Page 7 of Love In Translation
I didn’t raise you to wallow in self-pity, Rheo.
I expect you to admit your mistakes and face your problems. I am annoyed, and insulted, by your lack of action.
Hand-wringing wasn’t Paddy’s style.
Rheo tasted panic and her throat tightened. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to deal with Paddy’s take-no-prisoners commentary on her fucked-up life, not just yet.
Possibly not ever.
She needed a plan and another place to live. Unfortunately, that meant letting Fletcher Wright invade her privacy, upset her equilibrium, invigorate her libido, and move in. What other choice did she have?
Fuck all.
But would he let her stay?
Rheo lifted her head as Fletcher crossed the hallway to where she stood. She clocked his confusion and a hint of disquiet. His sandy brows pulled together, and he gestured to the impressive front door. His movement drew attention to an intricate tattoo on the underside of his right arm, something arty and finely drawn. An ancient Greek sprite or a Roman goddess? She needed to inspect it up close to make sure.
“I’m not an idiot. I know you’re living here.”
Rheo wrinkled her nose and tipped her head, waiting for him to speak again. There was no point denying it.
“If Carrie was aware, she would’ve told me. You’re keeping it a secret, for some reason, from them. How am I doing so far?”
“Pretty good.”
“Where would you go if you left here?” Fletch asked.
Rheo spread her hands out. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
“It’s a huge house and we can share it until you figure that out. But if you’re uncomfortable doing that, I can book into a hotel, it’s not a problem.”
“I can’t expect you to do that. You’re paying to be here,” she replied. Even if she could bypass her conscience to let him pay and leave, there was another problem. “I doubt you’d find a place to stay. Gilmartin is wildly popular during spring and summer, and hotel rooms are always hard to find. Besides,Ishould be moving out, not you,” Rheo added, knowing she sounded glum.
His smile was more reassuring than she deserved. “As I said, it’s a big place and I don’t mind sharing. But if at any point you’re unhappy about me staying in the house, I’ll return to Portland. It’s not a big deal,” he told her, his words gentler than she expected.
That would require explanations to Carrie, who would...blah, blah, blah.Rheo rubbed her fingers across her forehead.Les carottes sont cuites!Either way, her carrots were cooked.
She snuck another look at him and a ripple of panic ran up her spine. Oh, he didn’t scare her, he wouldn’t hurt her, but her reaction to him terrified her. On meeting him, she’d stepped into an unstable bucket floating on a tempestuous ocean, and scariest of all, shelikedthisout-of-control feeling. All shaky and flaky and...yeah, weird.
Shewasweird. As Carrie often reminded her.
“But areyouokay with me staying? Just until I get some of my ducks in a row?” she asked.Hah!Currently, her ducks were either stoned or drunk and she’d lost one or two.
One big shoulder lifted and dropped. “Sure, it’s not a big deal.”
Thank God.
“Thank yousomuch. I’ll be gone before Carrie gets here. And I’ll stay out of your way,” Rheo added.
“We’re just friends,” Fletcher informed her. So he and the glamorous oh-so-confident Carrie weren’t involved!Whoot!She didn’t question why elation drifted through her.
“Thank you,” Rheo told him, rocking on her heels.
He’d given her a massive gift, the gift of time, and she was grateful. Now she needed to use it. She couldn’t mess around or procrastinate anymore. Her sole objective was to start untangling her messy life.
“Is that your grandmother?”
Rheo followed his gaze to the large silver-framed photo of her grandmother on the hall table. She smiled. “Yep, that’s Paddy Whitlock, the one and only.”