Things were finally starting to go my way, and I was ready for what was next.
15
Shelton
I rolled over in bed, naked as I’d been all weekend, completely at ease. The sun streamed in through the thin curtains on the window and I watched it shift, chasing away the last of the early morning shadows.
I gasped and sat straight up in bed. There were no curtains on Caine’s windows, and I was in my own room. The weekend was over, and so were the careless four days I’d spent tangled in bed with him. It was Wednesday morning, and after two days of playing catch up, I’d overslept.
Frantic, I jumped from the bed and ran to the table where my phone was charging. My hands trembled as I unlocked the screen, then I let out a relieved sigh. A note from Jenna was on the screen. I moved your 9 a.m. to 1, it read with a little smiley face. It was half past ten and I had almost an hour before my next phone consultation.
Thank you, I messaged back, using far too many exclamation points. But she’d earned each one, saving my ass and keeping me from losing a new client. Caine was right, she was amazing.
I hopped in the shower, then got dressed. I was standing in front of my empty fridge, willing it to come up with something to feed me when the doorbell rang. Could it be Caine? I wondered, almost giddy as I hurried to the door. I yanked it open, and a smiling man about my height but twice my size grinned at me. “Shelton Greene?”
“Yes.”
“I have a delivery for you.” He shoved a clipboard my way and I signed on the line, a little confused. Then I peered over his shoulder and saw that he had three men with him, and at their feet were dozens of fabric shopping bags. “May we unload this for you?” he asked with a bright smile.
I nodded and held the door for them. They swarmed the kitchen and within minutes, their bags were empty and they were gathering them up. “You don’t have to do that,” I said to the man who was bagging up my kitchen trash, but he just smiled.
“It’s what we do,” he said, and then they were gone.
I looked down at the order form in my hand, mouth slack when I saw the total, the delivery and setup fee, plus the staggering tip. Caine’s voice echoed in my head, the offhand comment he’d made about taking care of my food situation suddenly clear. This time when I opened the fridge, it was full of fresh vegetables and fruits, sliced and ready to eat, and several containers containing an eclectic mix of diverse foods. My mouth watered, but I closed the door just long enough to peek in the dry pantry beside the refrigerator. Neatly organized boxes of dry goods replaced my expired pasta and a box of cake mix that Caine had joked was older than I am.
The dizzying amount of options left me rooted to the floor for an instant, but then I remembered my appointment and quickly chose a bagel, cream cheese and a bowl of fruit. I sat at the table, going over the order sheet once more. There was a section on the back to mark what I liked, what was just okay, and what I never wanted to eat again. There was an email to send the scanned copy to, or I could fill out a virtual version of the form online. The paper had a cheerful cartoon man who informed me that the website was where I could also change my delivery days and upgrade my meal plan. The section labeled “current plan” let me know that I was set up for weekly deliveries.
“Wow,” I said, setting it aside and taking another bite of the soft cheese bagel. I knew there were perks to being a consort, but I never imagined something like this. It was something I could definitely get used to. Grocery shopping was the bane of my existence and with my tight budget, I never splurged for the good stuff.
Walking down the hall and into my office, I was ready to start my day with a few minutes to spare. The calendar opened when I clicked the icon, and the phone number of the client I was supposed to call was right there. “Bless you, Jenna,” I breathed, then I hovered over the number with the mouse and connected the call.
The call went by quickly. This client was easy to work with and already sure of what he wanted to get out of the experience. He just needed someone to show him how to make it happen. By the time I was ready to call it a sale, I was feeling on top of the world. Now that Jenna had everything running smoothly, the stress that had nearly crushed me the week before was gone.
“Can I touch base with you in a few weeks and let you know how things are progressing?” I asked after logging his email into the system that would send him the invoice for the deposit and the necessary forms.
“Of course, you can. Let’s say two weeks? I’m free on Thursdays or Fridays.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me through the phone. When I hovered over the day, an event I didn’t recognize popped up. There was a link, which I followed to a short description of what I had planned that was blocking out my entire Thursday and Friday line-up that week. I read the description twice before it hit me, and my mouth dropped open in shock. Jacob Granger! I thought, my stomach in knots. How did Caine get an invite to the Jacob Granger Show and why in the world was he bringing me? I read the description several more times, then I clicked over to Jacob Granger’s website and read the update for the day we were scheduled.
My heart sank. The write-up on the day’s guests made it very clear that Caine “and his partner” would be guests on the show. I wasn’t even mentioned by name until several sentences later. My own business was little more than a footnote. His boyfriend. I hadn’t heard from Caine since I’d left his house Sunday. He’d been cold and distant before, but not after a weekend that was monumental. The excitement I’d felt was draining and a deep, gnawing pain replaced it. This was clearly something he’d planned for his own benefit. Yes, it would improve my life as well, but that was happy byproduct. Clearly if he couldn’t be bothered to ask me about it first, my involvement wasn’t about me. I pursed my lips and took a deep breath, but the anger grew. Why wouldn’t he at least ask me if I wanted to do the show?
“Hello?” the man said in my ear, jolting me back to the present.
“I’m sorry,” I stumbled, laughing softly to lighten my tone. “It appears I am full those days. How about the Monday after?”
“Works for me,” the man said.
I hung up the phone, staring at the description and reading it one more time, then I called Caine. When he didn’t answer the first time, I hung up and called right back. Normally, I despised people who did that, but this was different.
Caine finally answered one ring before the voicemail, sounding distracted.
“Shelton, can I call you back?” he asked.
“Why, are you busy scheduling the rest of my life for me?” My tone was low and angry. “When were you going to tell me that I was appearing with you on a talk show?”
He sucked in a quick breath. “I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. I just found out about it myself Monday morning.”
“That was two days ago, and it says confirmation was sent the same day. Did you think maybe you should talk to me about it before you committed us both? I’m swamped and I can’t really get away right now. You would know that if you’d bothered to even text me since Sunday.”
“I was busy.” He didn’t explain further, and his tone said the explanation was enough, but I wasn’t ready to let it go.