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Oh, she was good.

CHAPTER FIVE

IT WAS REMARKABLE how well Ro settled into her new job in just a few short days. She seemed to learn everything on the first try. I never had to tell her anything twice, even when it looked like she wasn’t listening. Hell, half the time I didn’t even have to tell her once. She had a much better idea of her job duties than I did.

It had only been four days, but I could already feel my life becoming less chaotic, my work life more productive.

Also, and much more importantly, more fun.

I woke up and went straight to the kitchen, where she was just finishing up with the coffee.

She’d prepared me a perfect cappuccino, but I didn’t reach for it, instead I took a long drink of her too sweet latte, grimacing as I set it down.

“You want some coffee with that sugar?” I asked her.

“That wasn’t yours.” She pointed at mine.

“Oh,” I grabbed mine, playing dumb.

“You knew that was mine. Why do you love stealing the first drink of my coffee when you know it’s too sweet for you?”

I didn’t tell her that it was because of the way her nose wrinkled up when I did it. Annoying her was fun for me. I got way too big of a kick out of it.

I grabbed my cup, taking a long swig of it.

“Your cappuccinos are life-changing,” I told her appreciatively, “I’m hooked. Totally addicted.”

“Addiction isn’t funny,” she said in her perfect deadpan way.

“Sure it is.”

We shared a smile, mine big, hers just a slight upturn at the corner that showed her amusement with me. I really liked that smile.

“How did you know I’d just woken up?” I asked her.

“I didn’t. I got lucky. I was just about to take off, and I figured I’d leave you a cappuccino in the hopes that you’d come down before it got cold.”

My eyes narrowed on her. “Take off? Why would you take off?”

“It’s Sunday.”

“Is it?” I asked. I wasn’t that great with days of the week. “Okay, what’s that got to do with anything?”

“I need Sunday mornings off. I thought we went over this when you hired me.”

I just kept looking at her, brows drawn together in confusion. “That thing about church? I thought that was a joke.”

“Well, it wasn’t. I have church on Sunday mornings, and I don’t like to miss it.”

Well, hell. “How long does church take?”

“Around an hour.”

I noticed for the first time that she was dressed somewhat differently than normal. She was wearing a dress. It was hideous, but it had flowers on it, and it did look vaguely like something a person might wear to church.

“Um, well, good luck with that,” I told her. “Hurry back.”

She laughed. “Why? Will you miss me?”