or a sandwich. I want to learn other things. The harder things.”
Her eyes were fiery, both daring Claire to tell her no, to tell her
that she’d done something wrong when no clear parameters
had been set for her within the house, and with sheer joy.
Claire found herself warming, annoyingly enough. She
made sure that her voice had the perfect amount of bite to
counteract the response. “I can tell you if you’re making a
mess like this, you’re doing something wrong.”
Jean pretty much trembled at her words. He was so worried
about his job, even though Claire would never fire him. She
never yelled. She never even gave foul looks. She had no idea
why people were so scared of her. “It was me. The mess. We
got carried away,” he tried to say, but his voice shook.
The oddest sensation gripped Claire. It was an urge to show
Jean how to re-learn the basics, and she could teach Haley as
well. Teach them how to make the fluffiest, softest bread. The
most decadent desserts. The tastiest meats and cheeses. No.
You’d have fun. You’d have so much fun. You miss this. More
than anything. You’re only punishing yourself.
“I’ll clean it up,” Jean hastily tacked on. “Right away. Don’t
worry, it won’t affect dinner. I have that under control.”
Claire wondered absently how many jobs Jean had been
fired from for having nothing under control. It didn’t matter.
He wasn’t normally so happy. She’d even consider Jean a
grouchy sort of person. And he’d been laughing when she
came in. With Haley. She’d been there for just a few hours in a
house that wasn’t hers and already she’d gotten Jean to warm
up to her.
She’s more dangerous than her father, and now she’s living
in your house for six months.
