Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Instantly, my cheeks burned like the fires of hell. “What? Oh my God. No. No.”
“Relax, Ada. I’m teasing you. So, how have you been finding the apartment? Any issues?”
“Issues? No, none. It’s been great. Super quiet. And the bed is amazing. My leg was better after only one night, and I haven’t had to use my cane at all.” I paused, worrying my lip again. Should I just ask him? It wasn’t like I hadn’t already embarrassed myself numerous times in front of the man. I was still willing my brain to forget the time he’d walked in on me naked.
“There was actually one thing I wanted to ask of you. A favour, but it’s fine if you can’t do it. Actually, it’s probably asking a lot of someone as busy as you are, so maybe forget about it.”
“Ada, what do you need?” he questioned, interrupting my nervous ramble.
“Okay, so, remember I told you about my accident? How nobody found me for a full day?”
His features sobered as he nodded. “Yes. What about it?”
“Well, it’s given me a bit of a phobia of living alone. I mean, I like having my own space and all, but I get anxiety that I might fall or hurt myself, and there’ll be no one there to find me. So, I was just wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if we could possibly have a little arrangement where you check on me at the end of each day? It would only take a minute. You’d just have to knock on my door, and if I answer and all is good, you can go. But if there’s ever a time I don’t answer, you’ll let yourself in and then, like, call an ambulance if anything’s happened to me?”
When I finished talking, I glanced up at Jonathan and wasn’t sure what he was thinking. All I knew was he was staring at me so hard I feared he was going to burst a blood vessel. Oh, hell, I was asking for too much, wasn’t I?
I had no idea how he was going to respond and was about to tell him to forget about it, that it was a silly idea, but then at last, he swallowed thickly and said, “Yes, okay. I can do that.”
9.
Jonathan
Ada stared up at me with wide, surprised brown eyes. Had she expected me to deny her request? Surely, I didn’t come across as that much of a bastard? Okay, so maybe that was a dumb question, but I was having a hard time untangling my feelings. No one had ever asked anything like this of me. I wasn’t used to being relied upon in such a way, at least not for a very long time. Not since my teens and twenties when Mam had needed me to lean on every time one of her prick boyfriends had broken her heart or upended her life.
One of them, Steve Duggan, had even tried tricking her into signing over the deed to her house. It had only been my last-minute intervention and insistence on reading the documents he’d been trying to have her sign that had prevented it from happening.
Ada looked so vulnerable. I fought the irrational urge to pull her into my arms and just hold her. What was wrong with me? I was so focused on her I’d almost forgotten that Lissa was still waiting for me to take her out to dinner.
I cleared my throat. “I go away on business sometimes. But on those occasions, I can call or text you to check in, if that’s okay?”
She wore a grateful smile. “Yes, that works fine.” Her gaze lowered in a way that was almost shy. I hadn’t seen that look on her before, and it made something in my chest constrict. “I better go now. I’ve already kept you long enough.”
“Have a good night, Ada.”
“You, too, and thanks again. This really means a lot to me.”
She walked back across the hall, closing her door gently behind her. When I returned to my apartment, Lissa stood by the kitchen island scrolling on her phone. Her eyes lifted at my presence, and a sultry smile shaped her lips. I was suddenly struck by the differences between her and Ada. Lissa was beautiful and smart, a financial analyst and the daughter of a government TD. On paper, she was perfect, so why did I find myself so preoccupied by the unfortunate woman living in my spare apartment?
“Are we leaving now?” Lissa asked.
I cleared all thoughts of Conor Rose’s daughter from my mind. “Yes, my driver is waiting downstairs. Let’s go.”
Lissa slid her phone into her slim handbag, and I ushered her out. As we were going down in the lift, she asked, “Who was that woman?”
“Pardon?”
She flared her eyes like I was being dim. “The woman who came to your door just now looking to speak with you?”