Page 15 of Nave
She waved an invite over toward the kitchen, and I watched as she reached into the cabinets to produce a paper cup and lid.Each drawer she opened contained paper and plastic products. Not a single real plate or cup or… anything.
“I know,” she said, her voice so low that I could barely hear it. “Not super environmentally friendly, is it?” she asked, going over to the coffee machine to stick a pod in. “Ben likes things clean.”
“I noticed,” I agreed, glancing around.
There was nothing on the counters. Not a single crumb. No bowl of fruit. Not a dish in the sink or a dishtowel hanging from a hook.
“How do you cook?” I asked as she fiddled with the smartwatch on her wrist, seeming uncomfortable.
“Oh, uh, I don’t.”
“Not a fan?” I asked.
“I actually love to cook.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“We eat takeout,” she said instead of answering. Then, her voice nearly a whisper, “Ben is particular about his food.”
Ben seemed particular about everything.
“Does he have a lot of allergies?” I asked, watching her stiffen. “The HEPA filters,” I clarified.
“Oh, no. No, he likes the air… clean.”
“The whole place is clean,” I said.
“Yes. It’s always like this.”
“Ben likes to clean?”
“No.”
So she did the cleaning.
My hand slid down as she handed me my finished cup of coffee, noticing her painfully short fingernails, the red tips to her fingers. Like someone who spent hours scrubbing might have.
“You gonna have a cup with me?” I asked when she looked lost at what to do or say next.
There was a second of uncertainty. Then, I don’t know, relief?
“Sure!” she agreed, and her smile seemed genuine as she quickly went about making herself a cup. When she opened the fridge to get the creamer, I noticed there was nothing inside but bottles of water, green smoothies, and prepackaged fruits and salad.
“Healthy,” I observed when she caught me looking.
“Yeah.” Her smile faltered at that as she closed the door, then waved over toward the round two-seater dining table. White, of course.
“Do you guys get a lot of visitors?”
Ben had been the one to insist on meeting us at his place instead of some secondary location that both Dezi and I would have preferred. No one liked to be on someone else’s home turf. Especially someone as mysterious as Ben Dalton.
I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine the way her gaze flicked to one of the cameras.
“No, actually. You’re the first.”
No wonder she seemed so uncomfortable entertaining.
“It’s just the two of you all the way out here?”
