No, actually, the best part was eating risotto in a hammock as the sun set. The clean kitchen is just a bonus.
Tonight was a night for macaroni and cheese. Something gooey and fattening – food that went straight to your hips, but on the way it felt like a warm blanket. Emily stared at the e-mail from her boss. “Needs to be rewritten. See me.” Attached, her life's work. The few comments were ambiguous except for their negativity: “Wrong,” “Awful,” and “You write like a drunk preschooler.”
Her phone buzzed, Malcolm checking in with some witty remark. Emily smiled for a moment. “Texting on company time, Emily?” her boss asked, behind her.
Maybe ice cream, too.
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