Page 66 of Fallen Hearts

“We should probably talk.”

I’d left in the wee hours of the morning, Pia half-asleep, saying we’d talk later. Thankfully we didn’t have any guests at the moment, and while I had to get downstairs to finish the wall with Beck before tomorrow, that could wait.

“What’s this?” she asked as I put a plate in front of her.

“Courtesy of Esther. She’s trying out a new scrambled egg casserole recipe.”

When we didn’t have guests, Esther cooked breakfast for my father anyway, and now me, since it gave her something to do. A retired schoolteacher, Esther hated being idle.

Another reason to keep Heritage Hill. She was like family and likely would be out of a job if I sold.

“Thanks,” Pia said, scooting her chair closer to the desk. “I almost never eat breakfast.”

“No? It’s my favorite meal of the day.”

“I like it,” she said, popping a forkful of egg casserole into her mouth. “Just don’t usually make time for it. Sometimes I take a granola bar or something with me, but that’s not as good as this. What’s in it?”

“Esther never reveals her secrets in the kitchen, so…” I shrugged. Watching her lips part, the pink gloss slowly disappearing, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Things would never be the same. Not here, at Heritage Hill. Or between Pia and me. Whether that was a good or bad thing was yet to be determined.

“Speaking of secrets,” Pia said between bites. “Do the guys know?”

“Not yet. Do you not want me to tell them?”

“Doesn’t bother me, I’m just preparing for some major ribbing from Beck.”

“You know him well.” Beck would be incorrigible when he found out, especially to me. Hopefully he’d go easy on Pia. “So…” she said, clearly wanting to tell me something.

“Say it. Don’t be shy around me ever, Pia. Unlike Esther”—I smiled—“you can give up all your secrets, and they’ll be safe with me.”

She nearly choked. Pia reaching for her coffee to wash down a bite of eggs was charming for some reason.

“You’ll be the death of me, Mason.”

“How so?” I leaned back in my chair.

“You know exactly how so. And speaking of secrets, I’m not the one who keeps them.”

“Are you insinuating I keep secrets?”

She laughed. “You are the most secretive person I know.”

“Ask me anything,” I said, knowing we both had to get to work but not wanting to leave her yet.

Pia took a bite of toast and watched me, skeptical. While it was true I didn’t readily volunteer information, there wasn’t much to hide. I was a pretty simple guy.

“Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Food?”

“Burger and fries.”

“Best memory?”

That was a bit harder. “My father, teaching me to fish,” I said.

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