“Just do what you’re told,” Jared told her. “It will make everything easier.”
“For you!”
“And for me,” North added.
A huff left her but she accepted another bite of food.
“Is there any coffee?” she asked.
“You’ve already had some,” Jared told her.
“One cup! I need more than one cup to survive.”
“No, you don’t. I think you should cut down. We could start with some decaf coffee, then move on to herbal tea.”
“Decaf coffee! I won’t put up with that sort of language,” she told him.
“What sort of language?” he asked, appearing startled.
“Decaf,” she hissed. “As far as I’m concerned it should be outlawed. What use is coffee without the caffeine? It’s like Homer Simpson without Marge.”
“Weird comparison,” North said.
“Weird but true. If there isn’t any, I can make some myself.”
“You will not,” Jared told her.
Sheesh. He was just full of orders, wasn’t he? He fed her another bite of food, then leaned back in his chair, studying her. “How many cups of coffee do you have a day?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“Guess,” he prompted.
Hmm. How many did she usually have? Three in the morning. Then another two in the early afternoon. Then three more. “About seven or eight, I guess.”
“That’s definitely too many. You’re cutting down to four.”
“What? No way!”
“Yes way,” Jared replied.
“Who is going to make me?” she demanded.
He leaned in close to her. “Me.”
She quickly swiped up the knife and held it out toward him, tucking it under his chin. “Yeah? You and whose army?”
Okay, so it was just a butter knife and blunt as heck. There was no way she could stab him with it, but it wasn’t like she actually wanted to stab him.
She just wanted to get her point across.
Coffee was important. And no one would get between her and her precious, precious brew.
“Oh, someone is choosing violence today,” North said.
Jared’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at her sternly. He didn’t seem at all perturbed by the knife.
“Why are you holding a butter knife to Jared’s chin?” North asked as he took a bite of scrambled eggs.
