Her eyes get insanely wide. “Old Joe’s? You’re kidding. How is that possible?”
Her shocked expression makes me chuckle. “I’m typically only in town during summer—well,yoursummer—on business. And my family does most of their dealings in Portland. They don’t tend to spend much time at…smaller venues.” I clear my throat because the truth is that they’d never come to a tiny little diner like this when they could find something more upscale and notable out of town. And that truth makes me uncomfortable.
Romilly shrugs. “Well, they’re missing out. And it’s an honor to be part of the reason you’re here for the first time.”
Part of the reason?I want to laugh because she’s the entire reason. And though I’ve been trying to appear indifferent since I sat down, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off Romilly since I arrived. I stare into her eyes, hoping she’ll take notice of my excellent bone structure and let my charms penetrate her disinterest in me.
But she flips open the cover of her Bible instead. She smiles fondly, faintly, at it, like she’s never seen one before when she probably reads from it frequently, just like I do.
“So tell me,” she says. “How do you know Logan Henry?”
I blink in surprise. “Logan? He lives on the same block as my parents’ lake house where I’ve been staying. I met him while I was on a jog, and he was working on his car. Why?”
“No reason. Just curious.” She clears her throat. “He mentioned to me you’re possibly in the market for a job?”
It takes me a moment to process her words. “He—what?”
“We’re pretty short-staffed for our upcoming autumn homeschool retreat,” she continues. “If you’re interested, we’d love to have you as a camp counselor.” The words come out in a rush, like she’s afraid she won’t say them if they don’t come out fast enough.
“What’s an autumn homeschool retreat?” It’s all I can manage at the moment.
Her cheeks become an adorable shade of pink. “Sorry, I should have explained. It’s…” She drifts off, her expression turning dreamy. I stare at her, transfixed. “Well, it’s like a high-energy, week-longexperiencefor the homeschooled kids in town. We even get some kids from out of town, too. It will be this October over at Cranberry Pines Campground, right before the snow comes in. We do fun nature activities, have chapel time, and connect with others. It’s really fun. The purpose is to give the homeschoolers an avenue to build and deepen long-lasting relationships with each other through the church.”
“And you want me to be one of your leaders?” The idea is so comical, I’m almost certain I’m misunderstanding her. Anyone from my church back home would scoff at the idea of me being a camp counselor. All because of the rumors. All because of my appearance. And if I were approached with this job back home, I would rather be a test subject for open heart surgery without anesthesia than spend an entire week stuck in a cabin with any of them. Yet, here this woman is offering me this opportunity while not even knowing me. I can’t help but laugh. “Are you sure you want me?”
“Only if you’re interested. We’d pay you, of course. You just need to be vetted and go through a background check.”
“Romilly. Please don’t take offense to what I’m about to say. But I doubt the parents of these high schoolers would ever trust you again if you hired someone like me.”
She frowns. “Why? What’s wrong with you?”
“Well, there’s the fighting, for one. And if that’s not enough, there’s always the cigarettes, the tattoos, or the?—”
“Fighting?” She widens her eyes at me. “What kind of fighting? Like, hurting random people?”
I grin, because she looks so alarmed it’s adorable. “I fight professionally for Munera. It’s just for sport. But Logan was right…I do need a job. At least, until my next fight. And that’s two months away.”
She winces. “And the retreat isn’t till next month.”
“Yeah, I figured. You can count me in, but I don’t know how much help that will be to me at the moment.” I keep my voice gentle, because the last thing I want to do is disappoint her when she’s being so…kind. Generous. Non-judgy.
Romilly crosses her arms and stares off into the distance like she’s trying to think.
Something wet touches my elbow. I glance to the right, where a Labrador retriever stares at me expectantly. It licks my elbow again, and I offer it a gentle pat on the head.
“Sorry about that,” the owner, a middle-aged gentleman, says.
“It’s no problem, mate. I love dogs.”
When he leaves, I turn back to Romilly. She’s analyzing me in a strange way that has my eyes narrowing.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s nothing.”
“Oh, no it’s not. Not with you looking at me that way. Tell me.”
She blushes. “Um, well…I was just thinking since the church position is so far away, how about a job as my assistant dog bather?”
