She makes her own pajamas out of old sheets.
I'm not sure if I hired a hooker or a housewife.
I am sure I'm a dick. I made her move in and left her alone every night this week. I only managed to eat dinner with her twice. The remaining nights I got home late, swept in and made love—fucked her. I fucked her and then slept, slipping out in the morning to the gym while she was still asleep. Joining her in the shower some mornings, at my desk downstairs before she's awake on others.
Yet staring at this hobby of hers that I knew nothing about, I feel like an ass. But she makes me want to try. Try to be different. Try to be better. Try to slow down and give a shit about what's real and what matters. And I think she's real.
And she makes me laugh. During the commercial break of one of her house-hunting shows an advertisement came on for washing machines, touting their deep fill cycles. She ran her hand up my thigh and said, “I like it when you fill me deep, Rhys.”
I laughed, not realizing it was an attempt at seduction, not a joke. She blinked, that slightly hurt look she gets when she thinks she's being rejected crossing her face. So I kissed her and used washing-machine analogies to dirty-talk her until she was smiling again.
Jesus Christ. I think I might love her.
Twenty-Eight
LYDIA
Rhys works a lot but I get this weird sense he's trying to make time for me. As if he's trying to impress me, which I think means he likes me. Maybe even in a more-than-thirty-days kind of way. Not to sound conceited or without humility, but I thought he might. I thought if he just gave me a chance he might like me in a several-months kind of way instead of a two-day-shipping kind of way.
That was the plan after all.
Sorta the plan.
Falling in love with him was not the plan. And it's also against the rules. Just sex, he said. That's the rule, he said.
He told me there was no happily-ever-after for us but I didn't listen and now there's a solid sixty percent chance that I'm in love with him. Which is going to be really problematic if he decides that thirty days of me is more than enough for him. Problematic for me, anyway. But I've not lost hope, because I've still got two weeks left. The official grand opening of the Windsor is tonight and it also marks the halfway point in our… arrangement.
But I have reason to hope because, for example, last Sunday he woke me up with an iced java coffee from Del Taco and two egg and cheese burritos. In bed. He brought me Del Taco in bed. So I think he really likes me, because that's wooing. You don't take the elevator to the parking garage, get in your car, drive down the street, wait in the drive-thru, and remember a girl's breakfast order unless you feel something. Right?
Also, for another example, we keep having sex for way longer than seven to thirteen minutes. Although one morning we did have a quickie in the shower, but even that took at least ten minutes. Since the internet turned out to be an oddly unreliable source of information on this topic, I asked Payton about it. She explained to me that most guys can get off in approximately three minutes if they're not concerned about the woman's pleasure, so I think it stands to reason that Rhys is keenly concerned with my pleasure.
Last Sunday after he brought me breakfast in bed he demonstrated his keenness. Multiple times. Then we showered together and went to Goodwill. Yes, Goodwill! Two weekends in a row. If that's not wooing, I don't know what is. Sure, some girls might prefer a fancy dinner but I am not those girls. And I didn't even ask him to take me! It was his idea. After our shower he told me to get dressed so we could run to the store. I thought maybe he wanted to go the grocery store because he'd seemed really perplexed when I'd told him I was ordering groceries from room service, but he took me to Goodwill. And—and! It was a different one than we'd gone to the weekend prior. Meaning he had to have used the store finder on their website. Which means—honestly it means scratch the sixty percent chance. I am seventy-five percent confirmed in love with him.
After our trip to the Goodwill (I scored a set of embroidered vintage sheets) we went to the Forum Shops at Caesars. Which confirmed that driving to the Goodwill on Sahara was totally out of the way and was further proof that Rhys may, in fact, be enthusiastically into me. I found a dress to wear to the grand opening and then we had a late lunch at the Palm. Just like a real date. He even talked to me the entire time without looking at his phone once. He asked how long I've been sewing and didn't laugh at me when I explained about the sheet pajamas.
It's almost like Rhys has forgotten that he paid me to be here. For my part I've done my best to pretend I forgot how I got here.
Vince, however, has not forgotten.
Not even close to forgotten.
In fact, he's been pretty busy.
And helpful since we've been collaborating on another… idea. I've been putting him off because I'm not ready to make any decisions about what's next because I'm in a bubble right now. I'm happy in the bubble and I don't want the bubble punctured by anything. So truthfully, I've been ignoring Vince a little.
Mostly because he keeps asking me weird things like have I talked to Payton today, which I don't understand because I've already explained to him that I'm not being kept captive and I talk to Payton whenever I want to. It's nice of him to be concerned about me though, and he has done me an awfully big favor so I should be more polite. Ignoring someone is quite rude and un-Trooper-like behavior. I feel chastised just thinking of it.
Twenty-Nine
LYDIA
The grand opening is a bit nerve-racking because I have to be Rhys' girlfriend in public. Sure, the last two weeks at work might be considered public but we don't interact in the office. Like ever. I see him in passing, but I keep my swooning tucked inside where it belongs. But tonight at the grand opening everyone will see us together and picture us naked. Right? Or maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm the only one who does that.
Anyway.
This morning was the official ribbon-cutting. The mayor of Las Vegas was on hand to assist with the literal ribbon-cutting. A giant pair of scissors was used and I wondered where they came from and if every casino in Las Vegas kept their own pair on hand or if there was just one pair that was passed around the city for special events. I also wondered where giant scissors were purchased because I've never seen a pair at the Goodwill and if everyone in Vegas had their own you'd think sooner or later there’d be an excess of them, what with all the grand openings and special events that occur here on a regular basis.
I decided I'll take a closer look during my next shop.
I met Rhys' parents and his grandmother at dinner last night. He introduced me as his girlfriend, which of course he would. It's not like he's going to introduce me to his mother as an escort. But it was hard because his mother loved me so I felt massive amounts of deep-seated Trooper guilt for deceiving her. But maybe it doesn't count as actual deceit since I am in fact eighty percent in love with her son. This seems like a gray area.
She enthusiastically gushed over me though, for the record.
She also said she'd love to have us to Connecticut for Christmas. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that because of course I wanted to go to Connecticut for Christmas but I had no idea if I'd still be with Rhys by Christmas because Christmas is way past the thirty-day bubble.