Page 47 of Passion at the Lake

“Working on my computer,” I corrected.

Boone didn’t see the scowl Marge sent his way.

“Would you like anything on your pancakes?” she asked. “I’ve got bananas and strawberries.”

“Plain is just fine for me,” I answered.

She offered the plate. “Have a seat then.” She nodded in Boone’s direction.

Being that close to him didn’t appeal to me. “I think I’ll just take these back to the cottage. I need to feed the dogs anyway.”

Marge shook her head. “It’s customary for us to eat together. Boone promised to be nice this morning, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “What you see is what you get. I’m always nice.”

Marge’s suggestion didn’t seem like one I should ignore, so I took the chair across from Boone.

Marge leaned against the back of another chair before checking her watch. “Oh darn it all, I forgot. I’m supposed to call your mother,” she said to Boone. “So I’ll leave you two to enjoy your breakfast.”

After she left, I started the conversation. “I meant to say thank you for fixing the Wi-Fi.”

He didn’t look up. “Sure.” He forked more pancake into his mouth.

After another minute of silent chewing, I asked, “Do you think she really has a phone call?”

Once again he didn’t look up. “Nope. Not at this time of day.”

I could only guess that he was still pissed about the lunch I had planned. I hadn’t planned it, though. I’d been asked to join. “If you don’t want me to go to lunch with your sister, I’ll cancel.”

He finished chewing before he responded. “Go ahead. I don’t care one way or the other.”

“You were upset last night.”

He sucked in a breath before meeting my eyes. “I only said to ask me directly if you want something instead of going around me to my sister.”

It was unfair the way he accused me of this again, but I decided against arguing the point because I had a bigger issue to face. “I understand your concern, and it won’t happen again.”

He raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised that I agreed with him for once. “Good.”

I brought another bite of pancake to my mouth and asked, “When is payday?” Too much money could burn a hole in your pocket, but I had the opposite problem. Too little money was burning a hole in my gut from worry.

“It was yesterday, and we pay every two weeks.”

Two weeks? The few bills in my wallet weren’t going to last that long. “I need an advance then.” I stated the fact calmly—succinct and to the point. I expected a calm, rational response in return.

Instead, I got a shake of the head. “No. You’ll get paid in two weeks, minus a day, just like everyone else.”

Why not? I hadn’t ever experienced it, but employers offered advances all the time, from what I’d heard.

“But I need…” I choked out before I’d figured out what else to say. Maybe I should have added apleaseto my request, or said I’dlikean advance instead of Ineededthe advance.

“What?” he challenged. “You need to buy a monogrammed purse to go with your fancy luggage? Call up your rich boyfriend for that. I’m running a business.”

A monogrammed purse? Where had that come from? I needed money for food, gas, essentials. I blinked back the tears that threatened. I refused to let him see me cry. He’d taken pleasure in hurting me before, and I wouldn’t give him that leverage again.

Maybe I should’ve explained the situation, but I refused to grovel in front of him, or give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how dire my situation was.

Also, I refused to discuss Kevin with him. He didn’t need to know what Kevin was like or what had happened between us. He didn’t deserve to know.

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