Page 76 of Cruel Dominion

Upstairs in James’ condo, Summer and I sat at the barstools at his breakfast bar picking at chocolate chips and berries as he put together the soufflé pancakes, hunching over his phone to confirm the recipe with each step.

“So how did the meeting with that photographer go?” Summer asked, sipping her mimosa.

I made a barfing sound.

“What was that?” she asked with a laugh, cocking her head with a crinkle to her eyes.

“It was a flop,” I explained, remembering Jaden’s hand on my thigh.

I grimaced.

Apparently, he’d taken off. I’d looked it up yesterday, terrified I might find a headline that read ‘Celebrity Photographer Found Dead in His Midtown Studio,’ but instead there was only a short article that read ‘Celebrity Clients Left to Flounder in Wake of Photographer Shutting Down his Midtown Studio Without Notice.’

Good. He should run. I didn’t want to think about what Carter might do to him if he’d stayed.

“What happened?”

“He thought that us working together meant he was going to get favors,” I admitted.

Summer rolled her eyes, groaning. “Men.”

“Men,” I agreed, glad she wasn’t prying anymore into what happened.

“They’re all the same, aren’t they?”

“Who are all the same, honey?” James asked, tuning into the conversation.

Summer recounted my story.

“This guy who offered to help Anna with her photography just did it to try and get in her pants. And I meant most men, Jamesy. Not you, obviously.”

“He what?” James actually looked genuinely disgusted. “What an asshole.”

He served up the thick, fluffy pancakes, telling us to wait for him to grab the whipped cream from the fridge, then dolloping out a helping for each of us. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. So that’s dead in the water. I’m on my own now. Again.”

“Will breakfast help?”

I laughed. It was a good start.

This was probably the most ‘normal’ meal in ‘normal’ company I’d had since I got home.

“Bon appétit,” James said, staying on the other side of the breakfast bar. I noticed his eyes on us as we tried our pancakes, anxiously jumping between me, then Summer, then back again. Summer took a bite, then gasped.

“Oh my god, babe, this is delicious.”

“Yeah?” A wide smile spread across his face.

I tried mine, slicing through the fluffy pancake, getting a bit of the cream. It melted in my mouth. I hummed with pleasure, getting another bite, spearing some berries for some sweet tartness.

“That’s insane, how did you get it so fluffy?”

“A chef never shares his secrets,” he said with mock seriousness, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder. “But I’m glad you like them.”

We paused to eat, discussing how he got the cakes so thick but so light at the same time. Summer conspiratorially promised to swipe the recipe link from his phone and send it to me when he wasn’t looking.

“Can I ask you something?” James hedged after washing the pan and utensils.

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