“Should we face the day?” I asked.
As answer, she gracefully leapt over me, as well as the side of the bed, and I watched her fluffy butt with lifted-high floofy tail saunter toward the bathroom.
I smiled, tossed the covers back and muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Thus, I swung out of bed and followed Snowball.
Thankfully, I’d learned the lesson a long time ago that I endeavored to teach Prudence last night.
Therefore, when I arrived at the breakfast table, I was wearing a pair of wide-legged, cropped white jeans, a slouchy, soft beige sweater French tucked, and a pair of peanut suede booties with a stacked block heel and pointed toe that had a slight Western flair in the panel stitching.
Yes, I looked like a well-heeled American (or at least I thought that was the look I was pulling off), because I was one.
Battle, fortunately (unfortunately?), was not at the breakfast table.
No one was.
But Prudence.
And God, I loved this chick.
Today she was wearing a black turtleneck that had the addition of a collar coming out of it that rose up over her ears giving her a petite female Count Dracula look.
That was all I could see since she was seated, but it was enough to absolutely adore it…and her for wearing it.
“Good morning,” I greeted while entering.
“Vivi!” she cried. “How did you sleep?”
“Snowball hogged the bed,” I told her as I sat next to her and reached for the ornate silver coffee pot.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “Do I need to lock her up? I don’t usually lock up my babies. They don’t like it. But you need to sleep.”
This made me pause in pouring, because, when I returned to my room last night, I’d closed my door.
I resumed pouring as I asked, “I closed my door, how did she get in?”
Prudence made a puh noise. “It drives Battie…well, batty.” She laughed. “But they’ve learned to open the doors. You have to lock them to keep them out. Though, if she wants to get to you, be sure to lock the door to the hallway in your dressing room too.”
“I don’t mind her joining me,” I said, putting the coffee down and reaching for the jug of creamer. Once I poured, I turned to her. “Do I get to meet the others?”
Her eyes lit with excitement. “You like animals?”
“Love them.”
“Then…absolutely,” she answered and waved a hand at the sideboard. “Oh, and just grab a plate and help yourself.”
I got up, querying, “Has everyone already come down?”
“Temperance, no. She sleeps until at least nine. Chastity, also no, she took a tray in her bedroom. And Battle, again no, he had his breakfast in the study. He has some computer meetings this morning. He’s not usually here during the week, and he works a lot, so we probably won’t see him until dinner.”
I was peeking under lids, but what she said made me stop and turn to her.
“He’s not normally here during the week?”
And no, I didn’t ask this because I was interested in all things Battle Talyn.
(But yes, I absolutely did.)
