The next morning, Jackson was getting dressed after his shower when he heard dishes clatter in the kitchen. Checking the time, he saw it was too early for his housekeeper. When he opened his bedroom door, he caught a delicious smell. Was that butter sizzling in a hot pan?

He finished pulling on his T-shirt and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Meghan was at the stove with her back to him. She was also barefoot, wearing jeans and a black shirt, and humming to herself as she flipped pancakes.

Pausing in the door for a moment, he admired her runner’s build. Her long dreadlocks were tied up into a complicated knot that showed off the long, elegant line of her neck. She swayed slightly as she hummed, moving in time to a tune he wasn’t sure he knew. Perhaps one she’d made up? When he’d known her, she’d always been writing songs.

“Hey,” he said.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Morning. I hope you don’t mind me invading your kitchen and raiding your fridge, but I thought you might like a cooked breakfast.”

“I thought you were a musician,” he said in a mock stern tone. “Do you know what time it is? You’re breaking every stereotype in the book being up this early.”

“I know, but the bed was really soft and I’m not used to it. I dreamed I was in a padded coffin. Everybody thought I was dead, and I was too comfortable to tell them I wasn’t. I was just going to let them bury me, can you believe it? In my dream, it was better to be buried alive than to have to get up.”

He slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “That’s why you got up?”

“Wouldn’t you?” She turned, holding a plate of steaming pancakes. “Tell me you like a big breakfast.”

“I usually just have coffee.”

“Really?” She put the plate down in front of him and handed him the syrup. “But all the best foods are breakfast foods, like yogurt, and bananas, and pancakes. I’d rather miss any other meal but breakfast.”

“The pancakes smell good.” He poured a generous amount of syrup over them and took a bite. “And they taste as good as they smell.”

She put another plate down and took the stool next to his. “If you don’t bother with breakfast, does that mean you have a big lunch?”

“If I’m home, Selina fixes me a sandwich.”

“Your housekeeper, right? I met her yesterday.”

He nodded. “My chef only cooks my evening meal, unless I have guests.”

She swallowed a bite of pancake, her eyebrows raised. “How many women does it take to look after you?”

“Only three. No, wait. One of the gardeners is a woman, too. Make that four women and two men. Plus my security guards and driver.”

“I didn’t realize you were so high maintenance.”

“With people to take care of everything else, I’m free to concentrate on work.” He put his knife and fork down and got up. “You want coffee?”

“Sounds great.”

While he was prepping the coffee machine, Selina came in. His housekeeper had been wiping her hands on the apron tied around her ample waist, but she stopped abruptly when she saw them.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Brent. I didn’t know you and your guest were in here.” Like Freya, Selina always called him Mr. Brent, though he’d suggested numerous times that she call him Jackson.

“You want to join us for pancakes?” asked Meghan, hooking her thumb at the feast on the breakfast bar.

“Oh, no.” Selina’s brow creased at the shocking suggestion. “Thank you, but I’m afraid I have work to do.”

“You sure?” Meghan asked. “There’s plenty. And breakfast’s the best meal of the day, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” said Selina with a polite smile. “Maybe next time. Thank you.”

His housekeeper disappeared in the direction of the laundry, and Meghan gave Jackson a sideways look. “You must be a whip cracker if she wouldn’t even take a break for pancakes.”

“Hey, I’m not a bad boss. I let her take a five minute break every fourteen hours or so. Ten minutes if it’s her birthday.”

Meghan pointed her fork at him. “Good thing my mother isn’t here or she’d think you were serious. She’d call Amnesty International and make plans to smuggle that poor woman out of here.”

“Does your mother still feed stray cats?” he asked with a smile, remembering all the times Meghan would complain that the cats got better meals than she did.

“Stray cats, the neighbor’s dog, wild birds, mice, rats, and the occasional possum. She’s more short-sighted than ever, and doesn’t realize how many creatures she’s actually feeding.”

Jackson laughed. “You know the only reason I stayed with the band was because of those cheese pastry things she used to make us when we practiced at your place?”

That was a bare-faced lie. He’d fallen so hard for the lead singer, it would never have crossed his mind to quit the band, cheese snacks or not. Back then, Meghan had worn a school uniform instead of a leather jacket, but her sense of humor hadn’t changed.

Meghan gave a wistful sigh. “I miss those so much.”

“These pancakes are good too,” he said with his mouth full.

“Cooking breakfast was the least I could do.” She met his gaze with her clear blue eyes. She hadn’t lined them with black makeup this morning, but they were still arresting. They still captured and held him effortlessly. With those eyes, she could make him a prisoner any time she liked.

“I’m going to accept your offer,” she said, her tone becoming formal. “I don’t need a trial run. You’ve been very generous, and I’d be crazy to turn it down.”

“Good.” As this was a short-term business relationship, there was no reason to feel as pleased as he did. He kept his tone level and his expression bland by focusing on his breakfast rather than on her. “I’ll need to work late today, but I’ll pick you up at seven for the costume party.”

“You’ll be at work all day?”

Did she sound disappointed? Or was that wishful thinking?

“Freya will be here,” he said. “She’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Is it okay if I use your studio today? This could be a great chance to record some songs. If you won’t need me for anything during the day, that is.”

“Of course. The house is yours. Only my office is off limits.”

“Where’s your office?”

The question sounded innocent, but it gave him an uncomfortable feeling. The last thing he wanted in his head was Derrick’s voice of paranoia, but he still heard it whispering to him.

“The room with the locked door.”

“I’m confused. If your office is here, where are you going today?”

Another innocent question, and if it weren’t for Derek, he wouldn’t have felt another twinge of suspicion. Damn his operations manager and his grudge against women.

“I have an office here, and one in town. Because I have meetings scheduled, going in will be easier.” He poured a little more syrup on his pancakes. “Don’t forget you’ll need to spend some time trying on costumes for tonight. Freya will help.”

She grimaced. “Tonight will be the first time I’ll ever be dressed as a lady. With luck, it’ll also be the last.”

With such distaste in her tone, how could he resist teasing her?

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in long skirts and petticoats. And don’t forget to practice your curtsey, Lady Paige. If you’re going to stay in character, you’ll need to be demure.”

He suppressed a grin at her expression. The party’s organizers could hardly have picked a theme less suited to Meghan’s personality. But wasn’t that the point of wearing a costume?

“Laugh all you like.” She arched her eyebrows. “It won’t be so funny when you have to struggle into a frock coat and those skin-tight leggings they used to wear back then. Lord Brent won’t look any less ridiculous than Lady Paige.” Now it was her turn to smirk. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m looking forward to it. Gentlemen wore lots of frills, didn’t they? I can hardly wait to see you in a shirt with a lacy collar. You’re going to look adorable.”

Words temporarily failing him, Jackson ate another pancake instead. One thing he was one hundred percent certain of, costume party or not, he would never, not ever, wear a single frill. And for that matter, he didn’t plan to wear leggings, ruffles, lace, or any article of clothing with ‘frock’ in its name.

And why should he? He’d built an entire career on doing things his competition didn’t expect. Tonight’s party would be no exception.