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“Normally I would suggest that, but it’s all burnt bits.”
I sighed and rested my palms on the counter. “I can’t afford to be burning toast right now.”
“That’s one argument,” she said, picking up my black toast and walking to the window.
“You have a better one?”
“Yeah, life’s too short,” she said, dropping it on the ledge outside.
I shook my head and pulled another slice of bread from the bag.
“The world could end tomorrow in which case it would be a shame for that to be your last piece of toast.”
“True. I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it,” I said, adjusting the setting on the toaster and lowering the slice down into it.
“Plus, the birds will appreciate it.”
“They might not. Do they even eat burnt toast?”
Fiona shrugged. “Even if they don’t, it’s the thought that counts.”
“I know!” I said, clapping my hands together. “What if we just get rid of all of the furniture in the front room and turn our apartment into a temporary salon?”
Fiona crinkled her face.
“What?”
“That sounds horrible.”
“Why?”
“Cause we’d have hair all over our floor and everyone would have to use our bathroom.”
“So?”
“So where would we sit at the end of the day?”
“It would be temporary,” I said. “Just so we don’t lose all our clients.”
“What about the taxman?”
“What about him?”
“I think he might have a problem with it,” she said. “As would the neighbors.”
“It was just an idea.”
“It’s not my first choice.”
I pursed my lips.
“What?”
“Aiden signed the lease for his new office today.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“I know. He’s really excited.”
