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It takes money to make money.
Hence why I have none.
Chapter Seven
Knock, knock.
I glance up. “Come in.”
Mr. Masters puts his head around the door. "Nightcap, Bree?"
I smile. Bree. He called me Bree.
“Erm.” I scratch my head, glance back at my book, and then back at him. God, I’m at a really good part of my book and they are just about to get it on.
“If you would rather read your book, don’t worry about it,” he snaps quietly.
“Look at you, getting all annoyed.” I smile. “I’m not annoyed.” I hold my fingers up and pinch the air. “Little bit?”
He looks at me, deadpan. "Nightcap or not?"
“Yes. That would be lovely, thanks.” He turns and walks back to the kitchen and I follow him. My stomach does a nervous jitterbug dance as I take a seat at the kitchen counter.
He pours us a glass of red wine each, handing me mine.
We clink glasses and I smile. “I can’t stay long. One glass only.”
He raises a brow. “Are you brushing me off for your book?”
“Completely. Don’t be offended. I would brush Superman off for this book.”
He smiles and takes a seat opposite me. We sit in silence for a moment, neither of us sure what to say.
“Where are you going on your trip tomorrow?” I ask.
“Kent.”
“Ah.” I sip my wine, and then eye it in the crystal glass. “Hmm, this is delicious.” “I have good taste.”
“Obviously.” I wink. “You hired me.”
“Sight unseen.” He smirks.
I giggle. “Kent is where Dover Castle is.”
“Yes. Have you been?” he asks, seeming surprised that I know this.
“No, but I want to. It’s on my to do list while I’m here. Its history fascinates me.”
“Why is that?”
“The Archbishop was slaughtered there in front of his altar by King Henry’s Household Knights.”
A frown crosses his face. “History buff, are you?”
I smile. “Perhaps. It was one of the reasons that Emerson and I wanted to come here. We love old buildings and history. We don’t have anything like that in Australia. Australia has only been a country for three-hundred or so years. The only old thing we have a lot of back home are tombstones.”
He sips his drink and licks the red wine from his bottom lip.
