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“I’m not taking money from you,” he said. He’d already paid off the place, and she was doing chores around the condo already. “You’ve been cleaning and doing laundry and things. That’s more than enough repayment.”
Celia shook her head. “That was in exchange for the transportation at night. I owe you more for staying here.”
When Trenton studied her face, there was a tightness around her eyes that made it obvious how serious she was. “I’ll think about it,” Trenton said, surprising himself.
The tension in her fingers eased. “Please let me know what you’d consider reasonable. If you don’t, I’ll decide. I should have enough after today’s shift to give you the first week.” She leaned forward, gripping her glass again before standing and heading back to her room.
Trenton stared after her. No, she wasn’t like his wife. Celia was much more complicated, and he was disappointed in himself. He thought he’d figured her out, but it turned out he hadn’t been paying enough attention at all.
Chapter 15
Celiapausedinliftingthe tray when Malcolm kept a hand on it. Her eyes raised to meet his.
“Ah, there you are.” He smiled at her, using his hand to shove back a stubborn lock of his hair that had slipped out of his bun. “I had forgotten how single-minded you could get when working on something. It used to happen when you studied as well.”
“And you never had to study,” Celia said. It had galled her, how he could wing things while she had to put so much attention into academics. Then she’d remember how much he had done for her, and the irritation would pass. He was the one person she’d never be able to pay back. He had changed her life—how could she put a price on that?
“Don’t be jealous,” he teased. “In all seriousness, you’ve been working straight through the Saturday lunch shift. When Katie gets here, take at least a half-hour break. It’s begun to slow down.”
She nodded to let him know she heard.
“I mean it, Celia. Don’t make me out to be a bad boss.” He gave her that look he was so good at, the one that told her he could see right through her.
“I wouldn’t mind sitting for a bit,” she admitted.
He glanced down at her legs. “You’ve been less stiff today. Did your knees heal up?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did Trenton tell you about that?” It hadn’t been one of her most shining moments, and she hated to think of him talking to Malcolm about it.
Malcolm lifted an eyebrow. “Since when do I need anyone to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“Well, that’s the truth,” a familiar voice said from behind Celia. She turned to see her other cousin, Malcolm’s sister, tying on an apron. Katie had a familiar gleam in her eye as she stared back at her. “Malcolm’s been keeping tabs on you for as long as I can remember.”
“Can’t you just say hello, Katie?” Malcolm asked, flicking his towel at his sister.
The move caused him to release the tray of drinks he’d been holding hostage. “I’ll get these over to table five,” Celia said, lifting the tray.
“You do that,” Katie said, leaning on the bar. “Did that hound dog scare off another one of your waitresses?”
Celia tuned the siblings out as she focused on her tables again. Malcolm had been right about the tavern slowing down. Her multiple tables dwindled until she was finally cleaning up after the last one. The tavern was never completely silent, not with the music overhead. Malcolm rotated between radio stations throughout the week, so at least it wasn’t always the same songs.
“Here, I can finish this one,” Katie offered, putting her own rag down to block Celia’s.
Celia didn’t straighten, though her hand stopped moving to avoid running into the other woman’s. “I’m almost done.”
Katie shrugged before she retreated. “Suit yourself. But the next table is mine.” She nodded over to the counter. “Food is up.”
“Food?” Celia glanced around, still finding no customers. “I didn’t put any orders in.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “For you, of course. You’re a skeleton, like usual. Go eat, or Malcolm will worry.” She moved away, checking the salt shakers on the other tables to collect the ones needing a refill.
Celia finished wiping down her last table, putting things back to the way they should look. When she crossed to the bar, a sandwich and fries were waiting, with a soda perched next to them. She sighed as she took the stool in front of the food, glancing at her cousin, who pretended to wipe down the other end of the bar. “Make sure you dock me for it.”
Malcolm straightened to scowl at her. “Stop being stubborn. I’ve told you all week, food is a perk of working here.”
Someone grabbed one of her fries, and she turned to watch Blake pop it into his mouth. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I could eat something.”
Malcolm glared at his friend. “Stop running off all of my waitresses, and maybe I’ll consider it.”
