"Sure. That would be great." I was almost faint from hunger, and the heat of my bath had drained me. I looked up with wide eyes as a matronly woman in an apron made her unhurried way out of the small kitchen tucked in at the back of the room. It was partially open to the seating arrangement, but I hadn't noticed her until now.
Giving me a smile that encompassed all her face, the woman set a mug of that heavenly scented coffee in front of me before topping off Trent's smaller teacup with an amber brew. I thought I could smell gardenias, but I wasn't sure. "Bless you," I said as I wrapped my hands around it and breathed in the steam.
"You're welcome," she said with the professional warmth of a good waitress. Smiling, she turned to Trent. "What will it be tonight, Mr. Kalamack? It's almost too late for a proper dinner."
As I blew on the surface of my coffee, my thoughts went to the different schedules of witches and elves, thinking it interesting that one of our species was awake at all times and that dinner happened about the same time for both of us.
"Oh, let's make it light," Trent said, clearly trying to ease the mood. "I have about three pounds of Ohio River sitting in me somewhere. How about a breakfast instead? The usual, Maggie."
The woman nodded, the white hair clipped close to her head not moving at all. "And how about you, dear?" she asked me.
I glanced between Trent and the woman. "What's the usual?"
"Four eggs over easy and three slices of rye toast done on one side."
I felt myself blanch. "That's eating light?" I said before I could stop my mouth.
Trent arranged his jammies' collar, peeking from behind his robe. "High metabolism."
My thoughts went back to how he and Ceri never seemed to get cold. The temperature of the river, too, hadn't affected him. "Um," I said as I realized she was still waiting. "The toast sounds good, but I'll pass on the eggs."
Eyebrows high, Trent took a sip of his tea, eyeing me over the rim. "That's right," he said, his voice unaccusing. "You don't tolerate them well. Maggie, let's go with waffles."
Shocked, I leaned back in my chair. "How did you…"
Trent shrugged, looking good in his bathrobe and bare feet. He had nice feet. "You don't think I know your medical history?"
My wonder died as I recalled Faris dead on his office floor. What in hell was I doing here eating dinner with him? "Waffles would be great."
"Unless you'd like something more traditional for dinner. Chinese doesn't take long. Would you rather have that? Maggie makes fabulous wontons."
I shook my head. "Waffles sound good."
Maggie smiled, turning to putter back into the kitchen. "Won't be but a moment."
I put my napkin in my lap, wondering how much of this let's-be-nice-to-Rachel scene was because Ellasbeth was in the next room listening and Trent wanted to hurt her for accusing him of cheating. Deciding I didn't care, I put my elbows on the table and took a sip of the best coffee I'd ever tasted. Eyes closing in the rising steam, I moaned in delight. "Oh God, Trent," I breathed. "This is good."
The sudden thump of heels on carpet pulled my eyes open. It was back.
I straightened in my chair as Ellasbeth came in, her dress coat open to show a starched white shirt and a peach-colored scarf. My gaze went to her ring finger and I blanched. You could run a city on the sparkle that thing put out.
Ellasbeth sat beside me, a shade too close for my liking. "Maggie?" she said lightly. "I'll have tea and biscuits, please. I ate while out."
"Yes, ma'am," Maggie said as she leaned through the open archway. Her tone lacked utterly in any warmth. Clearly Maggie didn't like Ellasbeth, either.
Ellasbeth fixed a smile to her face, setting her long, fragile-looking fingers on the table to best show off her engagement ring. Bitch. "Seems we got off the horse on the wrong side, Ms. Morgan," she said cheerfully. "Have you and Trenton known each other long?"
I didn't like Ellasbeth. I think I'd be pretty upset myself if I came home and found a girl in Nick's bathtub, but after seeing her shouting at Trent, I couldn't find any sympathy for her. Accusing someone of cheating is harsh. My smile faltered as I realized I had almost done the same thing to Nick. I had accused him of dumping me, asking if there was someone else. There was a difference, but not much. Shit. I had to apologize. That he hadn't told me where he'd been going the last three months while avoiding me didn't seem like enough reason anymore. At least I hadn't called him any names. Jerking myself from my thoughts, I smiled at Ellasbeth.
"Oh, Trent and I go back a long way," I said lightly, twirling a curl of my hair about my finger and remembering its new shortness. "We met at camp as children. Sort of romantic when you think about it." I smiled at Trent's suddenly blank look.
"Really?" She turned to Trent, the hint of a tiger growling in her voice's soft cadence.
Sitting up, I tucked my legs under me to sit cross-legged, running my finger across the rim of the mug suggestively. "He was such a cub when he was younger, full of fire and spirit. I had to fight him off, the dear boy. That's where he got that scar on his lower arm."
I looked at Trent. "I can't believe you haven't told Ellasbeth! Trent, you aren't still embarrassed about that, are you?"
Ellasbeth's eye twitched, but her smile never faltered. Maggie set a delicate looking cup full of an amber liquid by her elbow and quietly walked away. Her carefully shaped eyebrows high, Ellasbeth took in Trent's silent posture and his lack of denial. Her fingertips made one rolling cadence against the table in agitation. "I see," she said, then stood. "Trenton, I do believe I will catch a flight out tonight after all."
Trent met her gaze. He looked tired and a bit relieved. "If that is what you want, love."
She leaned close to him, her eyes on me. "It's to give you the chance to settle your affairs—sweetness," she said, her lips shifting the air about his ear. Still watching me, she lightly kissed his cheek. There was no feeling in her eyes beyond a vindictive glint. "Call me tomorrow."
Not a flicker of emotion crossed Trent. Nothing. And its very absence chilled me. "I'll count the hours," he said, his voice giving no clue either. Both of their eyes were on me as his hand rose to touch her cheek, but he didn't kiss her back. "Should Maggie pack up your tea?"
"No." Still watching me, she straightened, her hand lingering possessively on his shoulder. The picture they made was both beautiful and strong. And united. I remembered the reflection of Trent and me at Saladan's boat. Here was the bond that had been lacking between us. It wasn't love, though. It wasmoreof…Mybrowfurrowed…. abusiness merger?
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel," Ellasbeth said, pulling my thoughts back to the present. "And thank you for accompanying my fiancé tonight. Your services are undoubtedly well-practiced and appreciated. It's a shame he won't be calling upon them again."
I leaned across the table to shake her offered hand with a neutral pressure. I think she had just called me a whore—again. I suddenly didn't know what was going on. Did he like her, or didn't he? "Have a nice flight out," I said.
"I will. Thank you." Her hand slipped from mine and she drew a step back. "Walk me to the car?" she asked Trent, her voice smooth and satisfied.
I'm not dressed, love," he said softly, still touching her. "Jonathan can take your bags."
A flicker of annoyance crossed her, and I flashed her a catty smile. Turning, she walked out to the hallway overlooking the great room. "Jonathan?" she called, her heels clacking.
My God. The two played mind games with each other as if it was an Olympic sport.