The Billionaire Princess
Page 34
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Sara rolled over in bed. The clock on the nightstand read midnight. She'd been in bed for over an hour yet she remained wide awake. Just like every other night that weekend sleep refused to come. Instead her entire relationship with Christopher played through her head.
Reaching over she grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed. When she had trouble sleeping, she'd lose herself in a book. Tonight her head ached from crying so a book was out, but if she kept the volume low maybe she could pass an hour or so in front of the television with a cup of tea.
The nightlight in the kitchen provided enough illumination and Sara filled the teakettle and set it on the stove. Then she opened the cupboard. Several tins of tea lined the bottom shelf of the cupboard, everything from Earl Grey to Lemon Honey. But one tin stood out from the rest, the Dark Chocolate Mate Tea Christopher had brought her after one of his trips to New York. He told her he'd passed an English tea house and stopped in because it made him think of her. The tea itself wasn't the only gift he'd brought her that weekend. An English bone china tea set accompanied the tea. The night he gave it to her she'd taught him the proper way to make tea using loose leaves rather than tea bags like most Americans used.
She smiled at the memory. Before the lesson he'd insisted tea was tea. No matter how you prepared it, it all tasted the same. After tasting the properly brewed Earl Grey blend, he'd admitted that he'd been wrong. From that day on he frequently had tea when he came to her place rather than his usual coffee.
Whistling filled the silent kitchen and the pleasant memory evaporated into the air much like the steam from the teakettle. Sara grabbed the tin of chamomile tea beside the chocolate mate as her memory moved to their final conversation. He'd looked so mad. She'd never seen him angry before. Not that he had anything to be angry about. He hadn't been the one wronged. No one had stepped all over his heart.
Think about something else. Sara forced herself to focus on each step as she prepared her tea. Then she carried it into the living room, covered herself with a throw blanket, and turned on the television. After a quick scan of the program guide, she settled on reruns of an old nineties sitcom. With any luck it would pass the time and make her laugh.
Chapter 14