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Time is money.
Lizzie supposed that most people learned lessons like these from their parents. Or at least form someone who spent time with them.
But Lizzie hadn’t. She’d learned such lessons on her own, usually the hard way.
Which made them more memorable, but sure did suck during the learning.
As she chopped and peeled and seared and baked, Lizzie wondered what she could learn from this new direction her life had taken.
In her experience, nothing good ever lasted, so she told herself not to get too attached. To either Maker or his kitchen.
Her mind understood the mission. Her heart definitely did not.
And that’s how Lizzie came to be staring out Maker’s kitchen window, daydreaming so hard, that she didn’t even hear that same man as he opened the front door and walked through the house.
And she didn’t hear his approach to the kitchen door.
She didn’t hear him prop against the door frame.
And she definitely didn’t hear how long he stood there, leaning with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the glorious fall of hair down her back.
Daydreaming about the same things she was.
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Nine
Nine sat in the small diner with his back against the wall.
The bell over the door tinkled, and he looked up to see May searching the room.
He held up a hand, and she made her way through the tables that separated them.
He thought she looked sweet in her jeans and pink tee, the clothes hugging her curves just right, and he realized that he’d never seen her in street clothes before.
Then she slid into the booth across from him.
“Thanks for coming,” Nine said, his voice quiet in the din of the room.
“Sure. Everything alright?” May asked, her eyes full of questions.
A waitress stopped by with menus, but Nine shook her off. “Just coffee for both of us.”
The waitress left to do the coffee thing, and Nine reached across the table for one of May’s hands. “I can’t stay long,” he said by way of explanation.
“Okay,” May said.
“I take our agreement very seriously,” Nine started.
“Me too,” May said, nodding.
“So I’ve got to give you the opportunity to dissolve it,” Nine said.
May frowned. “Why?”
Then she gasped, just a little. So quiet that Nine almost missed it. But he didn’t miss it, and he knew by the tiny sound that he’d hurt her. “Is there someone else?” May whispered, trying to pull her hand away.
But Nine didn’t let go. “No, there’s not. But there’s something I’ve got to do that, if you take the agreement seriously and literally, which I do, breaks it.”
