Unfortunately, he really does right now.
“Me, sir?”
“Yes. Do you know how long it takes to break down the tables in this room after a meal?”
“I’m new, sir, but I can get someone who knows.”
“Too long,” Theo says. “Just tell the man it takes too long.”
The baby in his tattooed arms makes an adorable little cooing sound, like she has an opinion on table break down.
“I’m not in the business of moving tables, but I could do this myself in under an hour, which means a crew can undoubtedly clear it in fifteen minutes or less,” Jonas says. “Does that sound about right to you?”
Goddammit, he’s talking to me again. “I’m sure you’re right, sir.”
“No, he’s not right,” Theo says. “If we needed to flood this room to make it unusable, like with water, or maybe even soup or something, how long wouldthattake?”
I yank the plug out of the wall, still not looking straight at either of them. “I’m afraid that’s not my area of expertise, sir.”
“You’re not flooding the dining room,” Jonas says to him.
“Watch me,” he replies.
“We’d have to shut down.”
“Worth it.”
“Again, you’re the one who invited them?—”
“You sound like my high school principal.”
I need to text Cyril and have him get me out of here, but I can’t stand in front of my bosses and pull out my cell phone if I want to keep my job.
Were I in their shoes and a housekeeper wasn’t answering my questions and instead pulled out her phone—yeah, I know how that would end.
And while I don’t need this job, it’s such a convenient cover story, and I’d have no excuse for doing something stupid enough to get me fired on my third day.
“Miss, do you have a moment? I’d like to time something,” Jonas says to me. “I’m sorry. I missed your name.”
I glance up at him and instantly regret it, because the smiling, brown-haired, warm-eyed, friendly Jonas Rutherford goes fromall is well and I’m enjoying my brother-in-law’s discomfortto that wrinkle-nosed, paused,do I know you from somewhere?expression.
Daammmmmiiiiittttttt.
I drop my gaze to the floor again. “Would you like me to operate the stopwatch or do the thing that needs timed, sir?”
“He doesn’t need any help,” Theo says. “Quit making the staff nervous, asshole. And read her name tag. Margie? Margie. You can go. Don’t mind him.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jonas says, but he’s not as jovial as he was a minute ago.
“Dude,” Theo mutters.
“What?”
“How many times do you have to make the staff nervous before you remember you’re a fucking movie star?”
“Maybe she’s an old fan of yours from your own…glory days.”
“Which we also don’t talk about,” Theo mutters.
