Page 117 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
“Where is your plate?”
I set a bowl of fruit down. “I’m not much of a breakfast eater.”
He waited until I was seated before he picked up his fork.
We ate in silence. I studied him through my eyelashes. “So where are you visiting from?”
“Virginia.”
I wasn’t used to a man giving me so little to work with during a conversation. “Are you just up for a visit?”
“I’m doing a three month outpatient program at the hospital.”
I swallowed and eyed him. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him.
“I hope everything is okay.”
He didn’t respond. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it.
“That means you will be here for our wedding.”
Green eyes flickered up at me for a fraction of a second and then dropped to the ring on my left hand. “Matt didn’t tell me he was engaged.”
I could not reconcile Matt telling this man anything about our lives, much less being friends with him. Matt’s friends were smooth and eloquent. They liked to talk about fine wines and the Met. Jackson’s silence made him unique. He was like no one I had ever met.
He stood up and picked up his plate.
“I’ll do those,” I said.
He ignored me. He started to load the dishwasher. He picked up the fry pan. “Dishwasher?”
“You can put that in the sink. I’ll get that later.”
I watched in bemusement as he ran the water and then found the soap from beneath the sink. He washed the pan and the three other items in the sink, before picking up a dishtowel and drying them off. He started to wipe the length of my countertops. I had never seen Matt willingly volunteer to help with dishes. This guy, who looked like he could kill with his bare hands, was quietly tidying up. Nothing about this made sense.
“Thank you.”
He nodded and looked towards the door. I knew without him saying a word, that he was going to leave. I stood up. “Why don’t I show you your room?”
He turned his attention on me. Again I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“I mean it. I’m not letting you leave here,” I said.
“I don’t want to put you out.”
I stood up. He was a giant next to me. “If you leave, Matt is going to ask me why. And I really don’t want to have that conversation.”
The best I got from him was a nod.
I watched as he grabbed his duffle bag and then I was leading him up the steps. I was nervous, and when I get nervous I babble.
“This is Matt’s room. This is my room. Both our rooms have bathrooms. This is the laundry room. Please help yourself. I’m sorry, but your room doesn’t have a bathroom attached. There is one in the hall here. And this will be your room.”
I pushed open the door and shut my eyes in shame. There was a partially deflated air mattress lying on the ground, an old dresser and a vacuum cleaner in the middle of the room. His eyes looked around the room. “This is fine.”
“Ha,” I said, my face red. “Obviously, I'll get a bed in here.”
“I don’t need a bed. I can sleep anywhere.”
