Page 40 of Rayna's Daddy

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The next morning,I jumped out of bed and dress and got myself together in record time. No longer hesitant in Kyler’s space, I walked into the living room, expecting to find him, but instead, I found a note.

Good morning Rayna,

I will be out all day attending to some business off site. Please stay in the apartment. If you need anything, call Joan at x3325. I will see you tonight.

K

A note. Who leaves notes? He could have texted me. And, tonight was forever away.

With nothing to do, I wandered the apartment but quickly grew bored and hungry. A quick search confirmed, the kitchen was for show. The pantry was bare, and I had confirmed last night the refrigerator was a cooler for soft drinks, a carton of half and half and a bushel of apples. I grabbed an apple and picked up the phone.

“Joan speaking.” She answered on the first ring.

“Uhm, Joan. H-Hi.” I stammered.

“Hi Rayna. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to get some groceries.” Kyler’s kitchen looked like it hadn’t been cooked in.

She didn’t answer me right away.

“Hello.”

“We have amazing chefs in our restaurants that could make you anything you want.” She paused. “What would you like for breakfast?”

I pouted.

“Uhm. Pancakes and bacon cooked crispy.” They won’t get it right. They never get it right.

“Excellent.” Typing sounds came through the phone. “I’ll have Patrick bring it right up. Anything else you need, just call.”

“What about snacks?” I blurted out.

“What snacks would you like?” She sighed.

Don’t get short with me, Missy.

I sighed louder.

“Why don’t I text you my cell number and you can send me a list?” She hung up before I could say fine.

Five seconds later, my cell phone beeped in my pocket.

Joan: Hi Rayna, you can text me at this number. Let me know what you need.

Good. Avoiding conversation with her would be a blessing.

Patrick knocked on the door ten minutes later. I opened the door. He hauled the tray into the living room.

“Where would you like it?” He asked.

“The table, please.” I pointed.

He sat the tray down and lifted the cover. He picked up the plate of pancakes. The stack was taller than me. He sat it in front of the chair at the head of the table.

“I can do that.” I stepped next to him.

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