Paint the Town Red (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book II)

Spoil the Breakfast

"Should I be worried?" the Titan asked softly.

Petra jolted, and her teeth clanked on the edge of her cup.

"Pardon?" She hastily took a sip and realised the cup was empty.

The Titan lifted his Wedgewood to his mouth, and Petra valiantly tried to avoid staring at his lips.

"Should I be worried considering you hardly said a word all through our breakfast, and I keep catching you watching me?" he asked, lowering the cup. "Intently."

"I just have this nagging feeling..." Petra drew out pensively.

"It must be last night's champagne," he offered her an explanation and bit into his toast.

"I'm not hung over," Petra answered indignantly. "The champagne was excellent, and what followed—"

"Yes?" His left eyebrow rose, and the hackneyed twinkle danced in his eyes.

"—was very much satisfactory as well," Petra muttered.

"Good," he said.

"And yet I can't get rid of this— this feeling that something's missing. That I'm missing something." She stirred in her empty cup, looked down, and then stared at the spoon in confusion. "Not that something's amiss, but something is actually there, but I'm missing it. Do you understand?"

"I can't say I do," he said and chuckled.

"Well, you know how people say they're afraid to be alone in the dark. What they're actually afraid of is not being alone in the dark." Petra waved her spoon in the air. "So, I'm not saying something is missing this morning. I'm saying there's something I haven't noticed or don't understand - but it's here." Petra gestured between them with her utensil. "And it bothers me."

He hummed noncommittal and looked at her once again over his cup.

"Now, you see, it might be just this impenetrable facade of yours, but I look at you and wonder if you're harbouring a dark secret," Petra said.

"Quite a few. I didn't know you cared," he said.

"Hm..." Petra scratched the back of her head with the spoon's other end and squinted at the man. "No, I have nothing."

"Well, then there's nothing to worry about," he deadpanned and picked up the paper from the crisp white tablecloth near his elbow.

Petra poured herself more tea and started nibbling on a biscuit.

"Petra..." the Titan purred from behind the sports section. "You're doing it again."

Petra's jaw spasmed, and she bit into the sweet with unnecessary pressure.

"You can't see me stare!" she exclaimed. "You're reading your paper!"

He lowered one corner, and she saw a dashing lop-sided smirk on his lips. Petra swooned.

"Darling," he murmured, "what is it?"

"Could you do me a favour?" Petra said in a small voice, and he put the paper aside and gave her an attentive look. "Could you promise me that if you know what it is that's bothering my overzealous intuition, you'll just tell me?" She folded her hands in front of her chest in a pleading gesture. "Please?"

"I'm truly at loss here," he said. "I doubt you're speaking of my business dealings, and the orphans and widows left hungry and penniless due to my shady machinations—" He interrupted himself by laughing loudly. "The terror on your face! There are no machinations, and no... les misérables."