Wrong Side Of The Bed

37 | a tale of two lovebirds.

JANNAT'S P.O.V

“CECILY, DID YOU GET THE HYDRANGEAS?” I inquired as I dashed into the living room – everyone bustling around in preparations of the Sinclair & Roy-Walter family dinner. “If you haven’t gotten them already, send someone to the floral shop Este works at and buy all the hydrangeas available. And also, keep them at a distance from the sofa and the table, yes? I know Sinclair isn’t allergic to hydrangea pollen but I would rather not take a chance.”

Cecily nodded, furiously noting down the instructions in her notebook. “Anything else, miss?”

I glared at her. She stifled a smile, nodding, as she corrected herself. “Anything else, Jannat?”

“Well, now that you ask – add forget-me-nots and wildflowers to the list too. Get a bouquet of each. And, oh, use the white lace tablecloth – Agatha loves those flowers and the color white. Also, make sure that all the crockery is white,” I said, pausing to think for a minute. “Bring out the white Sovrana dinner set with the royal blue and Moroccan gold trims. I want the most extravagant ones out here on the table.”

“Understood.” Cecily nodded. “And as requested, the chef has brought an assortment of chocolates with him to choose from, Jannat. Would you like to take a look now?”

“I don’t really like chocolates that much,” I said, frowning. “Ask the chef to leave them all. Sinclair can choose whichever or how many he wants to eat.”

“Anything else?”

“I want the living room to be done in themes of white as well,” I said. “Along with the dining room obviously. Do not make it too mundane though, throw in shades of cream, gold, and silver as well. I assume everything will be handled within the evening? If not, I guess the living room can wait. And oh, also, ask the chef to prepare a list of the best bottles of wine that will go with the dinner menu. I am sure we have it in our wine cellar. You see, Agatha enjoys good wine.”

“And, oh yes!” I started but halted in the process as the phone in my hand rang to life, a familiar name flashing across the screen. I barely stopped the huge grin that blossomed on my face at the sight of the name, and I caught Cecily giving me a knowing smile. I made a face at her, rushing back to my room as I took up his call.

“It took you forever to pick up,” Sinclair whined through the phone, but then paused, and I could almost hear his grin through the screen. “Were you in the shower? Oh, did you rush out to take my call?”

I bit back a laugh as I kicked the door close and walked towards my bed, falling on it. “Why Sinclair, you think about that image a lot?” A pause. “If you want pictures, you could just ask for them.”

“You and your crass mouth, Walter,” Sinclair added, snickering. “It’s been so long since I last saw your face. I think I have forgotten nearly how annoying you look.”

“It’s not even been a whole day, Sinclair,” I said, in a failed attempt to pacify him. “You saw me yesterday.”

“Yes, it’s been twenty hours, fifty-four minutes,” Sinclair said, pausing. “And twenty-five seconds since I last saw you. Sounds like a painfully long time, if you ask me.”

“Dramatic,” I whispered, smiling. “Sounds like someone has been counting down the minutes until he could see me again.”

“Pfft,” He made a dismissal sound. “Why would I do that? I am merely fond of counting minutes until the next event happens.”

“And the event just so happens to be seeing my face?”

He made another dismissal sound at the back of his throat. “Is anyone else aware of what a narcissist you are?”