“I’m not—” Her words are cut off when her stomach growls again.
I herd her to the spot at the island before grabbing the plate I prepared for her. When I set the food down in front of her, her eyes widen.
“You made this?” I nod. “I didn’t realize I had the ingredients for pancakes.”
“You had butter and flour and eggs.”
She freezes with her hand holding a fork of eggs in the air. “You made pancakes from scratch?”
“It’s not difficult.”
“Considering my idea of cooking is dialing a restaurant for take-out, I’ll decide what’s difficult or not.”
I chuckle and nudge her fork. “Eat.”
She shovels the eggs into her mouth. Her eyes widen as she chews. “Wow. These are good.”
I bow. “Thank you.”
“Are you a chef?”
“No.” Being stuck working at the same restaurant day in and out is about as appealing to me as sticking my foot in a bear trap. I need the freedom to move on when my gut says it’s time.
“What do you do for work?”
I fetch myself a cup of coffee to avoid the question, but she doesn’t let it go. I doubt the woman ever lets anything go.
“You know what I do for work,” she reminds me.
I sigh. “It’s boring,” I hedge.
“Boring isn’t an answer. Unless you’re afraid to tell me because you’re some kind of gangster.”
I tweak her nose. “You have quite the imagination. I’m not a gangster. I’m a financial advisor.”
“A financial advisor for gangsters?”
“What gave you such a crazy idea?”
“Why else wouldn’t you want to tell me what your job is?”
Because I’m not used to anyone knowing what I do. Because I prefer to keep myself to myself. I don’t reveal any of those responses to Cassandra, though. My replies would lead to more questions. Questions I’m not prepared to answer. And this woman doesn’t appear to be the type to keep quiet when she’s curious.
“Because my job is boring.”
“It would be less boring if you worked for gangsters.”
I can’t help myself from grinning. “Why do you sound excited by the idea?”
She shrugs. “I like excitement. So sue me.”
“Being involved in crime is exciting?”
“Meh. Crime is such a nasty word. I prefer misdeeds.”
I laugh. “You’re a troublemaker.”
“Not so much lately.”