Page 125 of Mila: The Godfather

I headed towards the kitchen. Giddy excitement had thrummed to life inside of me.

The kitchen is my favorite part of the house. It always has been. I am not disappointed when I find a kitchen much like the ones I saw on the cooking channel with all those cooking gadgets.

“He did say I would find you here first thing in the morning.” A too chirpy voice sounds from my right at the same time as two ladies—members of the staff — scurry out of the room after saying a quick hello. Maeve is seated at the counter with a laptop in front of her and a bowl of cereal.

“Hullo.” I wave my hand awkwardly while I move further inside the kitchen.

“Hi.” She smiles. “Are you hungry? The chef prepared you a plate. Let me reheat it for you. Take a seat.”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can.” Maeve says while nodding.

When I realize she’s not going to let me serve myself, I take a seat next to her chair and watch as she heats up the plate and then places it in front of me. It smells mouthwatering.

Sausage and cheese breakfast egg muffins.

Yum.

One of my top three breakfast dishes.

“Thank you, Maeve.” I whisper to her.

“You’re welcome, Mila.” she says sweetly, taking her seat.

I find myself feeling grateful that she goes back to whatever she was doing on her computer before I walked in. Finding common ground with strangers is a challenge that has proven to be not only difficult but, at times, stressful. Somehow, with this girl, it doesn’t feel that way.

She’s comfortable in silence, just like me.

After I’m done eating, I get up from my seat and take my plate to the sink. When I open the faucet, Maeve speaks. “There’s people for that, love.”

“I know.” I clean my plate anyway. “But I have two hands, and they work perfectly fine.” After the words slip out of my mind, I realize that my bluntness may come off as rude.

Maeve laughs. “I can see why he can’t get enough of you.”

She means Riagan.

My cheeks reddened, and those excited flutters at just the mention of his name were still going crazy in my belly.

“Have you known him for long?” I ask while grabbing a napkin to dry my hands and walking towards the counter.

“Ten years.” Maeve says with a shrug.

That’s a long time.

Enough time to form lifetime bonds.

“Did you guys —” I don’t get to finish my sentence because she interrupts me.

“What? Date? Fuck? God, no. No offense, but the boss is not my type at all.”

I asked what’s been on my mind since meeting her, and now I feel silly. Does she think of me as a jealous fool? Looking away from her, I speak again. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s a valid question.” She pauses. “His father, Cathan. He… he saved u—”

“Sunshine.” The booming voice of an intruder startles us both, and interrupts what she was going to say to me next.

A familiar voice. Gus.

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