Mia Like Crazy by Nina Cordoba

end. I should have been angry with him. He knew the kiss on the hand wasn’t the deal I’d meant to make, but as an attorney, I respected his ability to find the loophole in the contract. Besides, I had experienced more sensation from that kiss on the hand than I had from any touch I’d had from a man, ever.
    So, I wasn’t in the mood to quibble. I was still bad at waiting, though, so I decided to be a good sport and see if there was anything I could do in the kitchen—unlikely as that was.
    I walked over and pushed the swinging door. It opened noiselessly. Planning to ask for “permission to come aboard,” I was stopped short by the scene in front of me. Drew was busily chopping vegetables on a cutting board and periodically stirring something that was boiling on the stove, and humming. Yes, he was humming, and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. I hated to intrude, since, so far, I hadn’t seen him looking so carefree, but he caught me before I could make a discreet exit.
    “Did you need something, Medina?” he asked casually.
    Oh, we’re back to that again. I guess I should have said, “Call me by my first name, forever.”
    “No, I was going to check to see if you wanted me to do anything in here.”
    “ Can you do anything in here?” he asked doubtfully.
    I had to laugh. “Well, if you don’t mind giving me a little instruction.”
    “Okay, I have an easy job for you. Stir the pasta so it doesn’t stick.”
    “Do you think I’m qualified?” I asked in a goofy voice.
    “No, but it’s hard to find good help,” he answered. “Why were you leaving the kitchen without saying anything?” He scraped the vegetables from the cutting board into a pot.
    “You looked like you were enjoying your solitude, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
    “Yeah, well, I get plenty of solitude.” He seemed to realize he was taking the conversation in the wrong direction, and changed his tone. “Did I tell you I liked your outfit?”
    Finally, the compliment I’d been waiting for this morning. “You mean the one with the lavender top?” If he was imagining me in it, I wanted him to get the mental picture right.
    “No, the one you’re wearing now.” He cocked an eyebrow, and swept his eyes over my body.
    “ This isn’t an ‘outfit,’” I replied. “This is my ‘wanting to be comfortable hanging around the house when no one is going to see me’ garb.”
    He took the spoon from me and stirred the pasta himself, proving that I really wasn’t qualified. “Then why were you going to wear it to fly to the city?”
    “I’m sure, once I got out of here and noticed what I was wearing, I would have stopped somewhere and changed.”
    “Oh, if you feel that way about it, you may want to go up and change while I finish this. We’re leaving. Housekeeper’s coming in an hour.” He said it like it was a perfectly good explanation for needing to vacate the premises.
    “Does the housekeeper have a name?”
    “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”
    “What is it?” I asked impatiently.
    “Mary or Maria or Hilda or something,” Drew answered disinterestedly.
    “So, she’s of British, Puerto Rican, German descent?”
    “I told you, I never see her.”
    “You had to hire her.”
    “No, I didn’t. Meridith did. She says she has excellent references. ” On the last two words, he sounded like he was mimicking his sister.
    “Are you telling me you’ve never even laid eyes on her?”
    “Yeah.”
    “How do you pay her?”
    “I leave money on the table.”
    I was too exasperated to finish this conversation. “I’ll go get dressed,” I sighed, realizing no logic was going to sway him from his state of semi-reclusiveness.
    At least I would get to see the Vaughn Estate. Meridith was so accommodating, I knew I could get a full tour if I asked.
    I came downstairs as Drew was putting platefuls of pasta on the table. “I guess I have perfect timing,” I said.
    “No, I do, but you’d better eat fast, she’s