“Maybe she’ll run out of money?” I ask hopefully.
Rowan laughs darkly. “Not likely.”
“We’ll never get rid of her.”
“She’ll give up eventually,” he says, but even he sounds unsure.
My phone rings, ending the conversation. I feel Rowan watching as I decline the call, and I tell him, “Another unknown number. Probably Russell again.”
Rowan doesn’t like it, but if I voice too much displeasure, I know he’ll do something illegal.
Before he can suggest it, I lift the takeout bag. “Are you hungry?”
He doesn’t look like he wants to change the subject, but he finally nods toward the stairs. “Why don’t you and Nadine eat first? I’ll watch the shop.”
“That reminds me. I ran into Mr. Eastwilden at the cafe. I think I made him mad.”
“How?”
“I refused to sell him the tea shop again.”
“That man is as persistent as Keira,” Rowan says heavily. “It’s unfortunate he set his sights on your shop.”
“I would prefer it if you’d said something like, ‘Don’t worry about him, Kit. It’ll be okay.’”
“Don’t worry about him, Kit.” He smiles, his eyes laughing. “It’ll be okay.”
“Better, thank you.”
And it will be okay. I know it. Sometimes life just gets worse before it can get better.
“Rowan says we should eat first,” I say to Nadine when we join her at the counter. “Let’s head upstairs.”
Rowan steps up to help the next customer, and Nadine follows me into the back.
“Guess what,” she says as we climb the stairs.
“What?”
“Hudson stopped by just before you got back. He told me I could meet his horses after work.”
Like all autumn pixies, Nadine shares a deep connection with animals. She cannot speak with them directly but has a natural way with them.
It doesn’t surprise me that she asked to visit the horses in the livery stable.
“We’ll never see you once you make all those horse friends. I’ll have to bring you meals so you don’t starve.”
“At least you’ll think of me,” she laughs, shuffling through the takeout bag when I set it on the desk. “By the way, do you know all of Hudson’s drivers?”
“I’ve only met a few. He employs several.”
“What about the pixie?” she asks casually. “Blond hair. Nice smile. Usually wears a brown newsboy cap. I’m pretty sure he’s an autumn.”
“I’ve seen him, but I haven’t met him.” I give her a suspicious look. “Why?”
She smiles to herself. “No reason. I just wondered if he might be at the stable tonight.”
“Visit the horses, my foot,” I laugh. “You have ulterior motives.”
