Chapter 41

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When we woke the next morning, sluggish and recovering from the sugar high, we slowly made our way down to the dining room for breakfast. The lady we met said Mrs. Renaldi didn't work weekends unless there was a special event. Though I was disappointed, the meal wasn't a poor substitute.

"Do you want to go to a movie or something?" I placed my plate on the dining room table and pulled out the chair next to Maible. We hadn't spoken since waking unless grunts and groans about sugar and the disbelief we shared with being hungry again counted.

She shrugged and chewed on her crispy bacon. Two days wasn't a long time to have known someone, but from what I knew, she wasn't a quiet kind of girl. Smart and funny, sure, but quiet? Not a chance. She didn't even look up from her plate to acknowledge I was there.

"Maybe we could go shopping?" I perked up. I wasn't a shopper, but I hadn't been in a long time.

"I don't want to go shopping," she mumbled without looking up.

I slumped. "Look, about last night—"

"Thanks for inviting me over," she said.

"That's not... Maible, that that isn't what I mean," I said. "I'm sorry if I seemed abrupt or rude or whatever last night. My automatic response to uncomfortable is to clam up."

She looked up. "You think I'm mad at you? I'm not." She shoveled another forkful of food into her mouth and then pushed her plate away. "I just need some freaking coffee."

"Oh, dear, coffee is in the carafe over there," the substitute cook said and pointed to the side table sporting a silver tray complete with coffee, sugar, and cream. A handful of unused coffee mugs were laid out face-down beside the tray, shining with temptation.

"But I thought Miss Rose had banned it?" I let my eyes rest on the lady as Maible looked over her shoulder at the door leading into the hall as though expecting someone to show up and scold us.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." The lady smiled. "She doesn't work weekends."

"Where do you keep it during the week?"

The lady tsked and brought the tray to the table in front of us, sitting to pour three steaming cups frothing with goodness. Maible and I pounced, almost tipping a mug over as we reached for the same one. I grimaced as a splash hit my thumb and reached for the farthest one instead.

"I bring it on the weekends. I tried hiding it, but the lady is relentless, like a bloodhound."

"Well, it's official. You are now my second favorite person in this house, and I don't even know your name yet." I moaned with pleasure as my first sip burst onto my tongue, hot and satisfying.

"How rude of me." She stood, wiped her hands on her flower apron, and extended her hand. "I'm Mrs. Danver. You may call me Cynthia—Cyd for short."

"It's nice to meet you, Cyd." I shook her hand before clasping my cup again, protective. "Does Devland know we're breaking the rules?"

"I do now," he said from the door leading into the dining room from the hall. He narrowed his eyes at each of us and then at the carafe as though it was foreign, unwelcome and forbidden.

I put the rim of my mug to my lips, prepared to guzzle it if he decided to take it away.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dwyer—" Maible began before Cyd waved her apology away.

"Don't you apologize," she scolded, shaking her finger at Devland. "This little cretin has been sneaking coffee in behind Miss Rose's back since before you were born. Shameless, he is."

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