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“No, this is my house and my space, and your time is my time. And your contract states that you should be serving me breakfast at five thirty a.m.”
“Really, who wakes up and has breakfast at five thirty?”
“I didn’t wake up at five thirty. I woke up at four thirty, and I had a swim. And now, I would like some coffee and breakfast.” He paused. “And actually, I think I’m going to have to show you how to make the coffee. I take it that’s something they didn’t teach you at the Culinary Institute in gay Paris,” he said, mocking me. I knew I shouldn’t laugh, but I couldn’t stop myself from giggling slightly under my breath. He did have a sense of humor. And even though he was a jerk and making fun of me, it was funny because I didn’t make a good cup of coffee. In fact, I didn’t make a good cup of anything or a good meal.
Well, that wasn’t technically true. I did know how to make the most amazing spaghetti Bolognese. But that was the only thing I could cook, and I didn’t think I could make that for him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner unless I told him I read some story from some doctor or something that said this was the healthiest meal in the world and you should eat it all the time if you wanted to live to a hundred. But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to buy that, no matter which doctor I said recommended it.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to head out, but I have a feeling you don’t know where my room is if Benedict didn’t tell you my schedule.”
“Benedict didn’t tell me anything,” I said, feeling annoyed. I thought that Benedict and I might have a chance of getting on, but the more I got to know him and know about him, the more I didn’t like him. I wished he had left along with Gladys. But, of course, I didn’t have that sort of luck. Benedict was still here. “Hey, Finn. If you leave the room, then I can come out and put my clothes on, and then I can make your breakfast.”
“You can’t put clothes on now?”
“No, because my clothes are in the bedroom. There are only towels in the bathroom, and I’m not going to make your breakfast in my towel.”
“Why not?” he said in an amused tone. “That sounds like it would be quite fun.”
“I’m sure you would think it was fun. What, you going to put me over your lap as well?”
“What did you just say?”
I froze. Had I said that out loud? “Nothing. I was just joking.”Please believe me.
“Really? Because it sounded to me like you wanted me to—”
“Nothing, Finn. Please leave the room.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. I heard footsteps, and then I let out a huge sigh of relief. This was not going as planned at all. This was turning into my worst nightmare. Not only was I not prepared for this, but he also wanted me to cook something so complicated that I knew Google was not going to be able to teach me in five minutes.
I took a deep breath. “It’s okay. You can do this, Harriet. If you put your back into it, you can do it,” I sang to myself and then groaned. Now was not the time to say stupid little raps in my head. I hurried into the bedroom, grabbed my clothes, got dressed, and walked outside. Finn was standing there, waiting, tapping his foot impatiently. He looked me up and down.
“Okay, so tomorrow morning, this isn’t going to happen, right?”
“I should hope not,” I said, glaring at him.
“Good, because I don’t want to have to come and wake you up again.”
“I’ll make sure I lock the door next time,” I said.
“Why would you do that?” he said, smirking. “You mean you didn’t want me to see your bush?”
“Excuse me?” My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened. He had not just said what I thought he’d said, had he?
“Let’s go and make my eggs Benedict,” he said, winking at me. “I’m very hungry.”
“What did you say just now?” I asked him quickly.
“Nothing,” he said. “Why? What do you think I said?” I just stared at him. He knew that I was not going to repeat the words I thought I heard.
“Nothing,” I said, smiling at him sweetly. “Let’s make your breakfast. And hey, maybe I’ll make you an amazing cup of coffee as well.”
ChapterTwelve
Checking Account Balance: $135
Savings Account Balance: $10
Boyfriend Count: 0
