The Art of Awkward Affection: A Romantic Comedy by Alina Jacobs

Author:Alina Jacobs [Jacobs, Alina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

On Tuesday morning, the bags arrived before Grayson did.

I tried not to sound like I was about to go to a funeral as I thanked the driver who brought them up to the penthouse.

“You were just the fun lay, and one day you’re going to meet your real Prince Charming,” I told myself soothingly.

Except I didn’t want Prince Charming, I wanted Grayson. Even if he didn’t like plants and didn’t own any furniture and desperately needed to lighten up, I still … well, I was falling for him. Hard.

I dragged the suitcases to the laundry room to sort out the clothes—suits and shirts to the dry cleaner, shoes to be polished, underwear in the hamper for Mrs. Ortega to take care of.

I wrapped my arms around one of the suit jackets when I took it out of the hanging bag. It smelled like him, that masculine woodsy scent.

I took another sniff.

Perfume. I smelled perfume. Women’s perfume.

“Oh my gosh.” I couldn’t be there anymore.

“This is a sign to try harder to find a new job.”

Sitting at my desk watching him and his French supermodel make out in high definition through the glass wall of his office would be too much to bear. I’d have to plan their dates, make dinner reservations, and pack carefully curated baskets for their picnics in the park.

I picked up the case with the cuff links and millions of dollars’ worth of watches then glanced down at my own Minnie Mouse watch. It had been a birthday gift from my dad. At the time I had felt like a baller going to school.

Grayson did not want a girl who wore a Minnie Mouse watch. He wanted a woman who wore a Cartier watch like Princess Diana, or wore no watch because she didn’t need to know what time it was because she was hot and rich and had people to tell her what time it was or where she needed to be.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I scolded as I carefully made my way upstairs with the box.

Using a cloth, I polished the decorative metal before laying the watches carefully in the special watch drawer, because what was the point in being a billionaire if you didn’t have your own watch drawer in your master closet that was bigger than McKenna’s studio apartment.

“You don’t even have your own studio apartment. You mooch off Grayson. No wonder he found a supermodel.”

I heard his steps echoing through the empty penthouse as he came up the stairs and steeled myself.

Don’t be weird, you’re not his girlfriend. You knew he was going to have a real girlfriend at some point.

Maybe, but I thought I might be able to have a little bit of a chance.

You could still sleep with him.

I did have standards, though they seemed to be ever sinking.

I was not going to be his mistress, side piece, affair partner.

I squared my shoulders as his steps echoed through the master bedroom.

“Lexi,” Grayson’s voice was harsh. “Did you open the suitcase?”

I shut the watch drawer.

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