“It’s... possible,” Conall conceded, though he didn’t sound convinced. “But Jenny came from a family of shifters, and most people don’t.”
He put down the brush. “I’m going to try to braid your hair,” he said, with the air of someone going into battle. “It probably won’t be as good as Lydia’s braid.”
Gizelle braced herself.
He was very careful and gentle, and at the end of his ministrations, Gizelle had not one, but two swinging braids. “It was too much hair for one,” he said apologetically. “At least at my skill level.”
“I love it,” Gizelle assured him, letting the braids swirl around as she moved her head. “Will you do it often?”
“As often as you like,” Conall promised. “Every day, if you want.”
Gizelle considered. “I liked having you brush my hair,” she conceded. “But I don’t know if I liked it that much.”
“I understand that it’s easier if you do this every day,” Conall told her encouragingly.
“If you think I should,” Gizelle agreed reluctantly.
Conall tugged on one of her braids playfully. “I think you should do what you want to do,” he said easily.
Gizelle smiled then. “I know what I want to do,” she said earnestly. “Every day...”
Chapter 40
Conall was confused when Travis waved him over to where the staff was sitting near the bar after dinner.
He was more confused when they didn’t appear to have anything to actively discuss with him. He was offered a seat, and then largely ignored as they continued to chat among themselves, though they politely turned towards him to include him in the conversation.
“It’s no real wonder that they’d want me,” Breck was saying confidently. “But I’ve got to question the salary they offered. Before tips, which, no question, I’d be bringing in.”
“We’ve been getting offers that are too good to be true,” Bastian explained for Conall’s benefit. “A resort in California has lifeguard positions for both me and Saina, with room and board and wages to tempt even a dragon.”
“One of those trendy places in New York sent me a letter,” Breck added.
“I got a letter from a construction company back home in Alaska. They offered me a management position,” Travis said.
Tex put a gin and tonic down in front of Conall and another beer for Wrench. Pointedly facing Conall to include him, he said, “I got a letter offering to front me the money for my own bar in Bermuda. An established place with a great bottom line in a sleepy tourist town. Everything I would have wanted before coming here.”
Wrench shrugged. “Nobody’s makin’ me any offers.”
The others all laughed good-naturedly and Conall found himself smiling bemusedly.
“Are you going to take these offers?” he asked.
“Not me,” Travis said. “I have no interest in management. I like a job where I can use my hands, and I’m too spoiled by this island to go back to Alaska.”
“Saina and I talked about it, but we’re pretty happy with our lot here,” Bastian said. “And I’d hate to have to move my hoard again.”
“I don’t think the restaurant in New York is clothing optional,” Breck added with a grin. “So what fun would that be?”
“Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Scarlet in a bind,” Travis added. “Maybe the pay here isn’t the greatest, but I’ve never had a better job.”
Everyone nodded at that.
“I’ve got my own bar here, basically,” Tex agreed. “And I don’t have to worry about balancing the books or paying off a debt.”
“Kind of weird we got these, don’t you think?” Travis mused. “All at once like this?”
“Sounds like a hostile takeover,” Conall suggested.