She opened a cupboard to get down plates while he pulled the lasagne out of the oven and frowned and looked over her shoulder at him. “I knew it.”
“What?”
“You rarely spend time here.” She lifted the two plates in the cupboard and the motioned to the two glasses. “You have two because if one is dirty, you have the other, but you don’t bring anyone here and you don’t come here often.”
“True. I own a private island off the coast of California.”
“It’s the sexy island with a beach Magda told me about.”
He chuckled, “she called it sexy?”
“No. She called it a prison,” she took perverse pleasure in his scowl. “She told us how she lounged around all day in silk pjs on a pristine white beach. I imagine it to be sexy. She felt otherwise.”
He shrugged, “her loss. She would have had more fun wi
