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“…Right”

Despite its size, the kitchen was easy to ic once you learned the systeotten used to i

I’d never seen Grandhost pepper on one memorable occasion I wasn’t quite at her level of skill, lacking about fifty years of practice, but still did ether a serviceable fry up “I wish you’ve let ht the plates to the table

“You’d have been taking your life in your hands I move fast, and often with sharp objects”

“Even so,” he protested, “I like to feel useful”

“Even at the risk of your life?” I challenged

“Apparently, given recent history”

Te to slide the flesh fros it was best not to probe It would have been a reasonable question, had I asked it

I just wanted Hugo to tell me in his own time, if at all I had wondered at his mild nature How it could cohabitate with such darkness as I’d already found in his pages I didn’t want to upset that balance

“Sit, dishes arethe cutlery on to the already stacked plates

“Yes, sir”

But as he walked from the room, a childish fear overtookroom alone I’d so no idea how

Entering the kitchen as quietly as I could, I watched in silence as Hugo cleaned, dried and put away The silveras already drying on the tea towel set under the dish rack I couldn’t help but observe how the muscles moved under his Oxford cloth shirt So neatly tucked into charcoal gray Perry Ellis slacks

He wasn’t really dressed up, but always ood hat he wore I would have to get him to teach me sometime

He turned to faceNot ot past him really

“What would you like for dessert?”