Eventually, Stefi sighs and her face falls. She suddenly looks unbelievably sad, like the weight of the world sits on her shoulders. I no longer feel any urge to laugh or tease.
“I was trying to forget about everything,” she says quietly.
“Everything?”
She screws up her face, looking like she might elaborate. But then, her gaze drops to the ground and she backpedals. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”
“Everything’s not nothing,” I say quietly.
She lets out another sigh. “In my life, it is. Apparently, my life isn’t even interesting enough to impress a sixty-year-old woman with a face mole, a penchant for pink acrylic sweaters, and a picture of two cats on her desk.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I stare at her blankly. With her well-put-together demeanor, her outburst is unexpected. She actually told me the truth — told me what was on her mind. In my experience, that kind of honesty is rare.
She misinterprets my reaction and clamps a hand over her mouth. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting her outburst either. “Sorry, si— uh, Cooper. I’m being so unprofessional! I really should get back to work.”
“Well? Was it a success?” I ask before she can scurry away.
She pauses and frowns at me. “What?”
“Did you forget about everything?”
“Oh!” A ghost of a smile flutters over her full lips. She has a small gap between her front teeth, and I’m struck by how kind her face is. Somehow, indescribably, she just looks like a good person. “I guess I did.”
“Until I popped your bubble?” I eye her closely, wondering if her expression will give something away.
Stefi nods, but her eyes are blank. Her wall has gone up. “I’d better get back to work.”
She walks towards the door, but I find that I don’t want our exchange to end. She is the only person my age I might be allowed to see this summer.
I try another tactic. “Hey, Stefi?“
She looks at me and I notice how pretty her eyes are — hazel, flecked with gold, and framed by long, dark lashes. “Yes, Cooper?”
“Did my dad hire you?”
She frowns. “Well, Legacy Inn hired me to work for your dad.”
“But, my dad didn’t hire you specially?” I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s something Dad would do — hire a do-gooder to keep me out of “trouble.”
But Stefi’s hazel eyes are genuine when she shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Just checking.” I shrug, playing it casual. “I was hoping that you weren’t being paid to be my babysitter.”
“You look way too old to need babysitting,” she counters.
“Prison guard then, whatever you want to call it.”
Stefi half-smiles, looking around us. “You think of THIS as a prison?”
There’s a note of incredulity in her voice that makes me feel like a jerk. Objectively, she’s totally right. Here I am in this beautiful place, wishing that I was somewhere else.
“I guess that’s a little harsh,” I relent. “It’s a beautiful place, of course. But I’m kind of being held here against my will.”
Stefi peers at me, her expression plainly curious. “What do you mean?”
“It’s my punishment for the summer — grounded and sent off to exile in Montana with Daddy-O. Doing time for bad behavior.”
I watch her face, expecting her to run away or at least step back from me. But she holds my gaze steadily, her expression unaffected.
I shoot her a lopsided smile. “Scared of me now?”
She continues to hold my gaze, her eyes unwavering. “No.”
I’d taken her for the goody-two-shoes type, the type who’s easily shocked and would shy away from somebody like me. But, my shock tactic didn’t work. And I’ll admit, I’m once again impressed by her. She’s not what I expected.
“Good.” I smile. “Because it looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together this summer.”
10
Stefi
I take a deep breath before letting myself into the penthouse the following morning.
Please don’t be home, please don’t be home…
“Hey, Stef! How are the rehearsals going for Death of a Salesman?” Cooper is sitting on the stairs, hands clasped casually in front of him. Was he waiting for me?
I notice that he’s wearing the same pajama pants as yesterday — and yet again, he seems to have misplaced his shirt.
“Don't you ever put a shirt on?” I blurt, frazzled. Nobody ever calls me Stef, yet the nickname rolls off his tongue like he’s been saying it for years.
Cooper’s face is doing that thing again. That thing where he looks like he’s about to laugh, that thing that makes my heart beat irregularly and my palms sweat. I never usually react to people like this. Usually, I can keep my cool. But not with Cooper Monroe. With him, it seems that I’m destined to blush, and to either blurt out things I don’t intend to say or be totally tongue-tied.
Cooper raises his eyebrows. “My house, I can wear what I please.”
I turn away, annoyed at my lack of poise. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way Cooper Monroe does — like I’m walking on the edge of a cliff. Until I met him two days ago, my life was blissfully free of sassy remarks and full-body blushes of embarrassment.
“Let me help you.” Cooper jumps to his feet, the picture of grace. Before I can object, he plucks the breakfast basket out of my hands and makes his way upstairs. He peers at the contents. “Ooh, waffles!”
I try not to stare at the muscles contracting in his tan back, but it's a hopeless cause. Then, I see a dark patch along the left of his ribcage. It looks like symbols — a tattoo? I slip off my shoes and run up the stairs after him, steeling myself. I don’t need to be thinking about Cooper Monroe’s tanned, possibly tattooed, torso.
When I reach the top stair, Cooper is already stuffing a waffle in his mouth. Thankfully, he’s managed to find a shirt. He fiddles with the coffee machine, squinting at it in confusion.
I laugh. “Now, let me help you.”
A couple of minutes later, we’ve worked out the high-tech machine and fresh espresso is brewing. Cooper looks at me, his expression admiring. “You’re smart, Stef.”
“Ah no, I’m just the housekeeper.” I shrug. “It’s part of my job.”
“You’re not just anything.”
Those black coffee eyes meet mine and my stomach jolts. “I, uh, better get to work.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” He swipes a cup of coffee, grabs the basket of waffles, and makes his way to the couch.
Great, I guess that I’m going to have to clean around him. This should be fun.
On the bright side, if he’s distracted, he won’t be pestering me. I consult my list and begin by stocking the fridge with fresh cans of Perrier and diet root beer — Kade Monroe’s favorite drink according to all of the most reputable tabloids.
Behind me, Cooper watches an old rerun of Jeopardy! on the flat-screen TV. I sneak a look every once in a while, I’ve always been a sucker for the show. On the screen, a clue pops up: “Cephalgia is a medical term for what kind of body pain?”
“Headache,” we say together.
Cooper cranes his neck to look at me. “Jinx.”
I laugh and toss my hair. “What are you, five?”
A little smile plays on his lips. “Shh, your sass is giving me cephalgia.”
I giggle despite myself.
“Come watch with me?” Cooper pats the couch next to him.
I shake my head, remembering to be poised and professional. “I’m at work. I should actually work.”
But, over the course of the next twenty minutes, I find myself constantly distracted. I’m playing along with Cooper as I clean, both of us scrambling to get the right answers first. I’m simultaneously pleased to see that I’m beating him, and also impressed by how smart he is.
After I answer yet another question correctly, Cooper stares at me. “Stef, you’re not jus
t regular smart. You’re, like, smart smart.”
I flush. “I like studying.”
“That’s good.”
“It is.” I tilt my chin up stubbornly. I don’t know why I’m so defensive — he sounded impressed rather than sarcastic. But everything about Cooper bewilders me.
After the show ends, Cooper disappears and I buckle down to do the hard work. I change the sheets on the beds, clean the bathrooms, and replace all of the used towels with fluffy, white, clean ones. I can’t help but notice that, in Cooper’s bedroom, his suitcases are stacked at the foot of his bed, still packed. Meanwhile, Kade’s bed is still made from yesterday. He didn’t even sleep here last night.
There’s a reason that this beautiful penthouse feels empty. Kade’s always gone, and Cooper is counting down to the day he leaves.
When I finally finish work, the penthouse is beyond spotless. Pleased, I prepare to let myself out. Kade hasn’t made an appearance and Cooper is nowhere to be seen. I gather Fernando’s basket and head for the door.
“Stef?” The familiar voice comes from the rooftop deck.
I hesitate for a moment before stepping outside. “Can I get you anything?”
Cooper is sitting in the hot tub with his head back, eyes closed. “You’re not my maid, Stef. You don’t have to bring me things.”
“I am here to help, though,” I say in what I hope is a light, professional tone.
Cooper doesn’t react. Instead, he looks at me, one eye closed lazily against the sun. “You finally done working?”
“I’m getting ready to leave if you have everything you need.”
He faces me and his eyes turn playful. His hair is standing on end, like he tried to spike it with the hot tub water. “Wanna soak?”
I blink, surprised. Is he serious? Why would the famous son of a billionaire want me for company? I assess his face, wondering if he’s joking, but he seems serious. I can’t take my chances.
“I don’t have a suit with me,” I say slowly.
He shrugs, the tips of his shoulders peeking above the water. “Just put your feet in.”
It’s not an order, but it’s more of a statement than a question. It would feel nice to soak my feet after the last couple hours of work. I find myself obliging — I slip off my socks, roll up my pant legs, and perch on the edge of the tub.
What am I doing? This is so unlike me. The real Stefi Clark would’ve turned and walked away — keeping her professional boundaries.
But then, I look at Cooper. His eyes are closed and, with his face tilted towards the sunshine, he looks so young. Almost vulnerable. Any semblance of thought about being professional leaves my mind. As his eyelids flutter, I avert my eyes, not wanting to get caught staring.
“So, how did someone so smart end up cleaning after an idiot like me for the summer?”
I’m surprised to hear Cooper’s self-deprecating tone. He grew up surrounded by wealth and fame, but it doesn’t sound like he views himself as above me in any way. If anything, he sounds… impressed.
“I love Legacy Inn,” I say as I watch the ripples distort my feet underwater. “I came here on a family vacation as a child, and decided that I would work here someday. This is my second summer on-staff.”
“That’s pretty cool, Stef. It clearly made an impression on you.” Cooper raises his hands and starts to absentmindedly form spikes in his hair. I glimpse the writing on his ribcage again.
“Is that a tattoo?” I ask, feeling bold.
He smiles. “Yeah, wanna see?”
Before I can respond, he lifts his arm back up to expose a series of symbols.
“What does it mean?”
“‘At the end of hardship, comes happiness.’ — It’s a Korean proverb.” Cooper’s face clouds over, and I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to elaborate on the reason he got the tattoo.
Not wanting to push, I decide to change the subject. I’m curious about this mysterious boy, who makes my stomach do strange things. “What’s LA like?”
“Smoggy.”
“Descriptive,” I say sarcastically.
I’m pleased to hear him laugh. He has a perfectly lazy, easygoing expression on his face. “Okay, it’s big. Sprawling. Busy. Hot. Lonely. Is that better?”
The last word trips me up. “Lonely?”
A shadow passes over his eyes for a moment, but then he breaks into a wide smile. “Mom’s house is so big, you can get lost for weeks. It can get lonely wandering the hallways, crying for help.”
I laugh and swat him on the shoulder. But, the second my hand connects with his warm, bare skin, I regret the action. The touch sends tingles up my arm. I yank my hand away, mildly flustered.
“COOPER MONROE!”
The forceful, powerful bellow is one that I’ve heard in many movies over the years. It’s scary on screen but, in real life, it’s enough to make you faint with terror. I jerk back so suddenly that I almost lose my balance and plunge headfirst into the hot tub.
Kade marches towards us and I cower. Is he going to be mad that I’m sitting here with Cooper after work?
“Cooper, I told you expressly that you are grounded. Grounded. It’s simple: it means no friends over, especially not girls, and your mother would—”
“Dad.” Cooper cuts Kade off and I’m floored. I could never utter a word against an angry Kade Monroe, but Cooper seems nonplussed. He jerks a thumb in my direction and Kade turns his green-eyed gaze on me.
His face relaxes almost immediately. “Oh. Hi, Stefi.” Kade shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. I thought Cooper snuck a girl up here.”
“Stefi just finished her shift and I invited her to soak her feet for a second,” Cooper says. “I wanted to hear about working at Legacy Inn.”
Kade looks at me, and the force of his green eyes almost takes my breath away. No wonder he’s received so many awards for acting. While Cooper’s version isn’t the entire truth, I nod, desperate to avoid being put in the crosshairs of a Cooper-Kade argument.
Kade’s face softens. “Sorry, son. I just assumed—”
“Yeah, yeah. Assume the worst, I get it.” Cooper’s expression may be relaxed, but his eyes shine slightly. He’s more hurt by his father’s assumptions than he’d admit.
There’s an awkward beat of silence and I know it’s my cue to leave. “I should get going.”
Kade smiles warmly. “That’s okay, Stefi. You can stay as long as you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I’d better go.” I stand and ball my socks in one hand. “Lots of studying to do this afternoon.”
“See, Coop? You need friends like Stefi. Not those kids that you hang around with. Then, maybe, you wouldn't be grounded.” Kade says this with a hint of humor. He’s clearly trying to lighten the mood.
I smirk at Cooper proudly, but I feel no satisfaction when I catch a glimpse of his stony face. He’s staring at his dad, his expression unreadable. He and his famous father certainly don’t seem to have the smoothest of relationships.
I duck towards the door. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thank you, Stefi.” Kade holds out a folded bill. A tip.
I wave it away, rattled. “Oh no, it’s my pleasure to help.”
I run off before he can respond. I don’t want to take Kade’s money, I’m being paid by the Inn. And, I don’t want it to seem that I’m accepting payment to keep Cooper company. He’d seemed so cagey the other day when he’d asked if his dad had secretly hired me. The truth is that I actually… enjoyed spending time with him today.
But, I really shouldn’t be hanging out with Cooper in the first place. Time goes by so quickly with him. Too quickly. It’s time that I should be spending on my essay or reviewing my notes for my courses next year. I’m only hurting myself and my future if I continue to let him charm me into these situations.
I work for Cooper’s father and Cooper is basically just a coworker — someone I see every day at work. Nothing more, nothing less. And I have no time for boys anyway —
especially not ones like that.
11
Cooper
“Come on, Cooper, we’re going to be late.”
I tug at the stiff, itchy collar of my white dress shirt as I follow Dad out of the penthouse. I almost have to run to keep up with him as he strides towards the limo parked discreetly at the back penthouse lobby entrance. The last thing Dad wants is a horde of raving Kade Monroe fans, though I wouldn’t mind the delay.
“Would that really be the worst thing?” I ask as I tug at the slightly-too-small pants of the suit Dad forced me to wear.
How I miss my pajama pants.
Dad sighs, exasperated. “Maybe you’ll enjoy yourself more than you expect, kiddo.”
“Sure,” I mutter as I get into the limo beside Dad. “Because meeting with a series of stressed out, pompous, arrogant movie executives is my idea of a fun Saturday night.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I glower out the window as Arnold, our driver, pulls away from the curb.
“Look, Coop.” Dad clasps his fingers and sighs. “I know that you don’t want to come, but your mom left me some very specific instructions… and told me of a very specific punishment if I don’t comply with them.”
Dad elbows me playfully, but I can’t feel any lightness or humor. A business dinner in Edendale is the last thing I want to do tonight, but I couldn’t sway him. By the time I’d finished telling him the various reasons why I shouldn’t be meeting the investors of his latest project, he’d already laid out a full suit on my bed and placed his shaving cream in my bathroom.
I’m no stranger to these big, formal events. There’s always lots of delicious food that no one eats, overly extravagant decorations that people obsess over, and chit-chat that bores me out of my mind. Usually, my dad — or my mom — puts on their best behavior, their brightest smile. Everyone does. It’s a test in insincerity. I remember, as a kid, trying to pick out which of the adults would crack first. Because with the amount of alcohol supplied at these events, somebody always cracks.
The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances Page 37