Perfect Morning

After the Anderson family was done with dinner, they moved to the patio per Muna's order.

She just wanted to see her family happy before the heavens finally call upon her.

A maid walked towards them with glasses and a bottle of wine. "Did you get water or soft drinks for my dear cousin?" Arthur's son, who was two years older than Coyle, asked, and the maid shook her head.

"Sorry, sir, I will go get it now."

"No need" Coyle chimed in; he didn't want to toast to whatever they were about to toast to.

"You see Hazel, Coyle is allergic to wine." Arthur's son, Damon, added, and Hazel couldn't believe it. Can someone even be allergic to wine?

She stared at Coyle, who didn't confirm what Damon said: "So whenever you feel like going out for a drink, then hit me up. I will make sure to take good care of you." Damon added, and Coyle glared at him before Damon burst out in laughter.

"What's that look, brother? I am just kidding," he laughed, and Arthur pointed at the bottle of wine.

"You should poor the wine, Damon."

This caused Damon to sneer, "I am older than Coyle; why do I get to poor the wine?"

Coyle stood up and signaled for Hazel to do the same, which she did. He stared at his grandma before he said, "It's late now, Muna; we could do this some other time."

Muna nodded with a sad tone; she knew she couldn't stop him from leaving. He was fund of leaving after an hour when he showed up; maybe that's where his patience ended.

"Good night, grandma, uncle, aunty." Hazel bowed slightly to Arthur and his wife, who nodded; her gaze moved to his son and daughter. Damon winked at her, and she felt disgusted and looked away.

"Killing someone wasn't on my agenda tonight," Coyle muttered before he wrapped his hand around Hazel's waist, and they walked to his car before the driver took off.

While back at the mansion, Hazel was all freshened up and sat before the mirror brushing her hair while her mind drifted to the dinner gathering.

"God," she was trying to understand what it was all about, but she couldn't.

"So his grandma had three kids? Arthur, Samantha, and his dad..." She tried to break things down so she could understand how tragic the family is.

"Samantha hates Coyle; shouldn't it be the reverse?" Hazel sighed heavily, the bathroom door pushed open, and Coyle walked out. He walked to the bed with a frown.

Hazel felt guilty; if she hadn't mentioned the family gathering, then they wouldn't have gone there, and he wouldn't have been in a bad mood.

So she tried to ease the atmosphere; her gaze moved to her phone, and she picked it up and walked to the bed.

"I... I don't have your contact information," she said, her voice just above a whisper, as it was a little embarrassing that she didn't have her husband's information.

Coyle picked up his phone and dialed her contact; she stared at the unknown number calling her in disbelief.

"I don't remember giving you mine." Hazel stated, and Coyle nodded. He scanned her face for a while before he said.

"Tonight you aren't trying to force yourself to sleep; does it mean you are getting comfortable with my presence?" he inquired, and there came the uncomfortability again.

Hazel quickly tucked herself in bed and closed her eyes. "I am sleepy now."

Coyle chuckled and watched her sleep. His phone rang, and he checked the caller-it was his assistant Jude.

Coyle walked to the balcony before he picked up the call. "It better be important, seeing that you called at 10pm."

"The conference earlier was postponed to tomorrow because of you, so please, sir, will you show up for the conference tomorrow?" he pleaded, and Coyle had a frustrated look.

"You called me this late for this?"

"The conference is important; just show up," Jude scolded in a frustrated tone. Coyle had a frown on his face when Jude quickly said.

"I am sorry about that; just I had given them my words that you will be there."

"Jude," Coyle called, his gaze moving to Hazel, who must have already fallen asleep. He had better plans for tomorrow than to attend some boring conference.

"Attend the conference, take down notes, and email them to me." He hung up and walked back to the room, his gaze on Hazel's face.

"She is so pretty even when sleeping," a smile curled on his lips, and he clicked a picture of her.

–

The next morning, Hazel beat Coyle to it and woke up super early when he was still having a shower, as she could hear the sound of pouring water from the bathroom.

She had an excited look and quickly hurried downstairs to the kitchen; even the maid wasn't yet awake.

Quickly, she made breakfast and placed it on the table. Coyle walked downstairs dressed in a blue suit; he was shocked to find Hazel by the dining table.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously. She pointed at the meal she made.

"I made breakfast," she said, and he checked his watch.

"It's 5am," Coyle brought to her notice, and she nodded; she knew that as she had already checked the time.

Just she felt bad that he had to leave for work without having breakfast; home-made breakfast will always beat office breakfast, so she thought.

Coyle stared at her in disbelief. It would be rude if he left without having breakfast. "Don't do this next time; it's stressful," he said, and she didn't respond. Hazel planned to do this every morning.

"I will eat if you sit and talk to me about something random." Having breakfast made by her and also listening to her talk was like the perfect morning for Coyle.

Hazel thought for a while before she pulled the chair and sat. "So... what do you want me to talk about?" She had nothing to talk about; her life was boring and was also everything the eyes saw-nothing to hide.

Coyle picked the toast and rubbed some butter before he thought for a while, "You could tell me if you still think about Max Wilson." 

Hazel stared at him in disbelief. Did he really want to have such a conversation?