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Home Sweet Home
It was nice, coming back home to the Manor with Brandon and finding everything was fine. I left him working in the study and took my laptop to the kitchen, determined to update my diary before dinner. His text only twenty minutes later made me chuckle: the Haunter Supreme was thirsty. I had bought the coffeemaker for the study, along with a water dispenser, and had set them in a pretty display with tea, coffee, mugs, spoons and everything required to enjoy an infusion without needing to go any further than two steps away from the desk. But nope, he fancied something cool with more flavor than plain fresh water.
So there I went, up the stairs all the way to the third floor, with the forty-ounce thermos bottle full of his mango juice just out of the fridge, thinking it’d be nice once we set his office in the guesthouse with its own fridge. And I wouldn’t have to drop whatever I was doing to go wait Milord’s table.
Bullshit. I don’t know w
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