Page 66 of A Break in Communications

She pursed her lips, looking away. “Just because of what I said, doesn’t mean I’m not… it’s… ugh—forget it,” she said, waving me off, turning back to the chili. “This is probably as good as it’s going to get. You go sit down and I’ll serve you a bowl, bring your grandmother some, and I’ll come back to go over the long-term care plans with you or, if you’re asleep then, I’ll just stay here and do some work so I can be on standby if you keel over or something.”

“I can serve myself a bowl—”

“Go put your ass in the chair, Masters.”

Something about my last name suddenly had a more flirtatious edge to it than it normally had. Or maybe it was just my imagination, seeing as how this whole thing was just a fever dream anyway. I guess I was still drunk on the fever dream of itall, because I smiled at her and said, “Try not to spend too much time thinking about my ass, Preston.”

She turned back to the cupboard, pulling down a bowl and starting about serving it, and said, “I’ll think about what I like. What, are you going to tell me to stop?”

Well, I’d be cooperative and sit down after all if that was how we were doing this. I turned around slowly, arching my back a little as I walked with a bit of a hip sway to my chair. “Not at all,” I said. “Feel free to look if you want inspiration.”

She had a bowl of chili set down for me before long, and she wasn’t done treating me, because she packed up a big glass container of it and turned to the door, mirroring my posture with her back to me. “I’m going to take this and be back soon,” she said, looking over her shoulder at me, where I was fully staring at her ass.

“Making sure I spend that whole time thinking about you?”

“Fair’s fair. As if you’d stop thinking about me either way, though.”

She had me read for filth, but did she have to point it out?

Well, it wasn’t like I was being subtle. “I’ll miss you,” I called after her as she slipped through the door and into the foyer. Her voice called back distantly.

“If you’re lucky, I might even miss you too,” she said, and as I tucked into an absolutely delicious bowl of chili, I thought about how thatdidsound like a very lucky experience.

Honestly, Anna Preston might have had me beat. She knew how to make some damn good food. Even Grandma would be happy. Wished I could be there to see it, but—well, she’d pretend to be crotchety and hate it if I were there watching, anyway. I’d have to step up my cooking game if I wanted to keep Anna on the back foot. I knew she wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d rolled over and let her take a victory, anyway.

I might have just been biased because I was in love with her, though. But that was details.

I cleaned up the dishes once I was done, and I didn’t want to lose in this whole thing, so I popped into the car and headed to the shop down the street, grabbing what I needed—just a little something to get a leg up on Anna Preston—and when I finished setting up in the cozy nook by the window in the bedroom with some freshly purchased Guatemalan single-origin coffee, I got my laptop, sat down in the nook I’d stocked full of pillows and blankets, and I took my laptop to take advantage of the second to get back to my work.

Or I tried, anyway. The numbers and designs swam on the pages, and the gently drifting snowflakes picking up outside the window, night settling in at the edges of the horizon, it lulled me into a false sense of security, and it tricked me into setting the laptop aside to close my eyes and rest my head on the pillow for just one second, and the next thing I knew, I was stirring from a light sleep to the sound of the bedroom door opening, Anna’s voice coming in.

“Lucy?” she called softly. “Tell me you’re not working in here.”

I was supposed to be—I jolted back to awareness, looking at my laptop, and I sat up to where Anna pushed into the room, stopping with a double take, blinking fast.

“Masters… you spend a lot of time sleeping on the floor?”

Can’t have been out for more than ten minutes—my coffee was still warm, and I clutched it as I stood up. “Was… taking advantage of the opening you’d left me and trying to catch up on your schemes, of course.”

Anna put her hands on her hips, standing in the doorway with a stern look. She could have given me a stern look anytime… “You were working,” she said. “Do you know how to rest? Ever?”

“And let you get ahead?” I smiled, folding my arms. “Besides, don’t you like a girl who’s good at her work?”

“Ha.” Anna looked away, rolling her eyes with a dry smile. “Whatever. Judging by your hair, your body decided to take a nap for you.”

“I was just closing my eyes to reflect deeply on the nature of the work.”

She laughed. “I’m going to smack you,” she said good-naturedly. “Fine. Admittedly, I would really start worrying about you if you actually took off from work. Your grandmother’s doing well. Said the chili wasfine enough, she supposes.”

I whistled low. “Damn, woman might start trying to marry you herself. Never seen her so obsessed with somebody.”

Anna made a face. “Look, I don’t mind older women, but… there’s a limit.”

“Thanks for the chili. From both of us, since I assume she didn’t say thank you. And, uh… thanks. For all the help.” I looked away. “I’m not good at saying the wordsthank you, so I decided to one-up you instead.”

Anna’s shoulders fell. “Oh, god, Lucy, what did you do?”

“Don’t typically lie on the floor. But a little bird told me you really like nestling in a cozy little nook with a good book and a lot of pillows to watch the snow fall.” I stepped out of the way, gesturing her to the setup, mattress topper laid on the floor with thick, fuzzy quilts and pillows, some of which I’d had to buy new to get Anna Preston-worthy levels of coziness. “Was picking up more coffee while I was out, and I saw they had the Guatemalan… so I figured I might as well.”

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