Kieran raised his hands defensively. “Well, it’s not!”
Natasha sighed with what sounded like good-natured exasperation. “Well, he’s got a point. I can categorically say it’s not haunted.”
“Good to know,” Max muttered, bemused.
“You probably already know from the website, but there’s a shared kitchen with the other apartment on this floor,” Natasha said, pointing at a door. “It’s through there, and you can lock the door from either side. There’s some food in there for you, too – anything marked ‘Max’ is yours.”
“Thanks,” said Max. “I appreciate it,” he added, feeling like he should be a little friendlier. They reallywerenice people, and they didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of his sleep-deprived grumpiness.
“If you need anything, just sing out,” said Natasha.
“Enjoy!” Kieran added cheerily, and he closed the front door behind Max – but not before Max caught a glimpse of his eyebrows pulling together in a return of his earlier confusion, or before he saw Natasha’s expression that clearly saidYou’re going to tell me what all that weirdness was about, mister.
Frankly, Max would’ve been happy if Kieran had cluedhimin, as well. He had no idea what it was about him that was apparently triggering Kieran’s suspicions. Unless Kieran had a secret sense for detecting undercover food critics, then there really wasn’t anything unusual about him.
Well, he supposed, therewasthe fact that his mom could turn into a lion whenever she felt like it. Or the fact that his father had bailed when Max was four, leaving him and his mom with plenty of money, but no explanations.
And then there was his ability to pass undetected in the world. To be, for want of a better word,forgettable.
He wasn’t quite sure how he did it, to be honest. It wasn’t like helookedforgettable – he was much taller than average, and his eyes were so dark as to be almost black, while his hair was a comparatively light brown. He knew that he stood out.
Yet, if he put his mind to it, he could pass through a crowd almost as if he wasn’t there. People’s eyes slid right over him – or if they did make eye contact, they seemed to forget about him after a minute or two. Not entirely, but enough to be vague about what he looked like, or to forget the specifics of the conversation.
It wasn’t a power that he liked to use, since he didn’t want to mess with people, but it had come in handy in small doses – mostly keeping out of trouble when he hadn’t wanted the teacher to call on him in high school, and now, making sure that people didn’t catch on to his identity when he was reviewing a restaurant.
Okay,he thought, wincing,there are plenty of unusual things about me. But none of those are things that some random B&B owner should be able to sense just from seeing me down the other end of a corridor. AndIcan’t turn into a lion – I’m just a regular guy.
The sudden reminder of the things he was always doing his best to forget soured his mood further, and he dumped his bag on the bedroom floor, barely taking in his surroundings. He would’ve almost preferred to be in one of the dingy motels – at least he wouldn’t have felt like he was wasting his money by brooding about his family issues in such a nice place.
I suppose I’ll have to drive back into town to get something to eat,he thought glumly, the idea of going back out into the snow unappealing now that he was here in his cozy room.Although I guess I should see what’s in the kitchen.
It probably wouldn’t be enough for a full meal, but at least it would be something. He was just starting to realize that he wasravenousafter the day of driving.
He pressed his ear to the kitchen door, trying to work out if there was anyone in there –
And, for the second time in the past twenty minutes he almost jumped out of his skin, this time due to a knock at the front door.
Taking a moment to get himself together, he opened the front door, only to see Natasha. Clearly she was adept at moving quietly.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that the guest in the other room has just had to cancel, so you’ll have the kitchen to yourself.”
Max perked up. Suddenly, the day was sounding a lot better.
“Feel free to eat any of the extra food,” Natasha went on. “It’ll just go stale anyway, and Sylvie, our baker, always gives us way more than we can get through on our own.”
Sylvie? Sylvie does the catering here?
Max mentally upgraded his day from ‘sounding better’ to ‘freaking fantastic’. If he could spend the evening lying around and eating Sylvie’s cakes while reading a good book and watching the snow fall outside the window… well, that sounded pretty good to him.
Thanking Natasha, he went into the kitchen to take a look around.
And… wow.
What Natasha had referred to as ‘some food’ was more like a feast, even without the food that had been intended for the otherguests. The fridge was crammed full of fresh produce, and a table practically groaned under the weight of more baked goods than a family of four could reasonably get through in a week, all of them in boxes stamped with the logo of Sylvie’s Sweets and Bakery.
Well, perhaps I’m exaggerating just a little,he thought, as he stared hungrily at the assortment of boxes.But only a little.
The only problem facing him now, really, was deciding where to start. Eventually, he just picked a box at random and opened it.
