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“I know you don’t know how to get back to the kitchen,” he laughed.
“I just don’t know which way to go. I can figure it out on my own,” I muttered. I just needed to figure out left or right, after that, I could find my way.
“Well, just humor me and let me walk with you then, yeah? You can lead the way.” He kept his hand reached out to me.
“Do we have to hold hands to do it?”
He dropped his hand. “No, but I figure since the place is so huge that we don’t want to lose each other.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha
, ha.” I decided to go left, but a hand grabbed my elbow and wheeled me around to the right.
“Maybe we should try this way,” Marco suggested.
“I thought I was the one who got to lead the way,” I laughed.
“You are.”
We headed down the hallway, and things were looking familiar. We made it to the top of the stairs, and my nose picked up the delicious scent of grilled burgers.
“How on earth is your chef already cooking our food?” I asked. Not that I was complaining, but it was pretty impressive that I could already smell it.
“Because she was waiting for me to call. I was actually on the way to your room to check on you when you stepped out.”
“So, you were hanging out by my room,” I muttered.
We walked into the kitchen, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a pretty woman standing by the stove.
“Hello, sir,” the woman called. “Your food should be ready in ten minutes.”
“Told you,” Marco smirked.
The chef smiled at me. “Is there anything else you might be craving?” she asked me.
Everything. It was amazing how no matter what food was in front of me or suggested, it sounded delicious. “Uh, some spicy pickles?” I mean, could you really eat a burger with no pickle?
The woman smiled wide. “We happen to have a few jars in the fridge. They happen to be a favorite of mine, too.”
“I’m Royal.” It felt right to introduce myself to her. I wasn’t sure if that was proper etiquette, but honestly? I wasn’t someone like Marco who was used to having a chef or a staff.
“And I’m Bristol.” She flipped the burgers on the griddle. “It’s nice to meet a guest of Mr. Marco’s.”
I raised my eyebrows at Marco. I was a guest, huh? That was news to me. “Uh, yes. It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Do you want something to drink?” Marco asked.
“Do you actually know where the fridge is?” I asked. Marco seemed to be pretty clueless to most other things about the house, so I wasn’t sure if he actually knew what a fridge was.
Marco grunted while Bristol muffled her laughter with the back of her hand.
“I think I can manage getting you a drink,” he grumbled. He moved to the fridge and opened the doors. “Water? Tea?” He grabbed a pitcher from the fridge and held it up to the light. “And whatever this pink shit is.”
“Lemonade with strawberry puree,” Bristol called. “I just made it.”
“That sounds amazing.” Homemade strawberry lemonade? Wow.
Marco set the pitcher on the counter and reached into a cabinet for glasses.
