The house was already bustling by the time I woke up the next morning.
Roman was, surprisingly, making breakfast on his own. We usually just grabbed a yogurt parfait or smoothie the cook left in the refrigerator. Roman wasn't that into having a hot breakfast, and due to my aversion of soupy oatmeal, neither was I. But the fact that Roman was making eggs had to mean he had something up his sleeve.
"Want some scrambled eggs?" he asked.
I spied Lori sitting at the table with a plate of yellow in front of her. She secretly shook her head no, warning me.
"I guess?" I said, not wanting to hurt Roman's feelings. He handed me a plate with a bunch of runny eggs almost slipping off.
"Umm, looks good," I lied. "What's with the breakfast?" I asked.
"I just wanted to get a good start to the day. Thought this would be a good thing. You know, like the tennis - trying new things."
