Well Met 4 - Well Traveled by Jen Deluca

Author:Jen Deluca [Deluca, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Modern, Fiction
ISBN: 9780593200469
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2000-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

But when I eventually brought up the idea of Dex returning to the hotel, he waved it off.

“Eh. I think Freddy beat me to it.” His head was turned away from me as he checked for traffic before pulling out of the campsite.

“Freddy?” I was almost startled into a spit-take but managed to swallow my sip of coffee. Caffeine was precious and shouldn’t be wasted. “What do you mean, Freddy?” I asked when I was once again able to speak. “He’s with Patrick.”

Dex shook his head. “Patrick left. I dunno, his contract was short or something.” He shrugged. “That happens sometimes, especially if there’s another Faire at the same time. Not everyone is here for the entire run.”

“But . . .” My mind stuttered, and not just from being on my first cup of coffee. “He had a one-week contract?” What was the point of that?

“Seems like it.” He kept his eyes on the road when I most wanted to peer into them and see if he was fucking with me.

“Even so . . .” I took another sip of coffee. “It’s Frederick’s turn in the motorhome, right? I thought you’d rather be in the hotel.”

“Nah. I’m good where I am. Unless you’d rather have Freddy back?” He cut his eyes over to me then, a quick glance. Assessing.

No. The thought was a knee-jerk reaction. But I swallowed it down with my coffee. “Doesn’t matter to me,” I said as airily as I could. “He used to watch TV with me, though. How do you feel about baking shows?”

A bark of laughter came out of him, widening my own smile. “You’re on your own,” he said. “But I promise I won’t make fun while you’re watching them.”

Good enough. “Deal.” I got to work, sucking down as much coffee as possible as he pulled into the Faire parking lot—well, parking field. It was going to be a long day, and this was the last coffee I was going to see until it was over.

The day was long, but not as exhausting as I’d anticipated—sometimes it worked that way, Sage told me at the end of the day when she handed me my much smaller cut of the day’s tips.

“Middle of the summer,” she said with a shrug. “Middle of the Faire too. Opening and closing weekends can be packed, but these ones in the middle . . . sometimes not as many people come.”

“You’re not worried?” I glanced down at the couple of bills she’d pressed into my hand. If my cut was this small, their total can’t have been all that much.

But she shook her head, unconcerned. “People aren’t in the mood for the unknown sometimes. Just the way it goes. It makes up for the days where we’re so busy we can’t see straight.” She touched my shoulder, somewhere between a pat and a squeeze. “Don’t read too much into it, okay?”

I squinted at her. “Was that some kind of fortune-telling joke?”

She smirked. “Maybe a little.”

With it being such

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