He hadn’t specified what time she should go over, and she didn’t want to appear overly eager. He’d said he would be home by 6:30. He’d probably shower and eat dinner, which would take an hour if he was being a prima donna about it, which she assumed he was. She was certain his skincare routine consisted of no less than seventeen steps to keep that pale creamy skin of his forever young. She doubted he cooked, so he probably ate a lot of takeout or had a house elf cook for him. And by takeout, she meant he probably ordered five-course meals from the most expensive restaurants in town.  