Kendrick woke to the scent of toast. He blinked against the pale light slipping through the curtains, sat up slowly, and rubbed a hand over his face. The apartment was quiet, save for the clink of a mug against the counter.
He stepped into the kitchen to find Zephany in one of his oversized sweaters, barefoot, hair pinned messily at the back of her head. She had her phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, nodding while half-focused on buttering the toast.
"Yeah, I'll send the draft this afternoon," she murmured. "No, I didn't forget the call. Nine-thirty. I'm still a professional, Pia."
She glanced up, startled when she noticed him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with a small smile.
"…Okay. Okay, fine. I'll tell you how it goes." She hung up, sliding the phone onto the counter. "You have a smug face. Why do you have a smug face?"
He walked over, reaching for the mug beside her. "You're wearing my sweater."
