Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Pierce chuckled. “No, she’s not French, but she did study at Cordon Bleu, and French cuisine is her specialty. She also makes fantastic Italian and Spanish dishes. Since she started working for me, she’s turned me into a fan of fish.”
A little snort escaped me between mouthfuls. “Good luck getting rid of me now. I will hide in your house and sneak out for meals.” I didn’t think I’d ever be a big fan of fish, but if the rest of her cooking was like this soup, I’d never want to leave.
“You’ll be pleased to know she also has your same appreciation for cheese.”
I nodded. Yep, I needed to meet this woman. Make friends with her. It wasn’t bad enough before that I’d had to win over Pierce because I was hopelessly in love with him, but now I had to lock him down so I had access to his cook. I was very, very screwed.
“How many people do you have working for you here?”
“Four, but I bring on a fifth during the summer months.” I looked up at him, my brow wrinkled. “Hilda is my housekeeper, Edward is my driver, Mrs. Cantrip is my chef, and Albert is the gardener. During the spring, he hires some part-time help to keep up with the trimming and mowing.”
“Not a bad gig for him. A bitch to keep up with things during the summer, but at least it slows in the winter.”
“Actually, he keeps quite busy in the winter. I have a large glass greenhouse where I grow some vegetables and hothouse flowers.”
“Wait…do you garden, or do you have someone do it for you?”
Pierce lowered his gaze to his plate, where he was picking out a mound of untouched squash. “I try to garden. It’s very relaxing, but I’ll admit that I’m not very good at it. Plus, work frequently drags me away, so I can’t keep up with things as I should. Albert keeps up with all the plants and cleans up after the messes I inevitably make trying to care for the plants.”
Nooooooo! Why does he have to be so cute?
My heart squeezed as I immediately imagined Pierce in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a smudge of dirt on his cheek, trying to plant vegetables he didn’t particularly like, and then a gray-haired man coming in behind him, grumbling as he did it all the right way.
“I’ll admit, most of the time, I ask his permission to water my plants in the greenhouse. He stands behind me the entire time, telling me when I’ve watered them enough. I tend to under-water if I’m left to my own devices.”
There’s no hope for me. I’m going to expire from his adorableness, and no one can possibly save me.
We chatted comfortably throughout dinner. He never brought up anything about the concerto, music, or the situation that we were in. I could relax and forget for a short period of time.
It was only after the last of the plates had been taken away and the chocolate from the tiny dessert pastry was done melting on my tongue that Pierce dared to mention anything about music.
“Do you want to work tonight, or would you rather start fresh in the morning?” he inquired.
I frowned at my empty wineglass. Deep down, I knew I should work. I was more awake now that I’d showered and properly eaten for the first time in days. If I tried to sleep or even watch something on TV, my brain would wander to that damn concerto.
“I should work. Even if it’s just to go through and try to organize the notes that I have.” I forced a smile as I lifted my gaze to meet his worried one. “Do you have a room that’s sort of remote from the rest of the house? I don’t want to disturb you or anyone else.”
Pierce folded up his napkin and rose. “No, you’re going to work in my bedroom.”
He was leaving the room as my brain caught up with what he’d said. I jumped out of the chair and jogged after him. “What? I can’t do that. What about you? You were working in there. Aren’t you tired? There’s no way you can sleep with me making such noise.”
Pierce stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glared at me. “Don’t ever call what you do noise. When you hold a violin and play, it is never noise.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I froze under that harsh stare. “I just meant…”
“I know what you meant.” Pierce sighed and continued up the stairs to his bedroom. His shoulders slumped, and I got the impression that he was frustrated with himself, not me. “I’m not tired. I’m a night owl, and I stay up late reading or working. My plan is to work for a few hours. You can work on your concerto. Then we’ll go to bed.”