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“Drugs, mostly.” He turns on the drill and powers a screw into the wall.
I decide not to press him on that. He’s either joking or my donut shop is being constructed by a bunch of dealers. Either way, ignorance is bliss.
I toss my stuff down and get to work, sweeping up, putting together signs, hanging a chalkboard on the wall, keeping busy. The place is coming together, though it has a long way to go before it’s ready to open. When I’m starting to think about lunch, Nolan appears in the front door and summarily dismisses Roger and his guys. “Get some food, come back in a couple hours.” Nolan hands each guy some cash on the way out.
I lean against the half-finished display case, arms crossed. “Are you going to throw some of that money at me, too?”
“Only if you ask nicely.” He walks over once we’re alone and tucks a hundred-dollar bill into my waistband. “Here you are, my love.”
I crumple it up and toss it aside. “Don’t be a dick. What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to see my wife. Is that so surprising?”
“Yes.” I remain glaring. “Are you always up and out so early?”
His smile is infuriating. “Did you want to have lunch together? I can work that into my schedule if it’s what you prefer.”
“No,” I say, grimacing. “I was only curious.”
“Then yes, most days I’m up early. I don’t sleep all that well.” He drifts pats me. “Happy with the work Roger’s been doing?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, afraid that if there’s any hint of dissatisfaction then Roger will end up with a bullet in his head.
“Good.” Nolan glances at me. “Show me around. I’d love to get a feel for my investment.”
I grind my jaw but acquiesce. “Here’s the front,” I say, gesturing around. “Cash register. Seating. That sort of thing.”
“Looks great.”
I lead him into the back. “This is where we’ll do the baking. Donuts, pastries, that sort of thing. Maybe breakfast sandwiches when we’re up and running.”
“You’re already thinking about how to expand. I’m impressed.”
“It’s a breakfast place. The menu’s pretty standard.”
“Still.” He runs a hand over a workbench. “How much of this did you design?”
I soften a bit. “All of it,” I admit. “Jamila was into the big ideas, which left me with the details.”
“How’d you learn how to set up an industrial kitchen?”
“The place was halfway finished when we moved in because of the I. Mostly I had to look up stuff online, like read a bunch of articles, a couple books, watched some videos. That sort of thing.”
He nods, looking impressed. “I have professional chefs that work for me who couldn’t do something like this.”
“It’s not ready,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. I’m not used to this much positive attention.
“It’ll be great when it’s done.” He faces me, eyes locked onto mine. “I’m already proud of you.”
I flush, feeling bizarrely happy to hear him that it, even though it’s coming out of nowhere. “I haven’t even opened yet,” I mumble, looking down at the floor. “But thanks. I guess. Even though that’s super weird.”
“You’re my wife.” He comes closer. “I want you to know how I feel.”
“I didn’t realize a man like youhadfeelings.”
He laughs and stops inches from me. “I feel plenty, my something.” His voice is pitched low. “I feel too much.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you. Wanting to have sex isn’t an emotion.”
