Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (25 page)

“Simon,” I said. “Wait a minute.”

I moved closer to him and began fidgeting with my hands.

“I never thanked you for what you did that night, for saving me. You didn’t have to take the bullet, but for whatever reason you did, and I am
grateful.”

“It was nothing, really. Anyone would have done the same,” he said.

“That’s not true. Most would have frozen up and not even had time to react, but you did. Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn’t let my future personal assistant be harmed, could I? What kind of employer would I be, if I let you be shot by one of my crazy stalkers?” he said with a laugh and a twinkle in his eyes.

He stopped laughing and held my gaze for a moment longer. There it was that look. The look I had mistaken for something else, why did he keep giving it to me? What the hell did it mean? His eyes and expression soften and he smiled.

“I’d best be going,” he said.

“Right,” I mumbled.

“So, I guess I’ll see you next week,” he said as he stood on the porch.

“Okay, sounds good,” I replied.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said and began walking down the stairs.

Oh, shit. How could I be so rude? Thanksgiving was tomorrow and I hadn’t even asked him if he had plans. If I didn’t invite him home my mom would kill me. She hated the thought of anyone being alone on Thanksgiving or Christmas. She was always after Alex and me to invite people over for dinner. If she knew that I had spoken to Simon and had not invited him to dinner, she’d be pissed.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” I called out.

He stopped and turned around on the stairs to face me.

“Nothing, really. Probably just spend the day at the house.”

“No, you can’t do that. If my mom found out you were alone, I’d never hear the end of it. You have to come to my mom’s for Thanksgiving. Seriously, she makes the best stuffing and mashed potatoes you’ve ever had.”

“Well, I do have a craving for some pumpkin pie, will there be any?” he asked with a smile.

“Buddy, my mom is like a pie factory. She cranks out at least half a dozen pumpkin and apple pies, freshly baked.”

“Then I guess I can’t refuse an offer like that. What time should I come over?”

“Around three, and dress casually. We don’t do the fancy dress thing in our family,” I said to him with wink.

“Then I will see tomorrow,” he said.

THE END.