Page 52 of Own

As for the apartment, it took up the entire top floor of the building. There were four flats below, also owned by Rachel apparently, but they were only let for students and uni was out currently. So we were in luck there. She said the next tenants weren’t due for another month.

Whatever we had to do shouldn’t take that long.

“This photographer friend must make a bundle,” Voodoo mused as they set up Alphabet’s equipment. We didn’t have as much as we’d had at the first house, but they were doing an inventory so Voodoo could acquire more.

I shrugged. “She does well. I think this place was a gift, if I recall correctly.”

That earned me alookfrom Bones. “A yachting kind of gift?”

“Oh, god no.” I raised my hands and shook my head. “Rachel is not a yacht girl. Trust me. She’d be more likely to kick them in the balls than get on their boats. No—she’s just really tight with some really wealthy friends and when she relocated to Paris, her friend bought the whole building and set it up for her to live in. Cause she wanted her to have something nice with excellent security.”

Alphabet nodded. “That explains all the upgrades.” The upgrades included exterior cameras. All access points into the building and the apartment itself had cameras. It also took codes to get in the doors below and the elevator wouldn’t work without another code.

“I just…I like the story. Because Rachel would never ask for something like this and I got the impression it kind of baffled her. But I also get why her friends did it. They are back in New York and she’s here. They wanted her safe. I would do the same for…”

Amorette.

Some of my good cheer just fled.

“Hey,” Lunchbox settled his hands on my upper arms and rubbed them. “It’s okay. Come help me make a food shopping list. Your friend has a great place, but I don’t think she ever uses her kitchen.”

Some of my humor spilled back in, but only a little. The ache for Amorette spread like a poison, burning everywhere it touched. I’d forgotten—for just a little while, I’d forgotten. I sniffed once, blinking back the tears.

“You sure you want me to help?” It came out rougher than I intended. “I really shouldn’t be let loose in a kitchen.”

“I can take care of all that,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “What you are going to do is tell me what you like and then I’ll build the menus from there.”

The kitchen was every bit as nice as I remembered it, huge, open space with double ovens, a double sided sink, a pot filler over the range, and stool seating at the kitchen peninsula. The floor was marble, white with black veins, and beautiful. Sandstone countertops and backsplash warmed it up. The cabinetry was all painted bright white, the windows including the skylight, flooded the room with natural light.

“Oh,” I exhaled a breath. “Coffee.” The espresso machine was a lot like the one they had at base. A snort of laughter escaped me.

“What’s funny?” Lunchbox asked from where he stood at the fridge. The door was open and he frowned. What I could see of it made it seem like it was empty. But if she was in Australia, that was probably a good move.

“I just thought of the house in Montana as base.”

He flashed me a quick smile. “That’s because it isbase.”

“Accepted,” I murmured. “We need to get oat milk.”

“See, already helping with a list.” he stood at the peninsula making crisp notes on a pad of paper for grocery supplies. Headded oat milk and underlined it twice. Some items had slashes next to them, others little asterisks.

“Code?” I asked when I leaned against the counter next to him. He had a lot of items on there, bread, muffins, flour, milk, eggs, potatoes, and meat. “And isn’t that a lot of food if we’re only here for a few days?”

I didn’t want to leave anything to go bad in her fridge.

“Slashes indicates we can substitute if necessary, asterisks are absolutely no substitutes accepted and underlined means don’t come back without it.”

He added whole bean coffee to the list, and underlined it twice as well. Dog food was also added, then toiletries.

“Do you need any—” He eyed me.

“Any?” I raised my brows.

“Tampons or pads or little cup things or whatever?” His expression was perfectly neutral. Perfectly cool and collected.

“No,” I said slowly. “I don’t. I have an implant. Just easier because I travel so much. It makes my periods almost non-existent. Though I do PMS now and then even without the rest.”

“Good to know.” He completed the toiletries list and then slid the pad over to me. “Anything else you want?”

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