Page 1 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
CHAPTER ONE
CATHERINE
“Annabelle,” I admonish as the black cat kitchen timer swivels on its base and meows at me.
The countertop ripples, slinging the salt shaker toward the pan of vegetables I just started sautéing. Rolling my eyes upward, I chuckle as the inn’s ceiling tiles pop playfully, clacking like piano keys.
“No more salt.” I grab the shaker and shove it in the cabinet above the stove. “Guests can add it as needed, but there’s no need for us to go salt crazy.”
The timer spins to face away from me as the ceiling tiles still, the kitchen going utterly silent except for the sound of the vegetables in the pan.
“Don’t be irritated, my love.” Reaching out, I rub the tiles behind the stovetop.
One of the kitchen windows opens and slams angrily shut.
Sighing, I open the cabinet, withdraw the salt, and toss a dash on the vegetables.
For whatever reason, my home has a very strong preference on salt content, and this is not the hill I want to die on today. Last time I disagreed with her about salting the breakfast foods,she locked my bedroom door for twenty minutes until I apologized profusely.
It’s funny what topics Annabelle feels strongly about. She and I are usually in lock step abouteverything, but occasionally she surprises me in her vehement preferences.
The salt, for instance.
And her refusal to let me touch up the white paint on her shutters even though it’s chipping.
The tiny cat timer executes a darling series of flips along the countertop, leaping onto the back of the stove, its kitty features curling into a smile.
We fall into an easy silence as I finish the vegetables for the breakfast buffet. All of our rooms are full but one, and I’m expecting a guest any mo?—
The ding of a bell echoes down the hallway, interrupting my thoughts. Annabelle ripples the backsplash tile to warn me that there’s someone up front. I laugh and stroke the tile again.
“Thank you, my darling.”
The cat timer meows as the front bell dings a second time.
Leaving the kitchen, I hurry along the skinny hallway to find a handsome young pixie male standing in the inn’s front entryway. He holds a suitcase in one hand, a long garment draped over his other forearm. Translucent blue wings flutter lightly at his back, the tips of his pointed ears twitching slightly.
“Welcome to the Annabelle Inn.” I slide behind the tall wooden check-in desk and smile. “You must be Gilbert Sintjan?”
His blue lips pull into a half smile. “That’s me. I presume you’re Catherine, the Annabelle Inn’s famous proprietress?”
I laugh. “I do believe you made up that word, Gilbert, but, yes, that’s me.”
The edges of his lips turn down. “You don’t happen to still have breakfast available, do you? I had heard the Galloping Green Bean diner makes a to-die-for burger, and I was actually going to have that for breakfast, but they werequitebusy.”
When I give him a surprised look, he laughs.
“I know, it’s odd. I don’t like breakfast food. But anyhow, the line was out the door, and the very terse centaur hostess told me in no uncertain terms that it would be at least two hours before she could seat me.”
I sigh, shooting him an understanding look. “Alba is direct on the best of days, but you’re right that the burger is absolutely fantastic there. You’re in luck, though; I was just about to replenish the breakfast buffet. It runs from eight to ten a.m. each morning except on the weekends.”
He winks. “You don’t happen to have burgers, do you?”
We laugh together as I shake my head. “No burgers, but I was just sautéing vegetables, and there’s plenty of variety. I’m so busy these days, it’s easier to justify a wide selection of offerings.” I return his wink. “And don’t worry, it’s not all traditional breakfast food.”
I take Gilbert’s credit card and hand him a key for his room—the mermaid-themed room upstairs. We head for the second floor, where I drop him off at his door and offer to give him a tour of Ever at any point, if he’d like one.
Remembering the vegetables, I rush back to the kitchen. The pan swirls slowly on the stove, the veggies sizzling and snapping.
