Page 30 of Fly's Path

Showing up to bake for a child shouldn’t be this difficult.

The garden seems like—

The front door opens, and Viola steps out. “There you are. Right on time.”

What do I say? I’m not usually a prompt person, but my morning run was done, and all I was doing was staring at the clock. “Morning.”

“Morning. Well, don’t you look pretty. Come on in. We’ll talk while we cook.”

Good. Give me something to do so I don’t keep overthinking the kiss from yesterday. “Sounds good.” I follow her inside the door and freeze. This feels like a home. An insanely fancy home. One that’s owned by a billionaire. If I’m right and those are originals, there are tens of millions sitting on one foyer wall alone.

A housekeeper.

Viola must be the housekeeper for a rich person.

“Can I take your coat?”

No, I almost snap. “No, thank you. I tend to get very cold.”

She nods and starts walking. “Are you thin-blooded?”

Is that a polite way of asking if I’m weak, which, to be fair, I feel often? “Nah, I’m just from the South. Dealing with a northern winter is definitely not something I’m used to.”

“You didn’t seem cold the other day.”

“Exercise will do that.” I try not to gape at the furnishings as we walk through the house. Going from knowing not one billionaire to visiting the homes of two within a week seems wild.

“You must run often.”

Whenever I’m feeling stressed. “Almost every day.”

“Wow. My grandkids are active like that. I’m more of a homebody myself. All the exercise I get comes from cooking. Feeding my family makes me happy.”

“It’s one of the best ways of showing people that you care.” And the cheapest. “So what are we making for your grandson today?”

“I was thinking about a steak and some pastina, but I don’t know how easy that would be to travel with.”

What kid loves steak? “What about some cookies or cupcakes?”

“Good idea. That boy loves sweets.” Her face falls a little bit. “But I’m worried his doctors will want him to eat super healthy.”

“So let’s do both. Something healthy and something decadent.” Keeping the steak warm for transport might be an issue. “How far away is his rehab center?”

“The ride is going to take us about thirty to forty minutes.”

Hmmm. “If we pack it with something really hot, it should stay good for that long. Unless he likes it rare.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Medium rare. And we can pack it with the pastina…it’s chicken noodle soup.”

“Perfect. Do you think your grandson would like some cheesy biscuits with his chicken soup?”

Viola’s face lights up. “He’d love them. Do you make cookies or brownies by chance?”

“Sure do, but have you ever had a blondie?”

She shakes her head.

“They’re one of my specialties. All the nurses at the home love them.”