Page 40 of The Deal Breaker
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Just friends was enough. It had to be.
* * *
Monday morning arrived much too soon for Iris. A sleepless night over-analyzing Dash had left her exhausted. She wanted to hit the snooze button but didn’t because she had work to do.
Getting dressed, she yawned.
A nap wouldn’t happen with the training and packing to do today, but she would go to bed early. The last thing she needed was to catch a cold before classes started. She slid her feet into her suede boots, shrugged on her jacket, and headed outside into darkness.
Unlike her, the sun was still asleep. It wouldn’t peek above the horizon for another hour. A light drizzle fell, but the path, illuminated by lights, wasn’t too wet. The cool temperature, however, seeped into her. She shivered.
Iris quickened her steps. As soon as she was inside, the heat enveloped her like a long-lost friend, making her feel warm and cozy as she had last night. She pulled off her jacket and removed her boots, leaving everything in the mudroom.
She yawned again.
In the kitchen, she made a pot of coffee with the ridiculously expensive beans Dash loved. He took an insulated cup with him to work each morning, but today, she needed the caffeine to keep her going. As the coffee brewed, filling the air with a fragrant scent, she placed two frosted Pop-Tarts on a plate. Not the expected breakfast of a twenty-eight-year-old billionaire, but he enjoyed them, so she kept a few boxes in the pantry, stocking up when they were on sale, so he never ran out.
As she unloaded the dishwasher, she mentally planned out what she needed to do before Janice, Leo, and Tony arrived.
“Good morning.” Dash’s hair was still damp, curling at the ends. He wore a pair of khaki pants, a light blue oxford, and brown dress shoes, the Italian ones Henry had suggested Dash buy. The casual style suited him. Instead of sitting at the island’s bar, he placed his breakfast in the toaster.
Not his usual MO. “I could have done that.”
“You usually do.” He sat on a stool. “But I’m not helpless in the kitchen.”
Trying not to laugh, she stared down her nose. “Say what?”
“I am one hundred percent trained in using the toaster and microwave thanks to your detailed instructions.”
“That was to preserve this gorgeous gourmet kitchen from a fire.”
“Come on. It was more smoke than flames.”
Iris filled a cup three-quarters of the way full with coffee, added cream, and two teaspoons of sugar. She set the drink in front of him. “You ruined the microwave.”
“I know. I know.” He sighed. “You don’t need to microwave anything that’s not frozen for more than five minutes.”
“Especially s’mores.”
They’d been through this before, but she enjoyed the back-and-forth. Maybe they could still be best friends. Though she didn’t know what was up with his twirling her hair.
Maybe coffee would help. She poured herself a cup.
“Admit it.” He rested his elbows on the island. “The new microwave was better. More settings and buttons to push.”
“It works. That’s all that matters to me.” She didn’t get into the high-tech gadgets and gizmos he bought, but Dash enjoyed having the latest and greatest technology in the house, so she learned to use them. “But Tony’s impressed.”
“Who’s Tony?”
“Your personal chef.” She placed the two Pop-Tarts on the plate and set it in front of Dash. “He’ll prepare fresh dinners for you during the week, and meals you can heat up on the weekend unless you need him for a dinner or party.”
“He’s flexible with his days and hours?”
“Very.”
Her former culinary school classmate had been so thankful for this job. The restaurant where he worked closed, so he’d needed a new position.
