In the Eye of the Storm Read Free Page B

vanity, a deep and wide garden tub, a shower that looked like it could bathe four people with a double shower head!  It was like staying at a five star hotel! 
    Stripping out of the t-shirt Stephen had given her to sleep in, she grabbed some towels, stacked them outside of the shower and climbed in.  The hot water spray felt heavenly.  The soaps and shampoo were all brand new and from one of those designer bath shops that Holly never could afford to shop in.  Feeling completely decadent, she lathered up from head to toe – twice! – before getting out of the shower and drying off. 
    She put the soft and fluffy spa-quality robe on while she brushed her teeth and went in search of a blow dryer to try and do something with her hair.  With thick hair that went past her shoulders, it would take forever to dry on its own; she most definitely needed to dry it with more than a towel.  Finding one under the sink, she did the best she could without her usual styling products and brushes and less than thrilled with the results, she put the dryer back where she found it. 
    A quick look through her purse found a small variety of make up.  Luckily there had even been moisturizer in the well-stocked bathroom so by the time she put last night’s sweats back on – which luckily were now dry – she felt almost like her normal self.  One last look in the mirror told her what she already knew:  under normal circumstances, she would never, ever, go out in public like this.  But with no other choice, Holly straightened the room, grabbed her jacket and headed out of the door and down the stairs in search of Stephen.
    At the bottom of the curved wooden staircase, Holly heard the sounds of plates being moved around.  If that hadn’t drawn her attention, the enticing smell of food would have helped her find her mark.  Silently walking in to the kitchen, she expected to find the housekeeper there making the food that was causing her stomach to growl.  Instead, she found Stephen.  The sight
    of him dressed casually in flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt with his jet black hair still mussed from sleep and a days worth of stubble on his chin had Holly’s mouth going dry.  The normally impeccably dressed in a suit and tie Stephen who, in her opinion, looked like he was born to wear that ensemble, suddenly looked even better in his morning attire. 
    Shaking her head clear of those wayward thoughts, she cleared her throat to get Stephen’s attention.  “Good morning,” she said and he replied in kind.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked as he popped a couple of slices of bread in to the stainless steel toaster on the counter.  “I didn’t want to wake you but I was ravenous.”
    “Sure.  What are we having?”
    “Breakfast is the only meal that I can cook and, if I do say so myself, I cook it well.  I’ve got all of the makings of any kind of omelets you could want.”
    Holly raised her eyebrows in surprise.  “Really?”
              “Really.”
    “Okay,” she walked over to the butcher block island where he had all of his ingredients laid out and took it all in.  “I think I’ll have…hmmm…I think I’ll go with a Western one if that’s not too much trouble.”
    In response, Stephen held up the omelet pan that was already on the stove.  “Great minds think alike,” he said with a smile and Holly felt he stomach dip.  Had he always had that dimple?  “Coffee’s already made.” He pointed to the coffee maker at the end of the counter.  “Mugs are in the cabinet right above it.”
    Without a word, Holly helped herself and, as was habit, made his as well.  They worked together in silence and within minutes they were seated at the table overlooking the massive yard through the bay window. 
    “I cannot believe that it’s still raining,” Holly said after thanking Stephen for the plate he handed her.  “I thought for sure it would have moved on by now.”
    “I watched the weather report