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“Sure, I’ll just have Victoria pack you a breakfast burrito to go.”
“She doesn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged. “It’s already made. I guess I could force myself to eat another, if you really don’t want it.”
Her traitorous stomach growled loudly, and he laughed, proving he’d heard it.
“If it’s already made, I will take it. I wouldn’t want to be rude.”
He saluted her with one hand against his forehead. “I’ll see you up at the main house in fifteen minutes then. We don’t want to be late.”
She closed the door on him, and mimicked him as she walked down the hallway. “We don’t want to be late.”
Rylie set the mug down on the counter and grimaced when she saw the indentation marks on her cheeks and chin from the pillow she’d slept on.
I really need to stop worrying about what he may think of me.
She’d gotten cleaned up and dressed in record time. Sporting a blue dress with white polka dots, a wide yellow belt, and white wedges, she wrapped her wet hair into a bun on top of her head. She didn’t have time for full makeup, so she just put on some mascara and lip gloss. She’d packed a change of clothes and her tennis shoes in her large, yellow and white striped tote in case they did some more scouting today, but she needed to wear her dress. It was like a suit of armor; it made her feel strong and confident.
Which were two things she could use a boost on today.
When she walked through the door of the big house a few minutes later with her coffee cup in one hand and tote in the other, she was greeted by a short, older woman with blue-black hair and a wide smile. She was wearing an apron covered in colorful hearts over a simple T-shirt and jeans. She was not what Rylie had pictured for Dustin’s chef and housekeeper.
Was I really expecting her to look like Megan Fox and wearing a French maid outfit?
“You must be Victoria,” Rylie said, holding her free hand out to her. “I’m Rylie. Your potatoes are wonderful! I need that recipe from you!”
Victoria took Rylie’s hand in both of hers and squeezed. “Of course! I am so glad you liked them.”
“I loved them.” Rylie held up the coffee cup. “Do you happen to have a to-go cup for this?”
“Oh, yes, let me warm it up for you.”
Rylie started to protest, but Victoria was too fast. She’d already put the mug in the microwave and was rummaging through the cupboard next to the sink.
“When Mr. Kent said he was having a guest staying in the pool house, I knew you were special.”
“Why is that?” Rylie asked, surprised.
Victoria grabbed the cup from the microwave and poured it into a black travel mug. “Because none of Mr. Kent’s usual guests stay in the pool house.”
Rylie’s cheeks warmed and she took the mug from Victoria with a snort. “You don’t say?”
“Yes, but you know, it’s none of my business what the man does. That’s why I don’t say anything. Not a word.” Then, Victoria leaned over and lowered her voice. “I will say that most of the women who stay are not worthy of Mr. Kent. He is a good man.”
Rylie had seen a bit of that man yesterday, and wondered if it was truly who he was, or just another image he portrayed to others. Was he the ladies’ man? The jerk? The nice guy who offered his home to women in need?
The sound of Dustin whistling interrupted them. He stood in the doorway, jingling his keys.
“Come on, let’s shake a leg. We have a lot to do to make up for yesterday.”
“She hasn’t even had her breakfast yet, Mr. Kent,” Victoria scolded.
“She can eat on the way.”
Victoria huffed as she pulled a pan from the oven and wrapped her burrito in tin foil. She slipped it into a paper sack and handed it to Rylie. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yes. Thank you for the coffee and the burrito,” Rylie said to Victoria.
