Part 10 (1/2)

When Dean set down the plate, she stared aghast at the scrambled eggs, sausage patties, grilled tomatoes, and three pieces of toast. ”This is more food than I'd usually eat all day.”

”I guess that's why you're so...”

”So what?”

”Nothing.”

”What?”

”Skinny.” His ears slowly turning red, Dean set the cutlery neatly on each side of the plate and hurried back into the kitchen. ”I'll, uh, get you another coffee, then.”

While his back was turned. Claire rolled her eyes. She was not skinny; she was pet.i.te. And he was so, in rapid succession she considered and discarded intense, earnest, and stalwart. Before she worked her way down to yeomanly, she decided she'd best settle on young and leave it at that. ”Aren't you having any?” she asked as he returned with her mug.

A little surprised, he shook his head. ”I ate before you got up.”

”That was hours ago. Bring another plate, you can have half of this.”

”If I bring another plate...” Austin began.

”No.” When Dean hesitated, Claire prodded at his conscience. ”Trust me, I'm not going to eat all of it; it'll just get thrown out.”

A few moments later, a less intimidating breakfast in front of her and Dean eating hungrily on the other side of the table the way only a young man who'd gone three hours without eating could, Claire turned suddenly toward the cat and said, ”You're sure he's a part of this?”

”I'm positive.”

”You were positive that time in Gdansk, too.”

Austin snorted. ”So my Polish was a little rusty, sue me.” He stared pointedly up at her, his tail flicking off the seconds like a furry metronome.

”All right. You win.” Chewing and swallowing a forkful of tomato delayed the inevitable only a few moments more. Feeling the weight of Dean's gaze join the cat's, she lifted her head and cleared her throat. ”First of all, I want you to realize that what I'm about to tell you is privileged information and is not to be repeated. To anyone. Ever.”

Wrapped in the comforting and lingering odors of sausage and egg, Dean ran through a fast replay of the morning's events. ”Nothing personal, but who'd believe me?”

”You'd be surprised. When I got up today, I didn't expect I'd be telling it to you.” Eyes narrowed, she leaned forward. ”If this information falls into the wrong hands...”

Unable to help himself. Dean mirrored her movement and lowered his voice dramatically. ”The fate of the world is at stake?”

”Yes.”

When he realized she meant it, he could've sworn he felt each individual hair rise off the back of his neck. It was an unpleasant sensation. He pushed his chair away from the table, all of a sudden not really hungry. ”Okay. Maybe you'd better not tell me.”

Claire shot an annoyed look at the cat. ”Too late.”

”But you don't even know me. You don't know you can trust me.”

The possibility of not trusting him hadn't crossed her mind. Total strangers probably handed him their packages while they bent to tie their shoelaces. If a game needed a scorekeeper, he'd always be the one drafted. Mothers could safely leave small children with him and return hours later knowing that their darlings had been fed, watered, and harmlessly amused. And he does windows.

”I know we can trust you,” Austin muttered, leaping up onto an empty chair and glaring over the edge of the table at a piece of uneaten sausage. ”Get on with it. I'm old. I haven't got all day. Are you going to finish that?”

”Yes.” While she cleared her plate, Claire created and sc.r.a.pped several possible beginnings. Finally, she sighed. ”I suppose Austin's right...”