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“I think you’re an artist who sees creative opportunities in everything you see and everyone you meet.”
Her flush vanished, and so did her scowlandreserved manner. Her smile lit the room stronger than the sunlight, at least to Devine.
“You look like you could use some coffee. And food.”
“I could, yes,” he said.
“Come on. I’ll make you breakfast.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s the least I can do for someone who entered but didn’t break, and who thought my studio would be as much of a safe haven for him as it is for...me.”
Her smile retreated with these words, and that bothered Devine far more than he had thought possible. He barely knew the woman, but he wanted to make her happy, to make her whole again.
They left her studio and she led him into the main house through a rear entrance that opened into a cathedral-sized kitchen.
“Damn,” said Devine. “How do you not get lost going from the fridge to the stove?”
“It comes with directions,” she quipped. “Seriously, the place was set up for a home with a dozen servants.”
“And how many do you have now?”
“You’re looking at her. I’ve got some eggs, fresh berries, ham, avocados, and home-baked sourdough.”
“All of that sounds great.”
She pointed to a cupboard. “Plates, utensils, and cups over there. How do you like your eggs?”
“Any way you care to make them.”
She brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and he helped her get the items out of the fridge.
“That looks new,” said Devine, staring at the Sub-Zero double wide.
“Courtesy of my dear, entrepreneurial brother. He’s been slowly fixing up the place.”
They decided on an omelet. He did the chopping and slicing of the onions, peppers, tomatoes, and mushrooms while she split and spooned out the avocado, put the fruit into a bowl, and put two slices of her sourdough in the toaster. She mixed the eggs and other items and cooked it in a stovetop pan.
Later, she sat across from him in the breakfast nook, sipped her coffee, and watched him chow down.
“Youwerehungry,” she observed.
He checked his watch. It was after ten.Shit.
“I usually eat before now. Where’s Dak?”
“Probably already at work.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“It’s a big house. He lives in one wing and I live in another.”
“And it all works?’
“So far.” She rapped on the tabletop. “So what happened last night? You said you had trouble with some guys? What kind of trouble?”
“Trouble enough.”
