Chapter Sixteen
Plum pored over the spreadsheets, scratching out calculations on a legal pad on her desk. She was tired and frustrated and not really sure how she would make this work. She wanted to help out Dustin’s cousin, she really did, but there were other things she could use that money for.
Also, she’d maybe had too much caffeine and carbs today and not enough real food. The lunch crowd had cleaned them out of salads and sandwich meat and quiche and she often grabbed leftovers for dinner.
Which would explain the remains of a cinnamon roll on her plate, as well as the pumpkin loaf slice sitting like a brick in her stomach. She should maybe consume something that wasn’t half sugar but she knew her fridge was just as empty—she’d been putting off going to the grocery store and now she was paying for it.
She had just dropped her head on her desk when her cell rang. When she looked up, Gideon’s name flashed across her screen and her insides crackled.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I was calling to see how your day was. There was a line out your door when I went by at lunchtime so I figured you’ve been busy.”
“Um, yeah. Good for business, but I’m pretty wiped.”
“I hope you’re having a good dinner or soaking in your bathtub, taking a break.”
She bit her lip, knowing he wouldn’t like the truth. It was tempting to lie but she didn’t want to lie to Gideon, even when she wasn’t in middle space. Sassing was one thing, and even mis-stating the truth in hopes of getting “punished” was another, but to outright lie? Would make her stomach feel ickier than it already did.
“No, I’m in my office trying to figure out if I can swing hiring a busboy and eating leftover pastries.”
There was a momentary pause during which she imagined his dark brows furrowing, his full mouth tightening into a line. And then his voice was back, not the smooth solicitous tone he’d had when she answered, but sharper, more commanding.
“Come here. I’m feeding you.”
It was mortifying he’d demanded her presence because she didn’t always eat like an adult. She supposed she could’ve refused since this wasn’t part of a scene.
On the other hand, it probably wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to eat something that had some nutritional value. She’d been feeling run down and she knew eating badly was part of it. So why not let Gideon make her dinner?
“Fine.”
She thought she heard a small exhale and she wanted to roll her eyes even as it warmed her heart. He cared about her.
“Thank you. Dinner will be ready in an hour. Don’t be late.”
* * *
Half an hour later, Gideon opened the door to the rectory, his wavy hair slightly mussed and an apron covering most of a grey henley and some dark jeans. He wasn’t wearing any shoes and it was almost comical to see him looking so very un-priestlike.
“You’re early,” he remarked, ushering her inside and then holding out a hand for her cloak.
“Yeah,” Plum shrugged. “Sorry if I’m intruding, I—”
“You’re not. Just come to the kitchen so I can keep an eye on the salmon.”
She followed him into the small kitchen and plopped down into the chair he gestured to. Like Gideon, she’d changed since earlier in the day into a more casual outfit of a simple day dress and some kitten heels that she’d slid off near the front door.
Gideon lifted up a corner of the fillet of salmon and, apparently satisfied, turned toward the counter and started slicing cherry tomatoes in half and depositing them in a bowl.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of extra time with you?” he asked.
“Numbers were starting to dance in front of my eyes and I thought the walk over here might clear my head a little.”
“And did it?”
“Maybe?” she said, pulling the legal pad out of her tote and skimming over her scribbles.
“You said you were trying to figure out if you could hire a busboy. You need the help?”