When the plate is empty and half the pie gone, Hardy pushes his chair back and stands up.
“Time for you to wash the dishes. Now up, up.”
“Me what?” Luke’s eyes widen.
“You. Dishes. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to wash dishes.”
“Eer…I do. I mean, I usually put them in the dishwasher, or my maids wash them. But, sure, I can wash the dishes. Yeah. Of course.”
Hardy forces himself not to laugh. “Do you need directions?”
“No!” Luke rushes to say. “I can wash the dishes. Please.”
Hardy purses his lips in contained laughter. “Alright, Luke. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
Hardy sits on the side of the sofa with a view to the kitchen’s sink—and Luke’s perky ass. He watches Luke work and struggles not to burst from laughing. It’s clear the boy has never washed a single dish in hi
