CHAPTER 44
RILEY SIGHED WITH pleasure, marveling over the perfection of the omelet, butter-kissed and golden, bursting with crisp vegetables and the sharp tang of some cheese she couldn’t identify. There was fruit salad, a gorgeous array of colors, spritzed with fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice and pared peppermint leaves.
“I was short on time, so just muffins today,” Skillet said. “Maybe rolls or pastries tomorrow. If we’re still here.”
“The muffins are great,” Riley assured him, savoring a bite of blueberry and streusel. “Thanks so much, Skillet. This is awesome.”
There were murmurings of agreement. Riley noticed Skillet shooting furtive glances at Mr. Snowden, who ate with apparent vigor, and wondered what prompted the trace of smug satisfaction on the chef’s face. The meal was serve
