Page 24 of The Matchmaker Club
5
Moving In
The sound of a chainsaw buzzed through my head as I poured my morning coffee. I looked out the window to see Lainey working on a tree stump.
“Bill brought her over a few stumps to work on.” My grandmother sipped her coffee and turned the page of herWeekly World News.
I didn’t comment as I scooped out a teaspoon of sugar.
My grandmother set down her paper. “Still giving me the silent treatment?”
Yup.
I tossed the spoon into the sink.
She picked up her paper. “I’m not giving them the letters.”
Huh?
I turned to look at her. “You’re not?”
She took another sip of her coffee, eyes still on her paper. “Nope.”
I sat down at the table. “But you already agreed.”
She looked up at me. “I agreed to one month. Plenty of time for them to change their mind.”
“That’s it? That’s your plan?” I stood up, shaking my head. “You may have convinced James to let us stay here, but there is no way you’ll be able to charm William. He doesn’t have one empathetic bone in his body when it comes to us.”
She went back to her paper. “I’m not going to convince anyone of anything.Youare.”
“Me?” I huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “You really think William would listen to me?”
“No, but Lucas will.”
“You’re joking, right?”
She looked me straight in the eye. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
My chest tightened in anger. “I will never charm that jerk, not even for a cool million.”
“Not even for our home?”
“No.”
She picked up her paper and shrugged. “Well, then it looks like the deal is back on.” She sipped her coffee. “Best start searching for a new home for us on that computer of yours.”
Before I had the chance to walk out of the kitchen, she added one more tidbit to get under my skin, and it worked. “And fix up the guest bedroom. Lucas will be arriving this afternoon.”
“He can fix it up himself,” I said before marching up the stairs to get ready for work.
* * *
The lunch rush was busier than usual, but Thelma and I worked well together and knew how to prioritize to get everyone set up and out before their lunch breaks were over. Mack, the owner, was helping Ben with the cooking. Most of the customers were the guys who worked at the lumber mill down the road and called us ahead of time with their orders so we could get a head start.
Mack set two plates down under the heat lamp. “Numbers eleven and twelve are up.”
“I got ’em,” I called out. “Thelma, could you refill the drinks on table five.”
