Something he had experienced earlier in the week as well, since they had tested both crust and filling options one time each, which Milo believed was enough for him to perfect the recipe to where he wanted. He didn’t want to let Rowan taste the combination, however, or his final tweaks until Saturday.
“You’re sure nothing is bothering you?” Rowan asked.
Milo realized he had plated twice the amount of food Rowan would normally consume. Multitasking was especially difficultwhen one’s thoughts were scattered with secret plans and outright lies. “Sorry! Maybe I’m becoming too human. My mind keeps trying to wander.”
As Milo brought Rowan his dinner—this time as a reasonable portion—he was almost certain Rowan was scrutinizing him again, suspecting, but all Milo could do was hope it was paranoid and that, come the day, Rowan would be surprised.
And hopefullylikebeing surprised.
“He’s gonna hate this.”
Milo bristled. He did like Riley, hedid, but whether over text or now in person, lying in wait for Rowan to return home for the main event they had been preparing all week, she was really fucking hard to tolerate!
Milo took a breath—a moment—like Rowan had taught him.
Although cursing, even if only in his head, was quite fun.
“I disagree,” he said. “Rowan might be uncertain at first, but he will like this.”
He had to.
Milo, Riley, Raina, Troy, and a dormantly waiting Anabelle, who would otherwise be helping serve snacks and cake later, were all in the living room, not hiding yet, but close enough to their chosen spots. Milo had control of the lights, so no one needed to be by a switch to make things go dark.
He had smartly put Spot in the bedroom—at least for now—after very proudly having introduced her to everyone, Raina in particular, who had snorted at the name.
“How muchlonger?” Riley groused. She was definitely the most like Rowan, but in Milo’s opinion, not in the same likeable way.
“Ethel should be back any minute,” Milo explained.
It was a flawless plan. Rowan was used to Ethel making demands of him and intercepting him while coming home. Milo had very casually mentioned that in celebration of Rowan’s birthday—the first he had mentioned it all week—he was hoping to bake him pie with ice cream, but he had forgotten to get ice cream with the weekly groceries.
“I really do want to catch up on chores though so we can enjoy today…” Milo had lamented.
“I can go grab some ice cream,” Rowan had offered—just like Milo knew he would. “What kind?”
“Cinnamon and lemon bar, please!”
“For the pie? Really?”
“Trust me. We’ll need both.”
There was a corner store for such things, not nearly as far away as they shopped sometimes for other groceries, so Ethel’s job was to “run into” Rowan on his way back and ask him to finish hauling her trash to the building’s dumpster.
If she’d done her job correctly, she should be bringing up the ice cream in Rowan’s stead, giving them just enough of a head’s up to get into place.
“Andyouplanned all this?” Riley asked Milo. She had been asking quite a few questions since he’d added her to the text thread. “Without your master’s knowledge?”
Milo managed to not flinch at the use ofmaster. “I am a truly exceptional bot, Superintendent Riley.”
“Right…”
The front door opening alerted Milo immediately.
Ethel.
“Mission accomplished!” she announced as she hurried inside, tubs of cinnamon and lemon bar ice cream in hand. “There may be a bite or two taken out of these already, but pay that no mind.”
Raina snorted, Riley frowned, and Troy looked… scandalized?
