Читать книгу The Perfect Husband: A nail biting gripping psychological thriller - Buffy Andrews - Страница 16

Chapter 8

I sat across from Eric eating the Cobb salad he’d made for lunch. ‘Not only are you a skilled decorator, but you’re also a whiz in the kitchen. This is delicious. Thanks!’

‘Glad you like it. Whenever I eat a Cobb I think about the Brown Derby in Hollywood.’

I nodded. ‘Ah, yes. The purported birthplace of the Cobb salad.’ I laughed.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘I was just thinking about that scene from I Love Lucy. They’re eating at the Brown Derby and Lucy inadvertently causes a waiter to hit William Holden in the face with a pie.’

‘My grandmother loved that show,’ Eric said. ‘You’re way too young for that!’

I smiled. ‘I’m an old soul, I suppose. I love old black-and-white movies and TV shows. I’m forever watching the channel that broadcasts all the oldies but goodies.’

Eric sliced a dinner roll in half and buttered each side. ‘Maybe we can watch that channel later. First, I’d like to show you around town. There’s a lot of cool stores you might like. I have to run by the university anyway to check on one of my properties.’

‘You own properties?’

‘Just a few. I rent them to college students. It’s proven to be a nice investment and a great side income.’

That explained the bush of keys he carried around. Maybe that’s why he wondered if I’d ever move here. He probably liked living near his properties in case there was an emergency, like a broken water pipe.

I finished my salad and stood to take my plate over to the sink.

‘Sit!’ Eric shouted. His eyes and mouth were wide open as if my behavior had shocked him.

I jumped and almost dropped my plate. I’m certain he noticed the horrified look on my face. What just happened? I felt like a child being scolded by a parent.

He held up his hand. ‘Sorry. So sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He jumped up and rushed over to me, rubbing my arm. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you, but I want to take care of you. You’re my guest. Please sit. Relax.’

‘I’m not used to being pampered.’ I sat back down. ‘I spent most of my life taking care of myself.’

‘Well, I want to take care of you. I want this weekend to be perfect for you.’

‘It’s off to a great start.’ I sipped my wine.

Eric smiled.

I finished my wine while he cleaned up. He was very thorough, wiping off the salad dressing bottle and butter container before putting them in the refrigerator. He straightened the set of canisters sitting beside the stove and wiped all the counters, even the ones he hadn’t used.

‘Is there anything you can’t do?’ I asked. ‘You cook, you clean, you build, you decorate.’

Eric smiled and took my empty wine glass and placed it in the dishwasher before turning it on. ‘Are you ready to go downtown?’

I followed Eric out to his car and he opened my door and I got in.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said. ‘I forgot something.’

When Eric returned, he was carrying his leather satchel. He threw it on the back seat and it slid off. I reached to pick it up and put it back on the seat.

‘No!’ he shouted.

I shook. It was the second time in less than an hour that he’d made me jump out of my seat.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I did it again, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to startle you. Please forgive me. I’m just fussy about my satchel. It’s sort of like a pocketbook to me.’

‘I wasn’t going to open it or anything,’ I explained. ‘I was just going to put it back up on the seat.’

‘I know,’ Eric said. ‘I feel like such a jerk for making a big deal about it, but it’s very personal to me.’

I nodded. ‘No problem. I understand. I have things that I’m particular about, too.’

His reaction to the satchel had startled me, but after seeing how neat his home was and how everything was just so perfect, I wasn’t surprised. I was curious about what it held, though, especially since he was so protective of it.

Eric drove down the main street in the city towards the campus on the outskirts of town. ‘Do you want to see the campus?’

‘Sure. I’d love to. I haven’t been on a college campus in years. Actually, since I graduated.’

Eric glanced over at me. ‘You’ve never gone back to visit?’

I looked out the window, surveying the surroundings. ‘No, but I might this year. My sorority is having a reunion.’

‘I didn’t know you were in a sorority,’ Eric said.

I looked at him and smiled. ‘There’s probably a lot about me you don’t know.’

‘Like what?’

‘Uh, I don’t know. Little things.’

‘For example?’

‘I hate odd numbers and cameo jewelry and any show containing the word “reality”.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. And I hate clicking on a twenty-second video and having to watch a forty-five second commercial first.’

Eric nodded. ‘I’m with you on the commercial pre-rolls. They drive me crazy, too.’

‘What bugs you? Besides visitors helping to clean up after dinner or touching your satchel,’ I joked.

He looked at me and smiled. ‘It’s going to take me a long time to live those things down, isn’t it?’

‘We’ll see,’ I teased. ‘It depends on how good you are the rest of the visit.’

‘Oh, I’ll be on my best behavior,’ he assured me. ‘You can count on that!’

‘Good. Now, tell me what bugs you.’

Eric looked at his sleeve. ‘I hate putting a coat on over a long-sleeve shirt and having the shirt’s sleeves roll up to my elbow.’

‘Good one.’

‘And I hate reading online dating profiles in which the woman states she likes to have fun – as opposed to what, hating fun and being miserable?’

I laughed. ‘Yeah, I’ve read some doozy online profiles, too.’

Eric reached over and touched my arm. ‘Thank God my days of reading online profiles are over. I found my match.’

My face warmed and tingles erupted inside. He’s so sweet. Kind and gentle. And thoughtful. Very thoughtful.

We left the campus and turned right, driving about three blocks before pulling in front of a two-story house with gray siding and black shutters. Eric turned off the car. ‘I’ll be right back. I just have to check on something.’

Not that I wanted to go with him, but Eric didn’t ask, which seemed strange given how polite he was.

Eric grabbed his satchel and hopped out of the car. I watched as he ran around to the back of the house. I passed the time looking at photos on my phone. I had a ton of images of Izzy. Then there were lots of photos of houses I’d sold and a fair number of Jackie and me, mostly selfies taken at Tony’s.

About twenty minutes later, Eric returned. He laid the satchel on the back seat. This time it didn’t slide off. ‘Sorry, that took a little longer than I anticipated.’

I wondered what he had to do but figured if he wanted me to know, he’d say.

We drove downtown and parked in a garage near the shopping district. The streets were lined with boutiques and quaint shops selling everything from specialty teas to hand-crafted soaps.