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He shook his head, unsure of what the layout of his house had to do with a French fairy tale.
She sighed. “Never mind. I will. Thank you. And what are you going to do with your day?”
“Work. We’re administering exams.” Which meant his hangover wouldn’t be the same hindrance as if he actually had to give lectures. “At the University of Birmingham. Where I teach. Philosophy.”
Yes, rambling. That would impress her.
“Must be interesting.”
“It is.”
Unlike his responses. Bloody hell!
He made a quick decision. “I probably won’t be home until late.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been watching after myself for a long time,” she said.
He was sure she had. The problem was Jameson’s body wanted to take over those duties for her.
