A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

22. Eden

22

EDEN

I t goes without saying, the rest of Sunday is more than a little awkward.

I’m mortified that Carter’s aunt heard “my orgasm,” and even though I try pretty damn hard to think of a way to bring up the topic and clarify things, Carter is right: There’s no way I can look the older lady in the eyes and start talking about sex with her nephew. Heck, I can barely look her in the eyes when she returns from Hattie’s a few hours later, a “knowing” smirk on her face.

We don’t know when she’ll feel well enough to travel back to France. It means we’ll have to keep up the marriage charade a bit longer, however, I have confidence we’ll be able to handle it.

Of course, I tell Carter no sexy times (and definitely no kissing, either), until she’s gone. The last thing I want is for her to hear me in the throes of passion again. It was the reason I had made it a rule in the first place.

The kiss had been mind-boggling, yes, but our fight is still ringing in my head, especially when he called me out for going against my own rules. What the hell is going on with me?

Kissing doesn’t count as sex.

Getting somebody off doesn’t count as sex.

Neither does just-the-tip…sex. Okay, maybe it does count, a tiny bit.

I try not to dwell on it too much. Everything is so upside down that it’s best to go with the flow. It’s not a crime to have a little fun, and every time he even looks at me with his stunning eyes, my knees buckle.

Mercifully, Monday morning comes fast enough, and Aunt Eleanor is going to spend the day with Hattie, who promises to take good care of her and inform us immediately if Auntie gets worse. Carter and I head to work, separately of course. For the first time in months, I’m excited to go to work on a Monday, and not just to flee the mayhem of my personal life. I enjoy working at Legacy Builders, and having my own workspace is a godsend. It’s one of the few times I can be by myself to concentrate on work I’m passionate about.

Carter comes in and out throughout the day. Though, for the most part, he stays in his office or in meetings. I’m happy to quietly listen to music while working on all the tasks he’s assigned me. When lunch rolls around, I meet up with the girls, and we have a wonderful time. This time, even honey-blonde Gwen from the front desk, with her ever-present friendly charm, joins us. It isn’t until late afternoon that Carter walks by my desk after returning from his lunch meeting.

I can instantly tell he isn’t in a good mood. “How are you holding up?”

“Good.” His voice holds his usual sharp bossy tone he uses when waving his authority over his employees. I don’t take it personally and shrug it off, having become used to it by now. I hand him high-priority papers he asked me to get ready ASAP. “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to start wrapping things up soon. Unless you need anything else from me?”

“No, that’s okay.” He shuffles through the papers and then pauses. With a heavy sigh, he meets my gaze. “Sorry, Eden, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

My eyebrows shoot up so fast I think they’re going to fly off my face. Did he really just apologize? “I’m sorry, what was that, Mr. Bancroft? Do you want to say that again?”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” A smile tugs at his lips.

I can count on one hand the number of times he’s smiled in the office. Actually, I’m fairly certain this is the first time.

“It’s been a long day,” he says. “Have we received any response or call back from the Grangers yet?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Do you want me to try again?”

“No, I will try to get in touch with them myself at a later point.” He rearranges the papers and looks at me. “I just had a call from Aunt Eleanor.”

“Is she okay? Do you need me to rush home?”

“No, no, she’s fine. She says she wants to talk to us when we get back.”

Uh-oh. No wonder he’s tense. “Did she say what it was about?”

“No. She only assured me that she felt fine, and then scolded me for sending a doctor over to check on her.”

“You did what ?”

“Eden, I’m concerned. She needs to be examined.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t come here to tear your head off in person.” I laugh with a shake of my head. “She’s a pretty headstrong woman and has been clear she doesn’t want to talk to a doctor.”

“That doesn’t mean she still shouldn’t. Besides, Dr. Mayweather is a family friend. He’s retired. Technically, he stopped by ‘accidentally’ to ‘surprise-visit me’ since he was ‘just in the area.’ I figured it would be low-key enough that she wouldn’t get upset.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

“She kicked him out.” A long, drawn-out sigh escapes Carter’s lips. “Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads-up that she’s probably going to be in a mood when you get home.”

“Thanks.” I break into a smile. “Should I get my bulletproof vest ready?”

“No, but ensure mine’s within reach.”

Suddenly, the glass door to our office lobby opens, and Mr. Huxley stands there. His appearance is so abrupt and sudden that it takes both of us by surprise. For one thing, Mr. Huxley is supposed to be off site all day, holding meetings with some bigwig clients in an attempt to replace the hole left by Granger Estates. My stomach drops, anxiety taking root. That door is not soundproof. It’s possible he caught some of our conversation on his way in—how Carter and I both referred to my place as our “home.” The chance is slim, but not impossible. Carter, too, observes him with a raised brow.

However, as I think it over, it seems increasingly unlikely. We would surely have noticed a motion out front—it’s a glass door for crying out loud. As far as his presence goes, maybe there had been an unexpected change of plans in his schedule. It happens all the time.

I straighten my shoulders.

“Hello, Mr. Huxley,” I say cheerfully, not letting any of my concern show. “Is there something I can help you with? I don’t have you on the appointment list…”

“No need, Eden.” His attention is fully on Carter. “We need to talk.”

“In my office.” Carter motions to his open door.

Huxley struts past him. Behind his back, Carter and I exchange looks.

“You’re good to go home, Eden.” Carter’s voice is back to his formal work tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mr. Bancroft. Have a good evening.”

I have a feeling whatever conversation is going to happen is one I want no part of. As quickly as I can, I finish the task I’m working on and gather my things. I’m sure I’ll hear about the impromptu meeting when Carter gets home. I startle Gwen with a greeting as I walk by—as always, she’s completely absorbed in her work—but she quickly recovers and waves back warmly.

I don’t bother to use the train or an Uber, needing the long walk to help clear my mind. I’m not as worried about Auntie as Carter is, only because to me she doesn’t feel or look sick, and she’s expressed to us plenty of times that she doesn’t want us to treat her like a helpless invalid. And her coughing fits? It’s almost as if they make their appearances precisely when it’s most convenient for her.

Still, I take Carter’s concerns very seriously. What if he’s right and her health has deteriorated to the point it’s clouding her judgment? And what if she decides to stay longer? What will the next few days look like? I hate the thought of her being alone in the apartment should something happen. Then I remember Hattie, and that helps ease some of the worries. Hattie will keep a watchful eye on her. After all, she watches that hallway like an eagle guarding its nest.

On a complete self-centered train of thought, it’s obvious that the sizzling spark between Carter and me isn’t going to stop any time soon. The tension between us is…hot. It’s undeniable. Strong. Powerful. And it’s getting hotter. That’s what makes the whole situation so very difficult and…so very, very enticing. The push and pull between us makes me want to forget my vow and rules. It makes me want to ignore the fact that Carter has the potential to shatter my heart even more profoundly than Rob ever did. Worst of all, I know that the idea of our marriage charade and how two days are quickly turning into a whole week should make me concerned, but it doesn’t. Deep down, it makes me excited.

I sigh heavily and try to push the swirl of thoughts to the back of my mind. It’s going to be okay. It’ll be fine.

My stomach grumbles as I pass a few food vendors on the street. I can’t wait until my paycheck. One of the first things I’m going to do is try one of these delicious-smelling delicacies such as the hot, freshly baked pretzels. Next on my list are the decadent, mouth-watering cinnamon rolls, with a side of roasted nuts. The artisanal ice cream with seasonal fruit looks yummy and refreshing too. And what in the name of all that is holy are gourmet plant-based hotdogs? Heaven have mercy . As I venture farther, the peaceful serenity of Central Park envelops me. I love this city. Walking the NYC streets brings me a comfort I hadn’t expected. The city has already started to feel like home to me, and if I think about it hard enough, I can see myself possibly staying longer than six months—and as far as Carter is concerned, that would undoubtedly be the worst idea ever.

When I get back to the apartment, Hattie’s apartment door opens. “Oh, Eden, good evening!” she calls with the brightest smile. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“Hi, Hattie. Yeah, it was nice, thank you for asking.”

“Eleanor and I had the most lovely day, and now she has returned to your reside—” As if she has a sixth sense, Hattie suddenly frowns and steps out of her apartment toward me. “Something troubling you, my dear?”

“Nothing.”

“Come now, Eden. I’ve lived long enough to discern when a lady is holding a concern within her heart.”

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” I try to smile. “It’s nothing major, I assure you. I’ve had a lot going on, and it’s been a little difficult juggling all of it.”

Hattie gives me a sympathetic look. “You do have a lot on your plate, my dear. The recent move, the new job, the shared dwelling with your boss who’s now your,” she makes quote fingers, “ husband , no less…” She motions to Carter’s apartment, “…and to top it off, a guest who has chosen to extend her visit.”

Her voice is low, thankfully, so I’m not worried about Auntie somehow hearing through the wall. Unlike the apartment itself, the hallway is a bit more soundproof.

“How is she doing, by the way?” I ask. “What did you do together?”

“Oh, we had a marvelous time with the cats. The energy that woman possesses is really remarkable! Rest assured, she is in excellent spirits. But enough about us—let’s discuss you, dear. You know, if ever you feel the need to unburden your heart, I’m always here to lend a friendly ear.”

“Thanks, Hattie. I really appreciate—” I suddenly sneeze and, sure enough, when I look past Hattie, three furry cats have wandered out of her apartment to see what’s going on.

Hattie shoos them back in, but one of them, Myrtle, won’t listen. As she fights to get the cat back into the apartment, the elevator pings, and Carter steps out.

“Hey, you’re home earlier than I thought you’d be,” I tell him, hastily trying to wipe my watery eyes on the back of my hand.

“Are you just getting in?” He glances at his watch. “You should have been home like thirty minutes ago.” In one smooth motion, he extends a handkerchief to me.

“I walked. Needed the fresh air to clear my head,” I explain. I motion to Hattie, but when I look, she has disappeared back into her apartment, shooing the cats in. “Everything go okay with Huxley?”

Carter makes a noncommittal noise, and I watch him reach to unlock our door. But before he slides in the key, he turns, and in a low voice he says, “Wait. Before we go in, we need to talk about what to do about my aunt.”

“What do you mean?”

“If she’s going to stay with us, I’m going to have to insist that she at least talk to Dr. Mayweather and then have him give us detailed instructions on how to navigate, let’s say, extremely difficult patients, and mostly, how we can help her should something serious happen.”

“Do you think she’d go for that?”

“Oh, she most definitely won’t,” Hattie chimes in from behind us. She had returned when we weren’t looking. “Good evening, Carter.”

“Hi, Hattie. Excuse us. We’ll take our conversation inside.”

She waves a hand at him. “Oh, no need. I already know all about this whole situation, remember?”

“Right,” Carter says.

“Why don’t you both just have a chat with Eleanor? She’s very understanding, you know. I’m sure you can come up with some sort of compromise. You could tell her, ‘If you follow my advice, I’ll get you a rum cake. If not, I’ll enjoy it all myself!’ Unless you have a better suggestion?”

“Good night, Hattie.” Carter unlocks the apartment and ushers me inside.

Hattie puts her wrinkly hands up in surrender. “Very well, my dear, I understand. I shall refrain from meddling.”

I don’t even get a chance to thank her for her concern before Carter closes the door behind us. “Well, that was rude,” I tell him.

“You don’t know Hattie like I do. There would have been another thirty minutes in the hall with her, at least.”

Auntie isn’t in the living room, but there’s movement down the hall as she slowly emerges from her room. Like the other two days she stayed with us, she’s wearing her signature pantsuit and is well groomed. But she moves significantly slower, which makes my heart hurt to see. I should have taken things more seriously. Carter’s right. But wait…didn’t Hattie just now talk about how well Auntie’s doing, and how much energy she has? Was she talking about the same person?

Carter meets his aunt halfway and offers his arm. “How are you feeling, Auntie?”

“Tired, but that is par for the course. I am glad you two are home. There is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Are you going to scold Carter some more for the stunt he pulled with the doctor?” I ask, trying to lighten the seemingly thick, dark mood that’s hanging around us. “Because I’d love to witness that.”

Carter shakes his head while Aunt Eleanor starts laughing, a wispy, raspy sound that makes me smile back. “She is a keeper, Cartie,” she says, easing herself onto the couch with her nephew’s help. “Quick as a whip that one. You better watch out! No, it is not about that. It’s about the two of you.”

My stomach does a flip-flop from nerves, but I try to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to betray my worry. I glance at Carter. He glances back at me, taking a seat next to his aunt. I sit on her other side.

“First,” she begins, “I want to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Aunt Eleanor,” Carter says, and I put my arm around her bony shoulders in agreement.

“That is sweet, but yes, I do. I know extending my stay was a last-minute decision that threw you both off. I should have double-checked before deciding to postpone my return. Which is why, I have decided, for the rest of my extended stay, I will be moving into Hattie’s spare room. She’ll have it ready for me tomorrow.”

“But, Auntie,” Carter protests, “Hattie is moving out in one week, on the twenty-fourth. You need rest and relaxation. You won’t be able to get that while she’s packing and cleaning up the place.”

Carter’s right. I’m not sure how her staying with Hattie will work in the long term. Sure, not having her around the apartment all the time will take some of the weight off our shoulders since Hattie will be in her presence around the clock. Also, we won’t have to be in full “pretend we’re married” mode for hours at a stretch. But I can’t disagree with Carter: Her moving in with Hattie isn’t an ideal solution.

“It would give me something to do,” Eleanor insists. “She has been in that apartment for decades, and she will need all the help she can get while she prepares to move.”

Carter shakes his head. “Auntie, you’re supposed to rest and not overexert yourself even more.”

Eleanor ignores Carter’s objection. “At the end of the week, we’ll see how I am feeling, and then I will decide if I am going to go home or stay longer. If I do decide to stay, I can make other arrangements.”

“You don’t have to do all that. We have a perfectly good guest suite. I even promise to stop calling Dr. Mayweather on you.”

“Carter’s right,” I pipe up. I want her to understand that we both want her here with us. Sure, our whole fakery would be easier if she wasn’t, but neither one of us care about that, so long as she’s safe and getting the rest she needs.

Eleanor shakes her head. “Nope! No debate. I have made up my mind, and you cannot talk me out of it. Hattie and I had a long talk today, and staying with her and her lovely cats will be so much more pleasant than staying here all day alone while you two are at work. And again, nothing will make me happier than to help her wrap a spoon or two or offer her good advice in preparation for her move. At least being at Hattie’s will keep me close so I can still spend time with you both. Hattie told me she thinks it’s a great idea and can’t wait to welcome me.”

Good old Hattie. That sweetheart of a woman keeps racking up the cupcake points in my book. Once I get paid, I’m going to send her a huge bouquet of flowers. I move my eyes to Carter, whose expression is annoyingly vague.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

Eleanor huffs and gently pats him on the arm as she makes a move to try to stand up. “Of course I am. I already packed the bags I won’t be needing tonight. We just need to move them over.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Carter says, forcing her to sit back down. “You stay put. I ordered us some dinner, and it should be here in a few minutes.” He kisses her on her wrinkly forehead before he stands.

As he goes off to handle her luggage, I take Eleanor’s hand. “If things don’t work out at Hattie’s, you’re always welcome to come back here,” I tell her.

She smiles sweetly and pats my cheek. Then she lowers her voice and gives me a mischievous smile. “I’m old enough to know when I am overstepping. You two need to be together now, as a couple. Not with an old bat like me hanging around.”

I stare at her, knowing exactly what she’s implying. “Oh, stop that! It’s nothing like that! You’re good. You’re fabulous.”

“Does not make me any less old,” she says with a chuckle. She lowers her voice even more. “There is one thing you can do for me though, before Carter gets back.”

“Anything.”

“Glass of merlot, a vintage year if there is not one open already.”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you not supposed to drink?”

She giggles. “It will be our little secret.”