island. She pulled a package of jumbo shrimp and a head

nobs. She tapped the digital screen. A red error light flashed. She pre

ormal kitchen knife, she found a set of heavy, German steel chef's knives. S

terrifyingly sharp. It slipped on the onion skin and sliced a millimeter away

They began to burn. Tears welled up and spi

the shrimp. Her hands were shaking. The plastic packaging tore open unevenly.

knocking into a tall glass grinder of black pepper. It tipped ov

dy swung open. Harrison strod

roken glass, the error light blinking on the stove, and C

t the counter. "I am sor

p to her, reached past her waist, and picke

spenser and shoved it into her hand

uffled to the far end of the islan

over a barstool. He rolled up the sleeves of his

were precise and unhurried. He tapped a specific sequence

he remaining onion into perfect, uniform squar

ly open. She realized her cooking s

p in, flipping them with a flick of his wrist until they turned a per

over his shoulde

heavy ceramic plates and silverware, and arranged them on

two plates of perfectly plated shrimp linguine. He

, save for the clinking

e. The burst of flavor only made the heavy

. "I am sorry. I am com

halfway to his mouth. He loo

a free maid," he said. His v

d not comfort her; it only reminded her that she

e stood up and reached for his

t," he said, his voice dropping its sharp edge. "I will

igh-end dishwasher. He pressed a button, and the machine

and walked down the hallway to her bedroom, fee