "I couldn't find you."

I shrug. "I didn't know what to do with myself while I was waiting for you to finish with your ex-fiancée."

"Miss Tisdale, is that sarcasm I'm hearing?" He leans over me and places his now empty hands on the chair arms, pinning me in place. "I'm very finished with my ex-fiancée, Sophie." He leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.

"Why is she always around then?" I ask before I can think better of it. I trust Luke. I'm not even going to say it's because I don't trust Gina, because she's irrelevant. She can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do. I simply don't like her, or her intentions, but it's none of my business.

"It's just… work stuff, Sophie," he says, straightening. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to go shopping? Gina said something about you wanting to go to Target?"

I laugh then. She's such a bitch. "Yeah, Luke, let's go to Target."





Chapter 21





We do go to Target, and let me tell you, Target with Luke is a lot of fun. I ask him if we can get a tree and he looks a little bewildered by the request but agrees. And when I mention while we look at the pre-lit trees in Target that I've never had a real tree because my grandfather is allergic to them, Luke looks at me for a moment, his gaze moving across my face like he's imagining me as a child, and then pulls out his phone and makes a call. By the time we finish shopping there's a ten-foot balsam fir tree set up and strung with lights in Luke's great room.

He tells me to pick out "whatever trees need," but I refuse, only agreeing to pick the tree decor once he admits that he's partial to blue and that the elf ornaments are funny. Which leads to my discovery that Luke has never seen the movie Elf.

While Luke goes to locate a DVD of Elf I scour the seasonal department picking all the blue ornaments and elves that I think Luke will like. He comes back with an armful of stuff and dumps it in the cart like a kid with a black American Express card. Then he smacks my ass right in the middle of the aisle and asks what else we can buy at Target.

I laugh and ask how he gets food and paper towels without ever shopping and he tells me that Mrs. Gieger takes care of all of that. I look at him blankly, having no idea who Mrs. Gieger is, until he informs me that he has a housekeeper who stops in during the week. Apparently she does everything. Shopping, laundry, dry-cleaning runs, cleaning, changing sheets, emptying the dishwasher. Everything. Rich people are weird.