AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Urk…Don’t think about that…focus on getting a little bit past your lips…
Angus won’t stop watching, his brown eyes wide with way too much anticipation.
I take a careful sip.
Tangy, slippery, with…spicy, chewy bits?
“Mmm…” There is no way I’m making the correct facial expression. “Is that…cloves?”
“Damn!” Angus slaps the countertop with his palm. “You’re good.”
He picks up his own tankard and chugs so much of it that his formerly flat belly grows a little bulge.
Angus is fit and tan, with a lot of shaggy brown hair. He’s pretty good-looking, to the point that at least half the women who date him would still say yes if he was just a millionaire instead of a billionaire. Unless a billionaire happened to walk by.
He can be charming, too, when he’s full of energy, beaming like the sun and spewing clever ideas. His plans are grandiose and pretty amazing. When they’re not completely bonkers.
He can also be a raging asshole. His tempers are legendary, and everybody knows to run and hide until it blows over. Except for me, because I can’t.
His tankard drained, Angus pats his belly and burps. The bulge disappears.
“I know why you’re here,” he says, shaking a finger at me.
My throat closes up. “You do?”
“Don’t worry, I forgive you.”
Warmth spreads in my chest, and my throat relaxes enough that I start babbling. “God, thank you, because I swear, I regretted itimmediately?—“
“But next time,” Angus interrupts, “don’t keep something like that from me, Theo! I know you’re my employee, but we’re also friends. I would expect you to share things like that with me, especially a guy you’ve been dating forsix months!Who seems extremely committed…”
He lets that sentence hang, eyebrow raised, while I sink all over again, realizing we weren’t talking about the same thing.
Sternly, Angus says, “I don’t want any secrets between us, Theo. You’re one of the only people I can trust.”
Oh, god.
He’s mad that I didn’t tell him about a fake boyfriend.
He’ll be so much more pissed about my non-existent diploma.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“All is forgiven,” Angus says magnanimously. Then, brightly, he adds, “Hey, while you’re here, want to whip me up some crepes real quick?”
“Sure,” I say, grateful for the reprieve and the chance to use Angus’ state-of-the-art kitchen again.
There’s nothing “quick” about whipping up crepes, especially ones made the way Angus likes them, with Meyer lemon sauce, hand-beaten cream, and a drizzle of brown-butter caramel.
But that’s just fine with me. I’d rather cook than do almost anything else, and right now, Imuchprefer it over trying to fix the mess I made.
Plus, Angus will be much more forgiving after he tastes my crepes.
You can’t fire someone who makes these crepes.
Please tell me you can’t fire someone who makes these crepes…
While I’m cooking, Angus tries to subtly grill me about Sullivan in a way that isn’t subtle at all.
