Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 440

Sparrow looked at her. He did not say a word. He turned toward the living room like a man with urgent business and nowhere to be.

"Um...excuse me." Tasha's voice came out high and small. "Good morning."

He stopped and turned. "Oh. Tasha. Good morning." There was a pause. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just..." She lowered her eyes, unable to hold his gaze for more than a heartbeat. "I wanted to make breakfast earlier, but I did not know what you liked, so I did not know if I should..."

"I usually do not have breakfast." He delivered it like a weather report, flat and final. "Do not waste your time doing pointless things. I have a chef who comes around to cook. If you are hungry, he will make something for you. Do not worry about me. I never asked you for breakfast."

Tasha's nod was so small it barely moved her head. "Okay. I understand."

Sparrow was already walking away, phone pressed to his ear, some important call swallowing him whole. Tasha stood at the bottom of the stairs for a long moment, her eyes still on the floor, and then she turned and climbed up, slow, like every step cost her something.

I watched her go, and something hot and tight closed around my chest. That was it. That was exactly what she meant. He was not cruel, not precisely. He was indifferent, dismissive, a man who looked at her like she was a potted plant that had interrupted him. No wonder she walked on eggshells. No wonder she felt like she had no purpose.

I was going to talk to him about it. He could feed us and shelter us and spend fortunes keeping us safe, but I would not stand by and watch him grind Tasha down until nothing was left of her but a shell.

"Anyway." I turned back to the counter, mostly to hide the heat creeping up my neck. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead." He leaned against the counter beside me. "But before that. Why are you in the kitchen cooking? Are you starving? I just spoke to the chef. He will be here in no time. He had a slight mishap, and that is what delayed him."

"Oh, no, it is fine. I am a good cook, and so is Tasha. We do not need a chef. We can make our own food."

He nodded slowly. "Oh, I see. I guess I will dismiss the chef, then." He pulled out his phone, typed a few words into it, and pocketed it. "So. What were you about to say?"