After putting a few basic things into the bathroom, leaving most of my shit in the suitcase since that was how my siblings and I had always lived—out of suitcases—so it was what was most natural to me, I decided to follow my growling stomach to the kitchen, hoping someone had stocked the fridge and pantry for us.
"Hey," I called after knocking on Katie's door, hearing something drop inside before her feet shuffled across the floor. "Don't worry. Just me. No cannibals. Though, before I turn into one, I am going to see about raiding the kitchen. Want to come?"
The door flew open, and there she was, inexplicably with a big sweatshirt over her t-shirt and sweater. I was starting to suspect she was the reason the office always felt like the thermostat was set at hell when I arrived.
"I haven't had anything since the airplane snack," she told me.
"Hopefully, we can do better than that," I said, heading down, hearing her more tentative steps following behind. "It's our lucky day," I declared, opening the fridge, finding it so stocked that it would be a game of Tetris to get things out and back in when we needed them. At least for a few days. "Let's see. I can make... sandwiches. Eggs. And passably edible hot dogs."
"How can you mess up a hot dog?" she shot back, making me turn to find her a little wide-eyed, like she was worried she'd offended me.
"My siblings tell me you're not supposed to fry them in a pan with butter."
"That's because you're not," she agreed, shaking her head. "I, ah, I think eggs will work. If you don't do anything weird to them. I mean, I will eat whatever. I'm not picky. I just—"
"Hey, Katie?" I asked, cutting her off.
"Yeah?"
"How do you like our eggs?"
"Um scrambled. Or in a basket. But make them however you like them. It's fine. I will ea—"
"In a basket it is," I cut her off again, and I couldn't be sure, but she seemed relieved that I stopped her from rambling.
I set to cooking while Katie attempted to sit at the island only to jump up, putting away the egg carton, then sitting down, then jumping up to grab glasses when I went to get some orange juice.
She either didn't know how to relax, or she had too much nervous energy about being away from all her creature comforts.
I made the food, and plated it up, both of us sitting down at the oversize island.
"Christ, it's quiet," I decided, hearing every bite and chew from the two of us, the rustle of the trees outside, the scratching of a branch against the side of the house. "No wonder you were so freaked being here alone." To that, I got no response. "I guess we should enjoy it now. Once everyone else shows up, it's going to get loud."
But after eating and cleaning up then roaming around while Katie curled up with a book in the game room, I was starting to wonder if we would be having any other coworkers joining us this night. It was certainly seeming less and less likely.
Maybe they had booked evening flights so they could get to the cabin in the morning or early afternoon, giving them time to explore outside before being cooped up all together inside.
"I'm going to go take a walk around outside, see if I can find a signal anywhere, call Fee. See when everyone else is coming. Then we will know if we should lock up for the night and head to bed, or wait to help everyone else. Don't worry," I added, giving her a smirk as she reached up to flip her glasses down from the top of her head to see me, "if I come across toothless, cannibalistic, mountain men, I will be sure to lead them away from the cabin."
"It's not too much to ask," she quipped, giving me an uncertain smile.
With that, I moved out to the front path, taking out my phone, walking around like some idiot in a horror movie, trying to call someone, anyone for help.
In the end, though, I'd walked around for an hour to no avail, sighing as I tucked my phone away.
If nothing else, we had food, shelter, warmth, and neither of us were alone in the middle of the woods. It could be a lot worse.
Sure, Katie wasn't much of a talker, but I imagined that had a lot to do with the fact that she needed someone to bring that side out of her.
"Looks like we are out of luck," I told her as I walked back into the game room, dropping down on the far end of the couch from her. "Hey, that ones's not bad," I said, nodding.
"That what?" she asked, brows pinching at me, and I couldn't tell if it was confusion or because she couldn't see me now that her glasses were on top of her head again.
"That book. It's not bad. I mean, it's not great either, but not a complete waste of time."
"Wait," she said, bookmarking her page then pulling her glasses down on her face again. "You... you read this book?"
"Yeah. Couple months back."
"This is a romance book," she said, eyes scrunching up.
"That explains why I found it in the romance section. And why there was so much screwing in it," I agreed, smiling when a flush crept up across her cheeks. You never really saw a woman blush anymore. It was sweet.
"Wait... no," she said, shaking her head. "You don't read romance."
"I do, actually," I told her, shrugging. After years of ribbing on the topic from my brothers—as well as the Mallicks in my extended family—I had long since gotten over the embarrassment over the topic that used to have me exclusively ordering the books online or reading on my phone, so no one knew what I was looking at. "It's good research."
"Ah, research?" she repeated, not getting it.
"For the job, baby. You'd think my work would be easy, but after a while, you start to run out of new ways to phrase the same things, new fantasies to sell the callers. That's where the books come in. My family gives me shit about it, but if you ask me, if you want to know what women want, you should read a romance. Written by women for women, giving them exactly what they want. Though, I am more of a fan of the kinds with action plots. MCs, mafia, shit like that."
"Because you don't like the, ah, you know, the romance part?"
"The romance part is fine. I just like when shit blows up, or someone gets shot, or there is a car chase." She would understand that more if she knew about my past life, but you didn't bring up armed robbery to practical strangers. Especially since we'd never been caught, and the statute of limitations might have still been ongoing in a few of the cases.
Back in Navesink Bank, it was common for a lot of the people you brushed shoulders with to know about your criminal past, and not to judge you for it, since so many of them were in the same boat.
That said, the normal people, they didn't know all the dirty details. Clearly, they simply didn't want to. They wanted to put their head in the sand about it. Otherwise, they wouldn't have settled down in a place like Navesink Bank in the first place.
Katie was as normal as normal came. She went to work, she did her best, she never got into trouble. The woman probably never lied or did anything shady in her entire life.
It was admirable.
But it also meant she couldn't truly understand my still-intact adrenaline-junkie tendencies.
"They're like a late-night, premium-channel show," she said, pulling me out of my thoughts that, inexplicably, had turned to thinking it was sweet how her giant glasses slid down her small nose.