Chapter 168

I wake up far earlier than Christian does.

Or, well. Perhaps “wake up” is a loose term here, as I’m not sure that I actually ever fell asleep. But there comes a point when the windows shift from black to the dark, eerie blue of dawn and I know that sleep has eluded me for the entire night.

So I sigh and, as quietly as I can, I slip out from beneath Christian’s arm and out of the bed. I move to the closet and pull his gigantic robe over the basketball shorts and t-shirt that I’ve been sleeping in, as I am again in a new place without my wardrobe. I tie the robe in a tight knot around my waist and tiptoe for the door, heading for the kitchen, wanting coffee and the distraction that making it will provide.

I slide quietly from the room and pull the door shut behind me, pleased with myself for being able to get out without waking my husband, wanting him to get as much sleep as he can. A little smile is still on my lips as I start quietly down the hall, absently heading for the stairs.

I but I shriek, going stock still in the hallway when my eyes fall on a man standing in the corner of the hall, staring at me.

“Ma’am!” he says, soft and fervent, stepping forward with a hand out.

I stand completely still, staring at him, my hands clutching the front of my robe, my eyes wide, ready to bolt. Who – what is he –

Is he here to kill me!?

“Ma’am, please!” he says, and the urgency with which he says it, as well as the open palm he extends towards me, does something to keep me from running screaming down the hall.

I just stand there, staring at him, giving credit to my deer-like nickname.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” the man says, taking a tentative step forward so that I can see his face better in the light, keeping his hand out. “I’m Joey – I’m just doing my job, standing guard here.

Slowly, my muscles start to unwind and I stand up a little straighter. “Oh,” I say. Probably the lamest answer ever.

“I’m so sorry – I never meant to scare you. I thought the Boss would have…told you to expect me.”

I inhale a deep, shaky breath, looking over my shoulder and hoping desperately I didn’t wake Christian with my embarrassing shriek – I want him to rest. “Okay,” I say, letting out my breath in a woosh as I look back at Joey. “I’m sorry. I look very foolish, don’t I?”

“Not at all, ma’am,” Joey says, giving me a soft smile and stepping back to his spot where he stands guard. “It’s always…strange in a new house, isn’t it?”

I smile a little, grateful that he’s being so nice to me, chatty and conversational. I glance towards the stairs, though, and bite my lip. “Um, can I…go down?”

I catch a little smirk on Joey’s mouth as I look back up at his face before he quickly wipes it away. Not mocking, though – kind. Pleased, maybe a little ticked by my naivete. “It’s your house, ma’am,” he says with a shrug. “You go where you want.”

I blink at him for a second at this idea – that this is my house. Because it’s just so…ridiculous, even if Christian too has been trying to drive that idea into my head ever since we got here.

But I just nod, blushing a little to have asked, and start down the stairs. Joey nods to me as I go.

About halfway down, though, I stop, and softly call his name. A second later, Joey’s head appears at the top of the stairs, peering down at me.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I ask, my head tilted to the side.

His smile is instant. “Thank you, ma’am, but no. That’s not your job.”

I sigh, a little exasperated. “I mean, I’m making the coffee, Joey – there’s going to be extra. It’s not going to be very hard to carry you up a cup.”

He smiles again, though I can see him fighting it, as he gives me a grateful nod. “Well, if it would be no trouble, ma’am, then sure. A cup of coffee would do me good.”

I smile back at him, pleased at the idea of doing something good, and start down the stairs into the dark kitchen.

I turn on some of the dimmer lights in the kitchen, not wanting a full blast of light, and contentment fills me as I get started on my work. I find a fancy coffee maker tucked away under the sink and some ground coffee in the pantry and set them up, happily brewing up a pot and thinking with anticipation of the joy my first sip will give me.

I’m leaning down on the counter, peering at the carafe, wondering if it’s the kind of coffee machine where you can snatch the jug away for a minute to pour yourself a cup? Or whether this action will just result in a mess all over the counter…

When suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat behind me makes me jump nearly out of my skin again and I emit another high-pitched shriek.

But my shriek turns immediately into a growl when I turn to see Frankie leaning casually against the counter, watching me.

“Frank!” I snap, stepping forward to smack him on the arm. He just laughs, letting me. “What are you even doing here!?”

“What are you doing here, Donna?” he asks, giving me that little smirk I’ve grown so fond of. “Don’t you know you have people to do this for you? Or that you can order out for Starbucks and have it brought up to you in bed?”

“My coffee is better than Starbucks,” I murmur, giving him a little glare even as I turn away to the cabinets and pull down three mugs, setting them on the counter. “Besides, if the people are here to serve me, they should probably like. Reveal themselves. I haven’t met anyone who knows how to use this kitchen yet.”

“Touche,” Frankie says, hoisting himself up to sit on the kitchen island, grinning at me. “Bianca hasn’t been big on kitchen staff, has she? Just caterers.” He raises his chin towards the mugs. “I’m hoping one of those is for me, but who’s the third? Is Christian up?”

“No, it’s for Joey,” I say, turning and raising my chin towards Frankie, daring him to counter me.

But he doesn’t, his grin widening. “Such a soft touch for a donna, Bambi. They’re going to love you around here.”

I sigh and turn away from him, pulling the coffee carafe away from the machine as the final drops drip into it and pouring the three cups, wondering if I’m ever going to be able to love it here in return.

But I push the thought away and carry Frankie his cup of coffee, looking up into his face as I press it into his hands. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh,” he says with a shrug, curling his hand around the mug, his fingers brushing against mine as he does. “I just heard a damsel shrieking in the hall. Figured I’d come and check on the status of the distress. See if there were any ruffians about that needed to be beaten. Or a dragon.”

I smirk a little and then nod towards the stairs. “I’m going to take this up to Joey. Do you know if he takes sugar and cream?”

“He takes it black,” Frankie says quietly, holding my eyes. “But come back when you’re done, all right? I want…to check in with you. Or whatever.”

I pause for a moment, looking into his pretty brown eyes. But then I smile a little, and nod, and hurry up the stairs, eager to hand off the coffee.

And even more eager to return for a chat with my friend – what feels like it could be the first honest chat since I got here.