Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (13 page)

BOOK: Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2)
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“I was hoping you’d say that. Do you have a bikini?” he asked.

“I’ll add it to the shopping list.”

He cast his eyes downward, moaning quietly.

“You okay?” I whispered.

“Yeah, just desperately trying
not
to get a visual.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “So, how’s business been this week, anyway? Lots of
jobs
on the go?”

“Oh, you have no idea the number of jobs I’ve had to do all by myself. I’m seriously considering hiring some help. You know, a right-hand gal. Can you think of anyone who might be interested?”

“What if she’s left-handed?” I asked.

“Nope. She has to be right-handed. Part of the terms of
service
.”

“Well, I happen to meet that particular condition. Do you suppose I should apply?”

“I don’t know. When can you start?”

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Aubrey, you’re a corker, you know that?”

“I’m going to choose to be flattered by that comment.”

“As you should be.”

“Good. I’m sorry, Daniel, but I really have to get going.”

“Yeah, me too. I need to get the oil changed—in the car,” he added, shaking his head self-consciously. “Patty. Jesus.”

I smiled. Neither one of us moved.

He licked his lips meditatively. “I
really
wish I could kiss you right now.”

I stared longingly at his mouth. “I wish you could too.”

The air between us crackled.

Daniel sighed, breaking the tension. “You have a class to get to.”

I nodded reluctantly.

“I’ll call you tonight,” he said. “You can tell me all about your shopping trip.”

I stepped backward reluctantly. He leaned against the shelf, his hand in his pocket as I left. When I turned to look back at him, he flashed his lovely dimpled smile, and I grinned before hefting my knapsack higher on my back and finally escaping into the crisp afternoon air.

I’d never have thought I’d be able to shelve my frugal tendencies and treat myself to a frivolous spending spree, but women obviously have an innate talent for shopping, because several hours later, I was back at Jackman, packing a sexy dress, fantastic new shoes, and a killer bikini in my small suitcase with everything else I thought I might need for an overnight stay up north with Daniel.

Taboo
. The irony of the resort’s name didn’t escape me.

After packing, I studied for the following day’s test and waited for Daniel’s good-night phone call. I was glad I took the time to read through my notes because I stumbled across a word I couldn’t even remember writing down.

Apocryphal.

What the hell did that mean? Apparently I’d been daydreaming about Daniel during that lecture. I flipped back and forth a few pages, and then I found the definition and an example:

Apocryphal - Authorship of doubtful origin. For example, Hecate’s speech in Macbeth, possibly not attributable to Shakespeare: Excerpt from speech:

“...you all know, security is mortals’ chiefest enemy.”

Wow, I really didn’t remember writing that. I threw myself into studying with renewed vigor. Obviously I wasn’t as comfortable with the course content as I’d initially believed. I continued to read through my lecture notes and didn’t give the meaning behind the excerpt from Hecate’s speech another thought.

In retrospect, I suppose I should have. Whoever had written those words was very wise indeed.

Chapter 9

Accidental Things

But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him;
He in the worst sense construes their denial:
The doors, the wind, the glove, that did delay him,
He takes for accidental things of trial…
(
The Rape of Lucrece
)

F
RIDAY
M
ORNING
, I W
OKE
U
P
with that strange feeling I got when I wasn’t sure what day it was. I pulled the sheets over my head and groaned when I remembered I had to go to work. But it was Friday, and Daniel was taking me away for a romantic retreat! I squealed and threw the covers back, doing a little happy dance in the bed. A three-hour shift, a test which I had studied my ass off for, a tutorial—with Daniel, and therefore not a chore at all—and then off to paradise.
TGIF
.

I stretched and yawned as I scrolled through my phone messages. Julie had sent me a text.

You’ll NEVER believe what Jer and I are doing
this weekend. Can’t wait to talk to you! -J

I smiled. Those Grant boys sure knew how to make their women spin. I typed out a quick reply.

Can’t wait to hear all about it, bun-head.
See you in a few…-A

Next, I opened my Yahoo account. There was an email from someone I’d never heard of named Jung Willman. I considered deleting it, but I opened it to scan the contents, just in case. And thank goodness I did because it was one of the most amazing emails I’d ever received.

From: Jung Willman
To: Aubrey Price
Sent: Fri, Mar 20, 6:37:06 AM
Subject: Almost definitely…
Good morning, my lovely. I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me like this. I’ve had your email address since the course began, but you must be wondering what my pseudonym is all about. Last year I got rid of all social media accounts that would allow Nicola to contact me using my real name. I created this one, and only my best friends know the address. I didn’t think it was advisable to use my university email to send you this message. I’m sure you understand.
I’ve been wide awake since five a.m., and I don’t know what to do with myself. (I know exactly what you’re thinking, by the way—always straight to the gutter.) After lying in bed for an hour thinking about you, I had to get up and write. I hope you don’t mind that I’m emailing you rather than writing to my flash drive.
I can’t wait to take you away from Toronto, away from prying eyes, away from the obstacles keeping us apart. I know we’ll enjoy sharing some quality time, and I want to treat you to some much-deserved fun.
I don’t think you understand how much I admire your work ethic. I wish there was something I could do to ease the burden of responsibility in your life. I’m amazed at how prepared you are to meet challenges with so little support from your parents. I’m in awe of your strength.
I’m counting the minutes until we’re alone again. I hope you’re excited, too. You sounded a little more enthusiastic when we spoke on the phone after your shopping trip. I can’t stop thinking about how sexy your dress sounds.
Tonight we’ll go out for dinner and drinks. Then afterward we’ll curl up in bed and watch a movie. I can’t wait to kiss you and fall asleep with you in my arms. I’m even looking forward to you drooling on me!
Tomorrow we’ll go skiing, and then when we get back to the chalet we’ll sit in front of the fire and drink hot chocolate with Bailey’s. Winter’s great, right?
I wish you could see the smile on my face as I write this. Even Sisyphus can’t ruin my mood. I suppose I shouldn’t hold you up any longer—you have to get to work.
I’ll see you in a few hours. Until then, please know that on a scale of “maybe” to “definitely,” I’m getting awfully close to the latter.
Your sailor,-D
xo
P.S. Please pack some very conservative PJs and make sure they’re warm. I’ll be leaving a window open tonight. Pajamas must stay on! Having said that, I’m stoked to see you in that bikini.

I had to read the whole thing twice, afraid I’d missed something important the first time as I’d scrolled through it quickly. This email—it
epitomized
Daniel. His confession about trying to hide from Nicola after her betrayal was poignant and distressing, but then the tone of the email changed as he regained his playful flirtatiousness and took great pains to communicate his feelings. I didn’t have a hell of a lot of time, but I had to answer him. I wanted him to know I shared his excitement about our escape up north and that I felt just as strongly about him as he seemed to feel about me. I didn’t bother turning on my laptop, opting to type out my quick response on my phone.

From: Aubrey Price
To: Jung Willman
Sent: Fri, Mar 20, 7:31:36 AM
Subject: Most definitely…
Good morning, sunshine. What a wonderful greeting to wake up to. I could get used to that. I am so excited to go away with you, Daniel. Sounds like you have a fantastic getaway planned for us. I can’t wait.
I studied hard for the test today. Good thing I did—I didn’t remember half the notes I took. There must have been something awfully distracting in that classroom while I was trying to listen to lectures.
I wish I could write more, but I have to get ready for work. My boss is even more uptight than his son, if you can believe it. ;) Can’t wait to see you.
Your poppet
P.S. Now, those are some mixed messages, Mr. Grant. I guess I’d better unpack my silk negligee and try to find some flannel PJs. Do they make flannel bathing suits?
P.P.S. As for “almost definitely”? I’ll do you one better. Most definitely.

By eight twenty, I was smiling to myself as I quickly got my things together for the day, leaving my suitcase at the bottom of the bed so I could grab it and run when I came home after class. I crossed the quad quickly, still on cloud nine.

I stomped my feet on the mat inside the doors of Northrop Frye Hall and went up the stairs and into the darkened office. Dean Grant hadn’t arrived yet. Hopefully he was okay. The roads were probably gross this morning. I flicked on the lights, logged in to my email, and got to work sifting through messages. About fifteen minutes later, I was in the middle of sorting the mail when Dean Grant finally came in. His face was drawn and pale.

“Good morning, sir,” I said hesitantly.

He didn’t return my greeting. “Gwen will be here shortly. Tell her to come right in, would you?”

He pulled his door office closed with a resounding click. That wasn’t good. Some sort of marital turbulence, perhaps? Should I take him a coffee or leave him alone? I opted for the second course of action. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that simmering temper.

I was printing off envelope labels for people staying in residence over the summer when Gwen rushed in. She smiled at me, but it was forced. All the warmth she’d exuded when we’d first met had dissipated.

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