I shrug. Something about her tone tells me she didn’t mean it as a complement.
We stand there in silence. Waiting. The timer ticks down. The storm howls outside the massive windows. Snow is still coming down so thick I can barely see the trees.
“How bad is it?” she asks quietly.
“Mmm?” I ask.
“The storm,” she clarifies.
“Ah.Bad.” No point sugarcoating it. “Roads are definitely impassable. Even with the plow, which I don’t know how to operate.”
“You have a plow?”
“In the equipment shed. Thomas, the caretaker, usually handles it. He’s in Vermont with family.”
She smiles sadly. “Yes. It’s Christmas Eve, isn’t it.” She’s looking out at the storm now with an unreadable expression. “My advisor is probably panicking. My roommates definitely think I’m dead.”
“They know you were doing fieldwork?”
“Yeah. But I was supposed to check in yesterday.” She swallows. “They’re going to call search and rescue.”
I almost laugh at that. “Even if they do, search and rescue will never get here. No one can. Not in this.”
The timer goes off.
“Okay, now plunge,” she says. “Slowly!”
I press the plunger slowly and carefully and watch the grounds compress at the bottom. The coffee above turns from murky to clear.
It looks dark and rich.
I pour two cups. Hand her the second one.
She wraps both hands around it and takes a careful sip.
Her eyes close and a soft sound escapes her throat.
Christ.
Don’t make that sound.
“Better?” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“So much better.” She opens her eyes. Smiles at me. It transforms her entire face. “See? You can do it when you follow instructions.”
“I’m not good at following instructions,” I declare.
“I noticed.” She takes another sip. “Last night you ordered me around like a drill sergeant.”
I shrug. “You were sick. Someone had to take charge.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “And that someone was you?”
“It’salwaysme.” I lean against the counter and study her over my mug. “Comes with the territory.”
“What territory?”
“Being responsible for thousands of employees.” I say it matter-of-factly.
