The banker said, “Do you mind if we join you?”
“I’d like that. Thanks, Mason.”
Reassured Peter would be okay, Tom returned to his own table.
“Okay, so you want the usual and… Elizabeth?” Silva said. She brought out a pad and pen. She didn’t need to use them, but it was part of her presentation.
“Roast beef sandwich sound good?” Tom asked Elizabeth, surprised she hadn’t already placed an order. Then again, she’d been watching him, studying him. He hoped she liked what she saw.
“Sure,” Elizabeth said.
“And to drink?” he asked.
Elizabeth gave a little snort. “Make it milk.”
Silva glanced at her wrist. “Break?”
“Sprain. But I figure that milk helps to keep the bones strong if I fall down mountains in the future.”
Silva smiled at her. “I’m Silva, by the way. I’m the proud owner of the Victorian Tea Shop.”
Sam scowled as he watched them, then turned to dry more glasses.
“I take it Sam’s not happy about this,” Tom said. Silva had waitressed at the tavern forever, even though with their longevity, she was only twenty-eight in human years.
“Nope,” Silva said. “It’s time I had a place of my own. I’ll waitress over there and I’ll be the owner. Which means I can decorate it to my heart’s content. If you hang around long enough,” she said to Elizabeth, “you can come to the grand opening.”
“Thanks. Maybe I can come back some other time.”
Silva glanced at Tom as if he was supposed to keep Elizabeth here a while longer, if nothing else, to ensure that Elizabeth came to her grand opening.
Elizabeth cleared her throat uncomfortably and asked Silva, “Do you ski?”
Silva laughed and said, “I’ve only been up to the ski resort one time. I went to the ski lodge and had a hot toddy.” She shrugged. “If wolves were meant to ski, they wouldn’t have nonslip paw pads.” She paused before she left to place their orders. “You’re staying overnight, at least, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I am.”
Silva gave her a big smile. “You’ve got to meet Darien’s mate, Lelandi. She’d love to visit with you.”
“I think we’ll see her tonight.”
Silva glanced at Tom. “Good. Sounds real good. I’ll get your food.” She headed for the bar.
Sam shoved a tray on the counter, two sandwiches already on the plates, along with a beer and one glass of milk.
“Why thank you, Sam. That was quick.”
He grunted at her.
Silva whipped around and brought the tray to Tom and Elizabeth’s table. “He’s mad at me,” she whispered to them, “because I’m leaving him to work my own place and he has to find a new waitress. I’ve got new horizons.”
“Sometimes we have to spread our wings,” Elizabeth agreed. “Sometimes it’s time to take a chance and make some big changes in our lives.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Tom said.
Elizabeth looked uncomfortable, then shook her head. “Silva sounds like she’s in a place where she needs to make a change.”
“What do you do for a living?” Silva asked.
Tom frowned a little at Silva, wanting her to wait on the other tables and leave him alone with Elizabeth.
Mason came to Tom’s rescue. “Hey, Silva, another round of drinks and sandwiches over here?”
“How will you manage our money at the bank if you’re over here eating all afternoon?” Silva asked cheerfully, then took off to serve the drinks.
Peter rose from the table. “Nothing more for me. Got to get back to work.” He waved in Tom and Elizabeth’s direction and headed out of the tavern.
Elizabeth’s phone jingled.
“Excuse me,” she said to Tom and got up to answer it.
Tom frowned. Her call should be private, but he couldn’t help wanting to know who called her and why. A boyfriend? Tom hoped not. She’d looked more worried than happy to hear from the caller, whoever it was.
Chapter 8
Tom sipped his drink and kept his eye on Elizabeth, who had her ear pressed to the cell phone. As crowded and noisy as the tavern had gotten, Tom couldn’t overhear the caller’s part of the conversation, no matter how much he strained to hear any of it.
“I understand. We’ll have to meet later,” Elizabeth said.
Tom watched the emotions play across her face as she stared at the table, eyes downcast, brow furrowed.
“I’ll…” She looked up to see Tom observing her. “If you get in later, I’ll be at Hastings Bed and Breakfast. If you can’t make it, I’ll call you back, and we’ll work something out.” Pause. “Okay. Bye.” She slipped the phone into her bag. “Sorry. Just a call I had to take.”
“I completely understand. You didn’t tell him you were invited to dinner tonight.” Tom added the “him” in there, suspecting the caller had to be a he—and Tom damn well wanted to know who he was.
“I doubt he’ll come. Roads are bad.”
So he was close by. Within driving distance.
“I’m… sorry. I hadn’t taken into account that you might have had other plans while you stayed here.” He wasn’t sorry. More disappointed, but he should have realized someone would be interested in the woman.
“Don’t worry about it.”
But he did worry about it. And then he thought it odd. She hadn’t mentioned to the caller that she’d been injured. Maybe not wanting to concern the man, since he couldn’t do anything about it? Or maybe she was worried he’d be angry with the pack for allowing her to be injured, and she didn’t want to stir up trouble.
“If he arrives anyway, he could have dinner with Darien and Lelandi tonight,” Tom offered, as much as he hated to.
“No,” she said.
Bluntly. No explanation. That made him even more curious.
“He’s driving?”
This time her gaze locked onto Tom’s.
He fought to keep from smiling as he drank the rest of his beer and sat back in his chair. “Was he going to ski with you?”
She smiled. “You’re cute, you know? No, I’m not seeing him, as in he’s my favorite squeeze. Yes, he’s a wolf. Yes, he’s driving. No, he’s not skiing with me.”