Page 10 of Arctic Panda's Secret Mate
“I told you, this isn’t strip poker,” Saina said quellingly. “You don’t get to take your shirt off just because you lost a hand. My favorite gift was sea glass the color of my eyes.” She smiled at Bastian.
“My favorite gift was you,” he said with a return smile.
Lydia yawned. “My favorite gift, after all of that travel and wonderful food, is going to be a pillow and my bed.”
That prompted everyone to chime in about what a long day it had been, and how comfortable their beds looked as they rose to their feet and began to disperse. Tristan immediately started gathering up the last mugs and glasses.
Tristan took as many as he could carry and Breck brought twice as many, easily balanced on his tray like a juggler.
“You don’t have to worry about gifts,” Breck said unexpectedly, as they loaded the dishwasher. “Not all of us come from money, you know.”
“I should have thought about them before, though,” Tristan pointed out, grateful for his kindness. “I’m just feeling flat-footed. Have you seen any carving knives around?”
“Like roast-carving knives?” Breck gestured at the magnet bar that held a range of sharp, quality knives.
“No, like wood-carving. I thought I might use some firewood and make everyone an ornament. Something simple. A snowman or something, I wouldn’t have time for anything complicated. I guess I’d need hangers, too.”
“I’ll keep my eyes out. There are a few buildings out back that might have tools.”
“I’ll look tomorrow,” Tristan said. “Thanks.”
He went back to his room feeling some hope for the holiday season. The Shifting Sands Resort staff had gone out of their way to make him feel welcome, and he hoped that he could somehow repay their generosity.
10
HAISLEY
Haisley was not at all in a holiday mood by the time the guestsfinallystarted going upstairs to their respective rooms and settling down.
She decided she could venture out once she’d heard most of the noise on the steps go quiet.
But before she could get to the kitchen she heard nearby footsteps and two men appeared quietly at the door to the kitchen. She had to dart into the broom closet and hope they weren’t planning to do any deep cleaning. Hadn’t they been traveling all day? Weren’t they exhausted and ready for bed?
She overheard Quiet Vegetarian Guy’s request for woodworking tools and chewed on her lower lip. There were no carving tools in the chalet, but she knew where they might be.
When they finally,reallyleft, Haisley went to the middle of her dark kitchen and heaved a great sigh. It didn’t look particularly disrespected, but there were a lot of things that were not whereshekept them. She started to tidy and then remembered she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She straightened a dish towel defiantly.
Then she went to raid the fridge.
There were leftovers of the stroganoff, and Haisley could not resist tasting a forkful. One of her smaller glass containers was marked “Tristan” and she peeled back the lid (with a fresh fork—she wasn’t a barbarian!) to taste it. Yes, it was her vegetarian variety, but there was basil in it, and it workedflawlessly.The tourists’ chef might actually be better than her, she thought.
“Food is not a competition,” she reminded herself out loud, sounding rusty. How was it possible to become bad at speaking after just one day?
She made herself a sandwich, skimming ingredients carefully so no one would notice her theft. She didn’t take the last of anything, and she snagged a slice each from a bag of white bread and whole grain; she liked the flavor asymmetry anyway.
There weren’t a lot of easy isolation food options. Chips and munchy things were stocked in food service sized bags and Haisley didn’t trust herself not to eat themwhole thingif she took one, so she packed herself a few ziploc baggies from whatever was open. After considering, she made a second sandwich, with a slice of rye and a slice of sourdough. Sandwiches were best made fresh, but beggars (and squatters) couldn’t be choosy.
She took a few carrots and peeled them. She didn’t dare run the garbage disposal, so the peels went in the trash. While she was fussing in the fridge, she automatically moved a few things to the front of the shelves to suggest good meals, then scolded herself and tried to put them back where she’d found them.
She was not good at sneaking.
After a couple of trips, she had refilled her tiny minifridge and grabbed a few cans of soda that they had on hand for picnics.
It was still quiet on the floors above, so Haisley crept out into the great room to see if they’d made a mess there.
There were cushions and pillows pulled from the couches and piled before the fireplace. Someone’sclothingwas draped haphazardly over the couch and Haisley tsked out loud before she reminded herself that she was supposed to be surreptitious.
