15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen

Fenella

I work for four hours .

It's not that I've never worked for that long before—photoshoots can go for eight hours, and once, shooting a video, I was there for fourteen hours.

This was four hours of dealing with people—customers—and doing things for them and being nice. I can be nice with the best of them, but I learned that even in a place like Laandia, there are quite a few people who don't deserve my niceness.

Silas doesn't have that problem. He just keeps smiling, keeps asking everyone how their day is, any big plans, and what's going in with their kids/grandkids/dogs.

He knows a little about every single person who comes in.

It might be a small-town thing or it might be a Silas thing. Leodie is great. but she doesn't interact half as much as Silas does.

I keep finding new things I like about Silas. First, it was his coffee, then it was his cuteness. Now he's just… nice .

It's not a word I like to use, but it fits Silas perfectly.

It fits him like those jeans fit him. That's one more item on the list of things I like about him.

He tells me to leave with enough time to go to the bank before it closes, and I walk out of the shop with tired and aching feet and a promise to come back tomorrow after I take Edie shopping.

It takes a few minutes and a phone call to my business manager to get access to the money for Coy. I don't want to know why he wants cash for the car rather than a more convenient electronic transfer, but whatever works.

I take the money directly to his house so the car can finally be mine.

"Coy's out on the boat," Laura tells me when she greets me at the door. "He'll be gone until late tonight."

"But I told him I'd drop off the money for the car."

"He's not fussed, figures you're good for it," she chuckles. "Plus, he's so over the moon at the car going to a good home. I hope you like it, but I hate the thing. I'd rather have had a new countertop than him spend the money on something like that. Men and their mid-life crisis." She shakes her head. "Now, c'mon in with you. I've something for your supper."

"I don't…" I have no choice but to follow the older woman into the house. Like yesterday, the kitchen is full of amazing smells, with a pot bubbling on the stove.

"Lobster chowder." Laura gives the pot a stir before turning it down. "I'll put it in a thermos for you. I know Lottie Merman at the castle kitchen, and she can't make a chowder to save her life. Not like mine."

"You don't have to feed me," I protest, feeling unsettled at how Laura has pulled me into the warmth of her home, and how it sets off a glow inside me.

Laura gives me a sharp glance. "Someone better start." I laugh; in all my years of modelling, no one has ever suggested I need more food for my frame. "What does your mother think of this?"

"About me? Not much, if she can help it," I say. "We're not close."

"Shame, bright girl like you. Buys her own car. Doesn't wait for a man to get it for her." Laura frowns as she ladles soup into a giant thermos. "What does your mother do?"

"She lunches with her friends. And she likes martinis. Other than that—" I lift a shoulder. I've had four hours in Coffee for the Sole, answering all types of questions, so Laura asking about my mother shouldn't surprise me. "I honestly have no idea. We're really not close. She prefers my brother. Both of them."

"Pity. I wasn't blessed with a daughter, but I would have loved a girl. Better than those lazy layabouts for sons I've got. And the daughters-in-law they give me." She raises her eyes to the ceiling. "A McKibbon and a Crow. What am I supposed to do with that?"

I struggle to follow along because Laura's accent is strong, like a mix of Irish, Scottish and Canadian, and because I have no idea who she's talking about. My guess is that her sons married women from not-great families in town, but I don't feel I should ask for details.

"McKibbon." I do recognize that name. "He's the police?"

Laura rolls her eyes. "Thinks he's better'en the rest of us because he's friendly with the prince. If you ask me, and you should, Kate is the only good one of that lot. Now, she's done something with her life."

"I think I met her. Kate works for the royal family?"

"Yes. Good girl."

I'm not sure if Laura means me or Kate, but I take the compliment for myself.

"Now, here." Laura screws on the top of the thermos. "This is good chowder. You eat it all." She pushes it at me.

"Ah… thank you?" The silver container is warm to the touch and my mouth is already watering just from the smell alone. "I can bring this back tomorrow."

"Keep it, Coy's got enough. He fills them up, takes them on the boat. Or bring it back if you want me to fill it up again."

"I think I'll bring it back," I say, giving her a hesitant smile.

Laura's answering smile is warm and genuine. "You do that."

Business completed, I take my gift of lobster chowder out to the car and wonder what I should do to keep myself busy. Gunnar told me about his meeting tonight, and I can tell Stella's not entirely comfortable with me yet. I could see what Sophie was doing or—

What time does the coffee shop close?

It closes at the exact time I pull up in front of it. I honk when I see Silas flipping the old-fashioned Open sign in the window over to Closed, and he comes out.

"You're back." Silas leans against the open window, his smile also warm and genuine. It adds to the glow that seems to be burning bright inside me.

"And you haven't left."

"Duty calls. As you can see, I'm closing up for the night. What are you up to?"

"It seems to me that there might be a common misunderstanding that my car is too much car for me," I tell.

"That was just Jonathan—"

"I can prove myself and give you a ride," I interrupt. "Somewhere. Just so you can vouch for me being a capable driver."

"Fenella, you don't need anyone to vouch for you."

"But I'd like to go for a drive," I say, suddenly unsure. Me, who has held conversations with A-listers everywhere, who once approached Leo DiCaprio to ask him for dinner, and went up to Tom Holland at some awards show and invited him for a drink. This was before Zendaya, of course.

So why is the Fenella who did all that having trouble asking Silas to go for a drive with her?

"With you," I finish in a rush. "If you're not busy. Or have plans. Or a date."

Silas's smile slowly creeps across his face like the sun rising in the morning. "You heard Wyatt—I don't date. And my plans involve staying awake to get another glimpse at Neptune tonight."

"I can help with that." I grab the thermos from the passenger seat. "I have soup."

"Soup. Well, then." He straightens up and gives a tap. "I'll get us a couple of coffees and lock up. Be right out."

"I'll be here," I tell him, the warm glow shooting off fireworks inside me now.