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“No,” she replied, giving the eggs a stir. “But considering the nature of my job, I thought it was appropriate to dress the part.”
He supposed that made sense. He didn’t like it, but he knew saying as much would probably not be very well-received. He couldn’t dictate what she wore, it was up to her to decide when she wanted to relinquish her armor.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t give her his opinion on her choice in garb though. “Great. As long as I wasn’t the one who unconsciously approved some draconian rule that dictated you had to dress like a seventeenth century governess.”
She made a choking sound, and her eyebrows shot to her hairline.
“It’s not that bad.”
“No, it’s worse. More like a workhouse schoolmarm.”
She couldn’t maintain her outrage, and a giggle escaped at those words.
“What did you do before your marriage?” He didn’t know where the question came from, but he instantly regretted it when it wiped the smile from her face.
“Not workhouse schoolmarming, that’s for sure,” she said, in a weak attempt at levity, and he forced a smile. She cleared her throat and removed the eggs from the stove and scraped them onto two plates. She set the plates aside and opened the oven to retrieve the bacon.
Miles didn’t push her for an answer, instead, he got up and poured a couple of mugs of coffee. He was happily surprised when she transported both plates to the banquette and placed them on the table. This would be the first time since his arrival that she joined him for breakfast.
She added a bowl of mushrooms and a plate of grilled tomatoes to the table and sat down.
“How do you take your coffee?” he asked.
“Black, one sugar.”
He joined her at the table and grinned when he saw the spread she had laid out. “This looks amazing.”
“I’ve been wondering what triggered your sudden aversion toward boiled eggs.”
“I’ve had the same thing for breakfast for fourteen years,” he muttered, spearing his fork into the fluffy eggs. “I didn’t see the point in having anything different. I’m a creature of habit. Some would call me boring, I suppose.”
“Some?” she repeated. “Like who?”
“Vicki has called me stuffy a few times. Hugh has accused me of lacking imagination. One of my…uh, intimate acquaintances flat out told me the sex was great, but the conversation abysmal. Those are all fair comments.”
“No, they’re not.” He quite enjoyed how affronted she appeared on his behalf. “They’re totally wrong. Well, in Vicki’s case, you’re her big brother, you raised her, I’m afraid being called stuffy comes with the territory. And why would Hugh accuse you of lacking imagination when you love fantasy novels so much? It seems like a complete contradiction.”
“Well, nobody else actually knows about the fantasy novels. They all think I’m listening to economic podcasts. I’ve never seen fit to correct them.”
“That’s a big chunk of yourself to withhold from your family, Miles.”
“It’s personal,” he felt compelled to defend himself.
“It’s your family.” Considering the huge secrets she was keeping from her family, she should be the last to criticize. She seemed to grasp the innate hypocrisy of her words at the same time he did and went bright red before continuing. “And as for that intimate acquaintance…wait, you mean lover, right? Why would you call her a mere acquaintance?”
“The word lover implies more than just sex, it indicates a depth of feeling that has never been present in my interactions with my sexual partners.”
She stared at him silently for a long, awkward moment, and he nearly gave in to the urge to tell her that she would be different. Not a mere acquaintance but so much more than that.
Fortunately, she spoke before he could say something truly cringeworthy. “Well, this acquaintance sounds like a dumbass.”
“She holds a doctorate in nuclear physics,” he said, keeping his voice grave, even though he felt like grinning like an idiot at her vehement defense of him.
“Nuclear physics? Okay, a brainy dumbass then. I may not be a nuclear physicist or anything, so maybe it won’t mean much, but I don’t find your conversation abysmal at all. I think you’re a very interesting man.”
He coughed to cover up a chuckle and stared hard at his plate, before nodding gravely. “It means a hell of a lot, thank you. Anyway, as I was saying…I’m a creature of habit. I don’t have a very adventurous palate. I know what I like, so I stick with it. No chance of disappointment that way. I take very few personal risks. And even less risks in business.
“I think that’s why Hugh accused me of lacking imagination. He’s been pushing me to make riskier moves, gamble as it were. But I hate making reckless decisions with my business. Yes, taking a gamble can pay off in spades. But we don’t have to take stupid risks, we’re doing fine. I dislike the notion of failure, of losing money. That’s not how I’m made. My acquisitions may be boring and safe…but they keep my company in the black. If something works for me, I stick with it.”
