Chapter 123: Cooking Meat and a Mistaken Beethoven

Soft music greets me as I step off Ryland's elevator later in the day. Classical if I had to guess, but I've never been into the finer arts and couldn't tell you who. Someone long dead probably.

Halfway down his short hallway, the smell of cooking meat and sauce mixes in with the notes from a piano solo from speakers positioned throughout the condo.

"Beethoven?" I give it my best guess.

He stands with his back turned in his kitchen. "No, Bach," he answers and I shrug. I know a limited number of dead composers.

I toss my purse on the side table I've claimed as mine over the last few days and grab my mail. Ryland's started picking it up for me since it saves me a trip to the lobby. Don't give me any crap. It's no big deal. Just Ryland's way to make life easier on me. It's not like I've grown to enjoy the almost couple-ish routine we've found ourselves in the past few days. Not at all.