Edie
Ithink I maylike Fenella Carrington.
I think, maybe someday, the two of us may become friends.
Fenella and Sophie stay at the bar while I do my manager things—serving, settling a dispute over a bill, replacing the toilet paper in the men’s room—and I keep coming back to them because they make me laugh.
Specifically, Fenella makes me laugh.
And instead of intimidating me or making me self-conscious, Fenella does the opposite. With every one of her stories and dropping of names, it shores up something inside of me, like she’s adding her support. Because if Kalle gave up a chance withher, he must really think we could have something special.
And that makes me feel pretty darn good.
Until Mathias arrives.
I’ve been putting off texting him all day. I told Kalle that I would end things, but it seems like overkill when I don’t really think there’s much between us.
At least not on my side.
But if Mathias is here, looking at me with a smile on his handsome face, then maybe I’ve let it go on too long.
Because he’s also looking around the bar. I’m so glad he arrived after Steve-o left because I have a feeling he would not be as impressed as Sophie was by my actions. “My cousin leave you on your own tonight?” he asks, watching me hold a glass under the tap. I can hear the disapproval in his tone even with a smile on his face.
“It’s his night off.”
“I’d never leave you to deal with this lot on your own.” That should be sweet, but I think it’s another shot at Kalle. I didn’t like it when Mathias needled him to his face, and I certainly don’t like it when he does it when Kalle’s not here.
Maybe Kalle’s right about Mathias.
There’s no maybe—I look for the good in people, but I’m ready to stop with Mathias.
“I’m the manager,” I say. “It’s my job to deal with it on my own. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with anything that happens here.”
A few stools down, Sophie grins at me. Both she and Fenella don’t try and hide the fact they are listening to my conversation. Mathias ignores them.
“You wouldn’t have to work if you were married to me.”
I freeze mid-pour and catch myself just in time before the beer overflows. “Then I guess it’s good that I’m not married to you because I like my job.”
“Slinging beer and cleaning up throw-up in the men’s room?” I stare at him in surprise but he keeps going. “I hate the thought of you serving people, especially people like her,” Mathias spits out, jerking his head at Fenella and Sophie.
“What have you got against Fenella?” Fenella is listening; she holds Mathias’s gaze with eyes that are as cold as amethyst and just as unforgiving.
Mathias breaks the staring contest and Fenella smirks, leaning over to whisper something to Sophie. “You don’t know who she is?”
“She’s a friend of Kalle and Gunnar. And of course, I know who she is.”
“Then you know she absconded with my sister’s former fiancé at the Met Gala a few years ago?”
Is that what’s responsible for Mathias’s attitude? Wounded family pride? “I suspect it’s difficult to abscond with someone who doesn’t want to be absconded with,” I say mildly, carefully placing the pints on a tray for Bethie.
“Are you defending her?” he snaps.
Mathias snaps. At me. I can handle attitude and bad temper, and Kalle snaps more than he smiles, at least until lately. But what right does Mathias have to speak to me in that way? Even if he is defending his sister—an admirable quality—does he even know the whole story? And if his sister has another fiancé, then what’s the big deal?
“I’m not defending anyone because I have no idea what happened.” Bethie comes to claim the tray of beer and I wish I could wave her away and deliver them myself.
“Maybe I’ve misjudged you,” Mathias says in a cool voice.