“Yes. I figured it was my turn since you’ve done it three times in a row.”
“How lovely.” He kissed my neck, causing me to fumble the knife. With a chuckle, he stepped away from me. “I’ll let you get on with it.”
“That would be smart.” I slid the bagels back into the toaster oven to keep them warm. “Do you still plan to come by the studio today?”
“Yes. Not sure when I’ll get there, though.”
“As long as I know you’re coming, I’ll leave your name at the front gate.”
He nodded as he sipped his coffee. “I’ll call or text you when I’m on the way.”
“Sounds good.” I melted butter in a small frying pan, then cracked three eggs into a bowl and whipped them up. “I might have my phone turned off, but I’ll let the guard know you’re coming.”
“Good.” He took his coffee over to the dining room table, where a few days ago we had rolled out several sheets of architects’ blueprints to study.
Derek had recently purchased the smaller loft next door to mine and our plan was to open up walls to enlarge the living area. We would also turn the master bedroom in the second loft into an office for Derek and create a guest suite with its own kitchen for our visitors. It would be an ideal place for members of my family to stay when they came to the city and I was also hoping we might persuade Derek’s family to visit from England more often. After all, the last time his brother was in town, things had gotten very interesting. I couldn’t wait to meet the rest of his family.
The only thing we hadn’t decided on was where we would live for a few months during the most destructive and noisy phases of construction. We had already debated several choices. We could rent another apartment nearby or stay in a hotel. Neither of those options appealed to us.
Derek’s company owned several hotel-type suites on the top floor of their building, for visiting clients and corporate officials. We could live there for as long as it was necessary. I could commute to my home workshop and simply put up with the construction noise all day. Or we could both stay with my mom and dad in Dharma up in Sonoma County, where I grew up.
My parents still lived in their big ranch-style home, where they’d raised six children. Obviously, there would be plenty of room for Derek and me. It would be nice to spend quality time up there, and I could work in my old mentor Abraham’s bookbinding studio, right down the street from my parents’ place. But Derek would have to commute into the city and might be able to visit only on the weekends, so I wasn’t happy about that choice, either.
The kitten played with a squeaky toy as we munched on our scrambled eggs and bagels with cream cheese and strawberry jam. “I’m nervous about taking little Snowball to Dharma.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said absently as he studied one section of the blueprints.
“I’m probably being overprotective.”
“Yes. If you’re truly worried, just keep her inside.” He flashed me a look. “And there’s no way in hell she’ll be named Snowball.”
I bit back a smile. “I didn’t think you heard me.”
“I heard you.”
I thought for a moment, then said, “What about Snowflake?”
He grunted in disgust. “Allow the poor creature some dignity, will you?”
I picked up the kitten and snuggled her soft, furry neck. “But she’s just a widdle kitty.”
“I see,” he said, as he cut his bagel into smaller bites. “You’ve lost all your own dignity, so how can you possibly be expected to pass any along to the cat?”
I laughed and nuzzled her tummy. “It’s hard to maintain much dignity around such a little cutie.”
“I disagree. Watch and learn.” He set down his knife and held out his hand for the cat. “Come here, Marlborough. There’s a good lass.”
“Marlborough?” I snorted a laugh, but handed the tiny creature over. “Sounds like the name of your butler.”
“Hmm.” He studied the cat. “Charlemagne, then.” The kitten began to lick Derek’s finger with its tiny pink tongue and he softened instantly. “Would you look at that? I’d say she approves of Charlemagne.”
“No, she doesn’t,” I said, as I stood and stacked our empty plates. “But she loves you, anyway.”
He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. “We could call her Charlie.”
I considered it as I carried the dishes into the kitchen. Charlie was a cute name, especially for a girl kitty. “I’ll think about it.”
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