Without looking up, he gestured to the table.“Have a seat.”
Oh.That wasn’t for him.How delightful.
With him behind her, she moseyed her way to the table.Oblivious to it before, she noted he’d cleared it off and set it for two.This man was downright domesticated.She wasn’t aware they still made those.
After depositing each glass before one setting, she took a seat opposite it, facing the kitchen.Fink dropped a plate before her.“Enjoy.”
“You’re not having any?”she asked.
He stepped back.“I still have to cook it.I’ll join you, but don’t wait for me.”
Glancing around, she noted her space was far tidier than when she’d gone to bed.The throw blankets she’d had strewn in balls on the couch were folded neatly.Her shelves had been dusted.
Furrowing her brow, she peered at him.“Did you clean?”
He surveyed the small apartment.“A little.There is only so much late-night TV one can watch.I might have to consult my doctor.Mesothelioma is going around.It’s apparently quite a lucrative affliction.”
She chortled in disbelief.This man was something else.
As he returned to the kitchen, she lifted her glass and sipped the citrus drink.
“So, how long will I be enjoying home-cooking and housekeeping?”she asked.
When would he take off that makeup?That question would have to wait.No matter how much she wanted to see the real him, there was a time and a place.He had to be comfortable.
Perhaps he had a port-wine stain across his face.Or maybe he concealed a hideous scar.She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his features.Things happened so quickly last night, but from what she could see, his skin was smooth.
What was underneath all that paint?
“I’m not sure,” he said from the other room.“It depends on the police and you.”
“What about them?”she asked, picking up a slice of cured meat and biting into it.
“Well, they’re going to question you.”
“Why?”
He peered at her from the kitchen with a spatula in hand.“You were employed there.”
“Previously,” she corrected.“I resigned.”
“As of when?”
“Last night.”
Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the frying pan on her stove.“Yeah, that’s not suspicious or anything.”
“It was a hostile working environment.”Though, in the end it was far worse for Mitchell than it had ever been for her.
Oops.
“What does that mean?”
“There were rumors about me sleeping with Mitchell,” she grumbled as she shifted in her chair.“Combine that with the fact that there were no opportunities for advancement, I figured why stick around?”
He hummed as he cooked.
“So I sent my resignation, went to check that he got it, and bam.”She clapped her hands together.“You.”
