I’m not sure which one is more ominous.
“Apologies for abandoning you,” he says before the silence can get awkward. “At the carnival. My security team didn’t like the crowd we were attracting. I did offer to pay restitution for the broken glass.”
I shift in the seat to pull my legs closer to my body, grateful that he’s not giving me an inquisition over my financial situation and life goals. “It was faulty equipment. Not your job to pay for that.”
“The world has given me more than I deserve. I enjoy helping those who are in the same kind of predicaments that I once was.”
“You used to run a ping-pong toss booth that some jerk destroyed with a mallet head?”
He smiles brighter. “Goodness me, no. But I am familiar with being overworked and underpaid. So much so that I still use a dusty old computer when I’m working so that I remember normal people often have to wait a full minute for a sentence to appear on their screen and that their printers randomly spit out stacks of papers that they don’t recall ordering it to print. It keeps me humble. Tell me—did all of the goldfish survive?”
See? He’s either hilarious and awesome, or he’s plotting my death. “They did.”
“That’s a relief.”
“But you shouldn’t replace the bowls. Everyone in town hates that game. You’re a hero to everyone but those traumatized goldfish right now.”
“That’s definitely a conundrum then.”
We stare at each other while I fiddle with one of the buttons on my blouse.
Oh god.
This probably looks like I’m offering to take it off for him.
And that has me shooting to my feet. “Would you like something to drink?”
He grimaces.
“Nonalcoholic,” I amend. “Daph keeps a pitcher of raspberry tea in the fridge at all times during summer. If you like that kind of thing.”
And the smile is back. “Sounds delicious. Thank you.”
He trails me into the kitchen, and my heart starts doing that annoying thing again.
It’s bouncing in anticipation.
Eager to hang out with Simon.
In private.
No one listening in.
Just the two of us.
I haven’t had a drop of alcohol today, but I still feel a fizzing in my veins like I’ve been guzzling champagne.
“Did the boys have fun today?” I ask him.
“Alas, despite winning four cakes, they failed in their endeavor to also be banned from musical chairs. They’re currently in a sugar-induced stupor for having eaten their feelings with two of the cakes they did win.”
That makes me smile too. “They’re a handful.”
He leans against the sink, watching me as I pour two glasses of tea. “They’ve had their worlds turned inside out.”
“I hear moving is hard on kids.” I’ve also heard his kids are here in Athena’s Rest basically permanently since Lana’s moving closer to care for her mom. Starting school here in the fall, with plans to stay through high school no matter what happens with her mom, since stability is important.
“Also rather difficult to suddenly be in the spotlight at school because of your father’s job. And then difficult to make new friends when you’re unsure who likes you for you… I suspect you can relate.”
