64- Her Fake Mustache

When she came out of her room for breakfast, he was already there with his phone in the crook of his neck, the laptop was opened before him, and he was engrossed in his work.

“What should I make for your breakfast?” Greta asked her in a hushed tone, “Mr. Garner hasn’t eaten his breakfast yet. He was waiting for you.”

“Just make whatever you are preparing for him,” she said casually and scurried to the dining table with a small smile.

He looked up, their eyes met for a moment. He nodded, acknowledging her presence, and then got busy again.

She quietly tapped a spoon on his shoulder. He glanced at her while speaking on the phone, “Yes, please. Make them do it now. I don’t want them to lose it this time.”

He covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “I am sorry. Some unexpected work problem came up and now they want me to go to the office and dig in deep.”

“Oh!” she mouthed but didn’t say anything.

Placing a fist under her chin, she eyed him with fondness. He looked so fresh in that olive gr