Page 22 of His Reckoning

Her head snaps up, and she looks around wildly for a second before her eyes land on me.

“Oh my God,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“You fell asleep on the counter.”

“That’s because your apartment is aggressively comfortable.”

“That’s a new complaint.”

She blinks a few times, clearly trying to wake up. Her gaze drifts to the coffee machine, then back to me. “Is that the machine that tried to kill me yesterday?”

“I’m sure it didn’t try to kill you.”

“It spoke Italian.”

“That’s the settings menu.”

“It felt unnecessary for coffee.”

I reach for a cup. “It’s an espresso machine.”

She watches for a moment as I press a few buttons. The machine hums to life.

“Okay,” she says slowly, sliding off the stool and walking over. “You’re going to have to explain what you just did.”

“Did you just press random buttons yesterday?” I ask, though I’m sure I know the answer.

She leans closer, squinting at the panel. “There are too many options.”

“Most of them make coffee.”

“Thanks Captain Obvious.”

I slide a second cup under the dispenser. “What had you up so late?”

She glances toward the laptop. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“That’s not what it looked like five seconds ago.”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“On the keyboard.”

“Strategic resting.”

I hand her the cup. She takes it with alarming speed.

“Okay,” she says after the first sip. “You’re forgiven.”

“For what?”

“For owning this terrifying machine.”

I shift back against the granite. “So, you stayed up all night writing?”

She looks at the laptop again, then shrugs. “Something like that.”

“You don’t look thrilled.”