“Sounds good. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. You know I love abusing your credit card and my position as your bestie. Sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news so early, though. You okay?”
I grunt.
“Do you think this will poorly affect your plans to see if Miss Mirabelle Peters is the kind of wife material you’re looking for?”
I sigh. “No. It’s…a good opportunity. To see how she can handle crap like this.” It’s just…
I’m very much already in love with her.
And if shecan’thandle crap like this?
My gaze finds her. Yet again. Because it’s addicted and I’m addicted and she is…she iseverything.
If she can’t handle crap like this, it will break my heart.
Chapter 7
?
Change sucks. But ramen is eternal.
Mirabelle
New job. New home. New, new, new.
This all happened so much faster than I expected.
This morning, Mr. Anders hired men to move us out and in, and it was bip, bam, boomdone. In, like, two hours. Fawn’s at work right now, and I guess I am, too, so she and I have lots of unpacking to do later, but I can’t focus on where everything is going to go at the moment. Right now, I have to make Mr. Anders lunch.
Because of moving, I missed making his breakfast at eight, but lunch is at noon, pre-workout is at four, and dinner is at seven—according to my notes based on the questions I asked him two weeks ago.
So help me, I’ll not be missing anything else on my first day as Mr. Anders’s housekeeper.
My sign-on bonus hit my bank account three days after we signed the contract two weeks ago.
I am being paidsowell.
Therefore, I will do a job worthy of my salary. Better, even. Because I’ve always sort of been teamone hundred and ten percent, even when my pay was a tiny drop in the pond of what it is now.
Tightening my apron, I begin unloading the groceries I got this morning amid the move with the ambition of a woman who has spent the past few weeks researching high-class recipes.
FYI: they’re full of alcohol.
Literally nothing I found lacked a white or a red or a sherry.
So…naturally…I’m making ramen today.
With half a dozen eggs, and three kinds of meat.
Because the man is a tank, and I can’t have him nutrient deficient on my first day.
“That is…a lot of meat.” Mr. Anders’s voice grouses into the kitchen while I’m sorting my ingredients for lunch from the ones I got for the rest of the week.
I smile at him. “It’s easy and filling protein.”
He rests his shoulder against the wall and folds his arms.
