Page 91 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“They know they’re cute, so they suck you in.”

But as I take in her adorable face and messy bun, I know I’m not going anywhere. Turning to Chad, I say, “Looks like I’m staying for dinner.”

With as much enthusiasm as he can muster while sick, he says, “Yay.”

“Come join the table, Chad,” she orders. I follow her to a small table that’s up against the wall with three chairs around it. She lowers the bowls and silverware.

Jemima points at the nearest chair. “Come have a seat.”

Soup was also given to me as a kid by my mom and grandma. It was really good, but this is better.

We eat in silence. Chad finishes first.

“Can I leave the table now?”

“Yes,” Jemima says. “But dishes go in the sink.”

I smile around my spoon at the command.

He takes his seat on the sofa and hits play on the movie again.

After I finish eating, I take my bowl and start cleaning up.

She leans over, touching my hands. “Don’t. I’ll do it later.”

Her face is so close to mine. If I dipped my head, I could kiss her. My eyes drop to her lips, but I refrain.

“Let me help, it will get done quicker,” I whisper across her lips.

As her eyes soften and she gives up the fight, we stare at each other for a moment. She snaps out of the daze and grabs a towel to dry while I wash. “When was the last time you washed a dish?” she asks.

“Today.”

“I wasn’t talking about now.”

“Yesterday.”

She nods, her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing in thought.

“Nothing to say?” I ask, my voice light but with a hint of curiosity.

“No, I'm just surprised, that's all.” She shrugs, her shoulders relaxed, but I can see the glint of surprise still lingering in her eyes.

“There are plenty more surprises up my sleeve than just my ability to wash dishes, you know.”

My eyes twinkle with a devilish smirk.

Bumping my shoulder as she dries the last spoon, she smiles. “One’s enough.”

But is it? Time will tell.

Once the dishes are done, and Chad is half asleep, I know it’s time for me to leave so he can rest. I say goodbye to him, and we fist pump before Jemima walks me to the door.

“Before I go, I want to give you this,” I say, handing her the black card. Her eyes drop to it, then back up to mine. “One, nine, nine, one,” I add, giving her my password.

Her lip’s part, and a squeak comes out before she clears her throat. “What’s this for?”

“Take Chad and you shopping tomorrow.”

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