AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No. Just habit.
Good.
I’ll expect you to cook here starting tomorrow morning. You can have groceries delivered to this location if that helps.
I’ll have eggs for breakfast from now on.
Eggs?
Six weeks of smoothies every morning and now he wants eggs? That can’t be a coincidence.
How would you like them prepared?
It doesn’t matter.
* * *
So, as per his instructions, I cook in his house. I don’t see him, but I grumble under my breath the whole time.
Who doesn’t have a preference on how they eat their eggs?
Who?
I’ve been making eggs since I was nine and everyone I have ever known is picky about their eggs.
There are infinite varieties: poached, scrambled, soft-boiled, hard-boiled, fried, omelets.
So there’s no way he doesn’t have an opinion on how he likes his eggs. So why not just say how he likes them?
Is he fucking with me?
Beyond the egg-related text, I don’t hear from Ian again for several days. I’m nervous every time I let myself into his house and jumpy the entire time I’m there. Despite that, I’m too much of a smart ass to just let the egg thing go. I serve him a different egg dish for breakfast every day, each more elaborate than the next.
A classic Denver omelet, followed by migas, a quiche, and then chilaquiles. I end the week with a soufflé. Why, yes, I do have to get up at five thirty to have his soufflé on the table by seven. Totally worth it.
I still have so many questions about him and no way to get answers—not without violating my contract and risking losing my bonus.
Who is he really?
Where did all of his money come from?
Why does he live all alone in the middle of nowhere?
And who has no preference in how they eat their eggs?
Maybe he’s a cyborg?
A terminator sent from the future?
An alien sent here to study human dining habits and learn how humans like their eggs?
At least I’ve moved away from all the serial killer themed options.
I still haven’t googled him. If I’m going to live and work in the middle of nowhere for a year, there’s no way I’m going to do anything that might void my contract.
I haven’t given up on the idea of sending a coded message to my sister asking her to Google him for me. I just haven’t figured out the phrasing of it yet. Every time I come up with something that I think might work, I scribble it down on a piece of paper I keep folded in my pocket. I have a running list on my phone. The problem is none of my options sound like real sentences.
In Another Neverland. Don’t Occasionally Notice …?
