Scott dropped his hand by his side. “Snakes have ears?”
“Yes, they look like human ears, but they’re mini.”
“Seriously?”
“No. I’m not being serious, but your lack of snake anatomy is startling.”
“The snakes I’m used to are different. Rarely bigger than seven inches, mostly hooded, one eye –”
Thomas grimaced. “Come on, it’s now the boring part of the tour.”
The top floor of the mansion had a generous living room, a study, a library, four en-suite bedrooms, and three bathrooms. Scott kept catching whiffs of cooking food, and his stomach gurgled loud enough Thomas heard and paused the tour.
“You’ve not eaten?”
Scott touched his stomach. “Ah. No.”
“Come on,” Thomas said, strolling with purpose. He pushed open two double doors leading onto a huge kitchen. There was a man and a woman in front of the stove, both dressed in chef whites, both hard at work.
They looked up at Thomas, smiled at him, then both jumped when they saw Scott hovering at his back. The man blushed, thewoman giggled, and Scott congratulated himself on still looking hot enough to fluster strangers.
“It’s not because you’re visually appealing,” Thomas murmured as if he could read the arrogance off Scott’s face. “It’s because they’ve never seen someone up here before. Carly. Jay. This is Scott. He stayed the night because he flooded his apartment with sewage…”
Scott smiled, “Nice to – hey – don’t tell them that!”
“It’s what happened, isn’t it?”
“It…it was somebody else’s sewage.”
Thomas turned to face him. “Somebody else’s? That’s even worse.”
Scott’s cheeks burned. Both Carly and Jay were attempting to hold back grins.
“I know he’s a massive inconvenience,” Thomas began. “But Scott here hasn’t had anything to eat this morning…”
“How does scrambled eggs on toast sound?” Carly asked, adjusting her hair net.
She smiled warmly at Scott, and he was compelled to mirror her expression. Grey streaked through her auburn hair, and her eyes were a soothing amber brown.
“It sounds amazing,” Scott said.
Carly’s cheeks rounded as she grinned. “You sit down at the table, and I’ll sort you out.”
The table had enough spaces for ten people to sit comfortably. Scott picked the chair on the end.
“Carly and Jay prepare a week’s worth of food for me. Breakfast, lunch and dinners, all stored in the fridge for me to reheat,” Thomas explained.
“Why?” Scott asked, ducking his head in case it offended either chef.
“Why not?” Thomas replied.
Scott shrugged.
“I’m a rubbish cook, Carly and Jay are both exceptional. This is their passion, their joy, and they’re bloody good at it.”
“And Thomas pays us ridiculously well,” Jay added, beaming at his boss. He was younger than Carly by a few years, with only a hint of grey in his black side-burns.
“How do you know each other?” Carly asked.
