"No one told me that."
"Did anyone ever teach you to cook?"
"No." The word came out flat. "We had staff. Langfords don't make their own food."
I looked at him—standing in my kitchen in my oversized clothes, looking lost and embarrassed and completely out of his depth.A man who'd grown up with servants and had probably never washed his own dishes.
"I could teach you," I heard myself say. "Basic stuff. If you're going to be here a while, you might as well learn to feed yourself."
He looked at me with surprise. "You'd do that?"
"It's not charity. I just don't want you burning my apartment down."
Something flickered across his face—amusement, maybe. "Fair enough."
"Breakfast first." I moved past him to the coffee maker. "Watch and learn."
I made coffee while he stood to the side, trying to stay out of the way. Then I pulled out bread and butter and started a simple breakfast—toast and eggs done properly, nothing fancy, but hot and filling.
We ate standing at the counter because there wasn't really anywhere else. He took his first bite and went still.
"This is good."
"It's eggs."
"It's eggs that aren't burned." He took another bite. "I've had eggs prepared by trained chefs my whole life. But no one ever taught me how to make them myself."
"Your family had staff."
"My family had staff," he agreed. "For everything. I've never cooked, never cleaned, never done laundry. I don't even know how to buy groceries." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I'm twenty-six years old and completely useless."
"You're not useless. You're just untrained." I set my plate in the sink. "There's a difference."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Thank you," he said finally. "For breakfast. And for—everything else."
"Don't mention it." I glanced at the clock. "I need to get ready for work. Bathroom's through the bedroom."
"I know. I'll just—" He gestured vaguely. "Wait."
I showered quickly—five minutes, military efficiency—and emerged to find Tobias hovering near the bedroom door.
"Bathroom's free."
"Thanks."
He slipped past me. I heard the door close, the lock click.
I got dressed, checked my phone for work messages, and waited.
And waited.
Twenty minutes later, I knocked on the bathroom door.
"Tobias. I need to leave in ten minutes."
"Almost done!"
