“You’re a saint.”

“We already determined that years ago.” Patty took two croissants out of a warming oven drawer and placed them in a napkin-lined basket. “Have your special friend tell you what she wants for breakfast. I’ll see what I can do. Or maybe,” she said with her usual cheek, “I’ll just cook what I want.”

Dominic gave her a look. “Maybe you’ll cook what Katherine wants today.”

“Whoa… did I really hear that?”

“Just be nice, Patty, okay? Do that for me?”

“Sure, Nicky. No problem.” Folding the napkin ends over the croissants, she handed the tray to Dominic. “But I’m expecting to meet a goddess after seeing you actually move your ass for a woman,” she said with a wink.

He swore at her, and she grinned. “Just for starters I’ll make French toast with caramelized bananas and crème fraîche. But I’m open to orders, boss. You know that.”

He didn’t, of course, because Patty hadn’t taken an order in the sixteen years she’d worked for him. But she cooked like she surfed, perfect form, and to-die-for creativity, so he’d never complained. And she was looking serious and sincere, which was a hopeful sign. “Thanks, Patty. Now be nice to Katherine. I like her.”

No shit, Patty thought, watching Dominic’s retreating form. Let me mark this day on the never-thought-it-would-happen calendar.

When Kate and Dominic came down to breakfast, Kate did a quick double take because Patty was close to Dominic’s age, blond and beautiful in a cool Nordic way, and in great shape, and she wondered if they were more than employer/employee. But she reminded herself that Dominic had been relatively open with her last night… or as capable as he was of openness—so she had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Dominic introduced the women.

“Nice to meet you,” Patty said, taking in Kate’s cuff bracelets without expression.

“Same here.” Kate smiled, ignoring Patty’s glance. “The coffee and croissants were fabulous. Did you make the croissants?”

Patty nodded and grinned. “That’s why Nicky pays me the big bucks.”

Dominic didn’t know where Patty was going with that smart-ass grin, so he said, “Breakfast smells good. Are you ready for us?”

“Sure, boss.”

Patty calling him boss wasn’t reassuring. Dominic gave her a warning glance as he followed Kate to the table. And whether she acknowledged it or not, she was super polite as they ate.

Patty’s French toast was truly decadent, as was a fruit plate that could have been on display in a museum, and the coffee was everything coffee should be: hot, a teeny bit sweet, and strong, with just a trace of austerity to remind you of the reason you drank coffee.

Patty sat at the kitchen table with them and talked about her husband and children. She got up to point out pictures of her family on the kitchen walls—on Dominic’s kitchen walls, Kate reflected. And she was actually a little brusque with Dominic at times. She called him Nicky too, like Melanie did. Kate liked that Dominic had people around him who were a part of his life—that he wasn’t completely alone.

Dominic worried that Patty was being too friendly and solicitous. But Katherine didn’t seem to notice. And when she praised Patty’s coffee, asking how she made it, what type of coffee she used, and if she could get some for her grandmother, the ice—if there had been any—had broken, melted, and evaporated into the atmosphere.

Patty couldn’t do enough for Katherine. Because, she figured, (1) the very first woman Dominic had brought to this house warranted special treatment and (2) those cuff bracelets Katherine was wearing were really out there for someone like Dominic, who kept his kink private. So Patty actually ran her day’s menu past Katherine in the event some of the food didn’t appeal.

Kate said, “I eat anything,” then blushed so sweetly, Patty didn’t wonder that she appealed to Dominic after years of women who wouldn’t know how to blush if their lives depended on it.

And when they left after breakfast to go up on the roof to sit in the sun, Patty murmured as Dominic left the kitchen, “She’s a keeper, Nicky. You did good.”

From the rooftop, the view of the Golden Gate Bridge was postcard worthy, the sun warm as they lay side by side on chaises, the sense of contentment thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

“Happy?” Dominic touched Kate’s hand, then slid his finger over the gold bracelet.

She smiled. “Oh, yeah. You?”

“More than you know,” he said gently, looking forward to being with her in London. “Sleep if you want. We have until ten.”

“And?”

“The attorney comes at ten.”

“You sure you want to do this? You don’t have to do it for me. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

He kept his voice benign; previous talk of shackling her to his bed hadn’t been greeted with approval. “Contracts are routine for me. Humor me, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. You’re the one who’s used to exercising his sexual freedom. Exclusivity isn’t a problem for me. I don’t want anyone else. You know that.”

She made it sound so simple, when it had never been simple before.

When he’d never been interested in simplicity when it came to the women in his life. Even Julia had brought with her exotic adventure and thrill-seeking world travel. Now he was happy and content doing nothing, lying here with Katherine, the sun warm on his face, the person who gave meaning to his life beside him.