She looked amused. ‘The unmade bed wasn’t your first clue?’
‘You have to admit, apart from that, this place is spotless.’
She shrugged. ‘So? I like a clean house.’
‘There’s clean, and then there’s barely lived in.’
‘Are you judging the way I live?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘Good.’
‘I hope you don’t mind a dirty kitchen,’ I told her, taking off my jacket and rolling up my sleeves. ‘If I promise to clean it up afterwards.’
‘After what?’
He waved a hand. ‘Why don’t you get dressed, or have a shower or whatever you need to do, while I…’ I opened the fridge and scanned the contents. ‘Jackpot.’ I reached in and pulled out a packet of bacon. ‘Got any eggs?’
She pointed towards a small, overhead cupboard.
‘I’ll rustle us up some breakfast.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘Oh, I’m not doing it for your benefit,’ I teased, finding a frying pan in a drawer and puling it out. ‘I’m starving. Been up since the crack of dawn. Unlike some people.’
‘Hey, some people have just come off working their first week of a new job,’ she protested. ‘I’ve met so many people this week and I can’t only remember half of their names. There’s just so much to take in. New procedures, new systems. I thought I was pretty technically competent, but the system they use here is painful. I lost a whole day’s notes yesterday and I still don’t know why.’
She looked so mournful, standing there in her pajamas with her hair a tousled mess. She was one of the most adorable sights I’d ever seen. ‘They probably have outdated software compared to what you’re used to in the big city.’
‘Maybe. I still felt awful though. Really stupid.’
I put the frying pan down and gave her a stern look. ‘I’ve seen you in action. You are not stupid.’
She sighed. ‘Action. Yeah right. Chance would be a fine thing.’
I snorted.
‘I didn’t mean…’ she stammered. ‘I wasn’t talking about…’
‘I know. Go. Shower.’
I hummed to myself as I fried the bacon until it was crispy and caramelized but not too crispy. I didn’t like my bacon hard and chewy and hoped that Mae didn’t either. The sound of the shower turned off right as the last pieces of toast popped. I buttered them and plated up two serves of buttered sourdough toast, poached eggs, the bacon and slices of an avocado that I’d found in the fridge.
The cottage was tiny, but there was a small table for two in the living room, next to a window. The place had windows on all sides, offering an impressive view of the beach and the ocean. I set the table with cutlery and glasses of water and had just turned the coffee machine on to brew when the bathroom door opened. Steam wafted out into the lounge, followed by a robe-clad Mae, a towel twisted up the top of her head.
‘Something smells amazing,’ she groaned. ‘My stomach is rumbling.’
I popped the plate down onto the table.
‘Perfect timing,’ I told her. ‘Breakfast is served.’ I pulled out one of the chairs and gave a little wave. ‘Please, have a seat.’
She sat down, then sniffed the air as I pushed her chair in. ‘Is that…realcoffee I smell?’
‘As opposed to?’
‘The instant packet stuff I’ve been drinking all week because I’ve been too tired to find, read and figure out the instructions for the coffee machine that came with this place,’ she admitted. ‘The landlord was really nice and stocked coffee and milk supplies for when I arrived.’
