Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “That was the impression I got, yes. Large enough for us to have our own space.”
“Exactly.” He peered over at me. “Are you sure you’re all right with these arrangements? We’ll be travelling up separately, and it’s not too late to find another place for you to stay.”
“What’s the point? We’ll be working together every day anyway, and that includes visiting the offices and the lake lodges. I’ll be picking you up on a daily basis if we stayed apart, and that’s inefficient. Not to mention needless expenses on fuel, sir.” I closed up my food boxes.
“Right, of course.”
“That said, I do believe we need to reframe how we discuss it. If we say we’re ‘living together,’ people may get the wrong idea. I’d prefer to think of us as roommates.”
His lips twitched to one side. “Roommates?”
“Yes. That’s essentially what we will be.” I cleared my throat and reached for my glass of water. “And roommates should have ground rules in place. That’s what we need to discuss today.”
CHAPTER EIGHT – CHLOE
Roommates
“It’s been a long time since I had roommates,” Theodore mused, and his blue eyes twinkled with laughter. “All right, let’s discuss how we can make our cohabitation comfortable for us both.”
Wow.
I didn’t think he’d actually go for it, much less look as though he was enjoying the prospect of discussing it.
I thought he’d say something like, “Just work it out yourself, Miss St. James!”
Maybe he really had hit his head this morning.
I handed him a sheet of paper. “This is a draft of the basic rules. I will make the necessary amendments on my laptop as we go.”
“Very well.” He scanned the page. “This is very thorough. You’re diligent as always, Miss St. James.”
“Thank you, sir.” I cleared my throat. “First of all, the most important one is that our bedrooms should be off-limits to the other person in case of an emergency.”
“What constitutes an emergency?” He met my gaze, curiosity swirling in his silver-blue eyes. “Injury? Illness? Forgetting to take a towel into the bathroom?”
“I believe the word ‘emergency’ is relatively self-explanatory, and situations such as forgotten towels can be dealt with on a day-to-day basis.” I held his gaze. “But to clarify further, permission must be granted to enter the other person’s room. Is that better?”
“Yes. Make that amendment. You never know what circumstances will arise that will result in us needing to be in each other’s bedroom.”
His voice was smooth, and although there was little inference to anything untoward, I couldn’t be happier that my dark hair fell across my face like a curtain as I typed on the laptop.
That man did not need to see the blush that was currently heating my cheeks.
More to the point, why on Earth was I blushing at the prospect of this bastard being in my bedroom?
I cleared my throat again. “Next, we should discuss the separation of chores.”
“There will be a housekeeper coming from Buckley House twice a week to do deep cleaning,” Theodore explained. “If necessary, we can have her visit more frequently.”
“That’s helpful, but daily chores are still important.”
“Then we should go back to basics.” He waved his hand. “Whoever cooks doesn’t have to do the dishes. We should take it in turns.”
I blinked at him. “To do what?”
“Cook, of course. It doesn’t make sense for us to cook for ourselves every night, does it? We don’t have to eat together, but we should prepare meals we both like. Besides, isn’t it easier to cook for two people than for one?”
“You’re not wrong, but… uh, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can you cook, sir?”
He paused. “I can cook.”
“Having the housekeeper cook and store meals in the fridge doesn’t count.”
“In that case, no. I can’t cook.”
I sighed and looked down. “Then your plan is instantly flawed. If you’re counting heating the housekeeper’s dishes up every night as cooking, then I’m not doing the dishes on those nights. It’s not a fair exchange.”
“What if we eat out those nights?”
“This is a business trip, sir, not a honeymoon.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Can you cook, Miss St. James?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. I know where this is going. “I cook for myself most days.”
“Then how about you do the cooking and I do the dishes every night?”
“I don’t mind, but that doesn’t mean you can leave it for the housekeeper, sir.”
“In exchange, I will be responsible for buying our lunch every day,” he offered. “How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you’re avoiding the question of leaving the dishes for the housekeeper,” I mumbled, tapping it in.
“I won’t.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I scanned the next line. “Otherwise, it pertains to basic chores. We should both be responsible for our bedrooms and bathrooms. Common courtesy should be applied to all other areas—don’t leave dishes or rubbish lying around, coats should be hung up and shoes put away, that sort of thing.”