The Book Waitress (Book 1, The Book Waitress Series) (5 page)

“He sees things differently. Aren’t you afraid he’s gonna find out you

r
e
trying to give her the boot behind his back?”

“We have a difference of opinion
right now
. We’re not seeing eye-to-eye on the future and what our next steps ought
to
be, but he’ll come around.”

“And what if he doesn’t? You could find yourself in a heap of trouble for meddling in his affairs.
He has
plans
for this one
, Nancy.
She’s different
than the others
.
You
do anything to mess
that
up
and he finds out, you’re dead meat and meeting Satan personally.”

“Well, that won’t happen, now will it? Not if you keep your big mouth shut about it.”

“I told you a million times I won’t say a word. But
don’t you think we’re starting to draw attention to ourselves? I mean Camille is the third librarian they’ve shipped over. Can’t you tell them we’re fine with just the two of us?”

“That’s not how it works. Certain size libraries get a certain amount of librarians. No, we’ll just have to beat the system. We need to make her so unwanted and uncomfortable that she leaves by week’s end. Can you handle that? Because all I’ve seen you be is nice.
” She
reached out and seized the older woman’s arm.

Nice doesn’t get her to leave, Susan. Mean and obnoxious and ruthless does. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Nancy released
the hold she’d had on
Susan’s
frail arm
and returned it to the steering wheel
as she pulled up to the curb by their house
.
“Good, go
inside
and think up all the mean things you can say and do tomorrow to make her day utterly miserable.
Channel the bitch I know is inside you.
I’ll see you when I get
back
. I have some errands to run. Ha! Already
I have some
wicked
things in mind
for her
.” She smacked her hands together and smirked.

***

Some
point
during the night, Camille woke and dragged her weary body up to her bedroom. Just before crashing again, she

d set her alarm
and now regretted that decision
. I
t
s obnoxious beeping earned it a toss across the room.
She
didn’t have to be at the
library until 1 pm, but
wanted to get herself s
et up before leaving for work. At the moment, though, h
er stomach ached from hunger. First on her agenda this morning, shop for groceries! Shuffling to the bathroom, she made a mental
to-do list
.

Buy food and necessities. Eat, dust, vacuum, wash the dishes and cups, and read.
She couldn’t go a day without reading something.
With last night’s encounter still fresh in her mind
, non-fiction paranormal
took
hold of her heart again.
It irritated her this morning that she freaked out. How many people could say they’d interacted with a couple of ghosts? Not too many, she was sure. Instead of running out, she should have stayed and interacted with them
more
.
The things
I
could have possibly learned from them
.

Showered and changed, she sprinted out the door and headed straight for the store. It took all of five minutes to walk there. She’d wind up in the best shape ever from all the walking she’d be doing
while on the island
.

Never had shopping been such a pleasure. It could have been her hunger talking, but they had everything she needed and it all looked scrumptious. Before sh
e knew it, her cart was filled.

“Would you like help out to your car?”

Her fantastic shopping trip just went down the toilet
. She
thought
briefly
to
drive
her car
to the island
, but something about keeping it in her driveway at home solidified in her mind that this transfer would be temporary. And when she found out how close everything was to each other, it seemed silly to bring her car only to drive a minute down the road
.
However, s
he didn’t
anticipate
the shopping
.
How would she get her groceries back to the house
?
Call a cab?
Possibly, but
that would be silly as
she lived just down the street.
Maybe, they w
ould let her wheel the cart home
if she promised to give it back.

“Um, actually, I don’t have a car. Quit
e frankly, I don’t know what I
should
do. Do you think maybe I can walk the cart to my house and return it?
I only live down the street
a bit
.
A five minute walk.

The cashier gave her a strange look, as though
people didn’t ask that question all the time
. She didn’t think it ridiculous
at all
to borrow the cart for a short walk home.

“I’ll have to ask my manager. I’ll be right back.”
As she walked over to Customer Service, Camille leaned against the stack of bottled water and stared at her forlorn cart of groceries. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave here without you.”

“Are you talking to your food?

Derek asked as he ambled over to her with a few bags in his hands.


You know what they say about people who talk to their food
, don’t you
?”
She walked over to her cart and pulled out a box
of
Goldfish
from one of her bags.


No, what?”

She tore into the box and shoved a handful of crackers into
her mouth. “They’re hungry.”

Derek chuckled. “Good one. Are you waiting for someone or are you just exhausted from the shopping workout you’ve had? Geez, I don’t think I’ve seen a cart so loaded since I lived with my parents.”

“Are you calling me a pig, Derek?”
She stared him down with a look she’d patented years ago. The look that said, “Gimme your best shot. I’ll still win.”

His eyes widened and he waved her off.
“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought that’s a lot of food for one person and

.

She rested a hand on her hip.
“So you’re calling me a hoarder now?

His face
, as pale as it had been, turned
even whiter.

“Oh
, God! T
his conversation has gotten way out of control. I’m sorry. I

.
” She couldn’t
hold her laughter in any longer.

“I’m busting your chops, Derek.
Relax.”

He hung his head and then looked up at her with a sparkl
ing
gaze
and a dimpled grin
.

“Nice, Camille. Real nice.”

“Hey,
when you got it, you got it
.”


And you got it all right.” They laughed together, and she completely forgot why she had been standing amongst the cases of water.

The cashier returned to refresh her memory. “I’m sorry, but store policy is the carts have to stay here.” She didn’t wait for Camille’s response, but instead, returned to her register.


That
bites.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to come up with another solution.

“What’s the matter?”

“I left my car on the mainland, thinking I
wouldn’t need it for anything. Well, h
ere’s

anything

, and I need it. How am I going to get these groceries home?
A cab is just silly. I only live down the road a bit.
” She took another handful of crackers before she fainted from hunger.

“I got my car right outside.” He jiggled his keys in the air. “I’ll tak
e you and your groceries home.”

“You would do that for me? But y
ou barely know me.”

“Your name’s Camille. You’re a librarian who loves having a stocked kitchen. I can tell that if you don’t eat something substantial soon you’re gonna keel over. Come on. No more talk. Let’s get you home and fed.”

“Thank you. You
’re
very kind. Probably the kindest person I know.” She smiled, and if her belly could smile, she knew it would have, as well.

In no time at all,
he
wheeled the cart
out of the store
,
loaded all the bags into
his bright orange
Chevy SS
,
and
drove them back to her house
.
He amazed her at every turn.
The man
even took the bags into her house. His
parents
had taught him well.

As she put the groceries away, she had a brilliant idea.
“Can I offer you a freshly made lunch for your efforts?”

“That would be great. I could use something right about now.”

“Super. I’m ravenous, so the quickest thing to make is peanut butter and jelly. You okay with that?”

“More than okay. I love PB and J. Throw me the bread and I’ll
make it
for us.”

Wondering what she’d done to deserve the star treatment,
Camille
observed
as Derek slathered one piece of bread with
a heaping of
peanut butter, and spread the jelly on the other slice.
Her mouth watered.
She learned immediately that care and precision were not his strong suits in the kitchen
.

“Do you cook a lot at home?” she asked
, fighting against her instinct to stay
aloof
.


Not really
.” He handed her a thick sandwich oozing with
the delectable spreads
. “
It’s
hard to
when I’m out investigating.
But while I’m here
on the island
,
it might be easier
.
Now, PB and J doesn
’t qualify as cooking, but
it’s all I got in me.
I hope you like
it
.
If not, feel free to reassemble.

He fixed another
one
for himself.

***

Derek watched Camille plunk down at the kitchen table, moaning and groaning over the most meager of meals as though it were lobster dripping in butter. He shook his head and sat down across from her. He thought he’d wrecked everything earlier at the store. Pieces of his foot were still being
extracted
from his mouth. Her humor delighted him. He may not have caught on to her jibing, but he’d be ready for it the next time.

“So what are you investigating? You said you were doing

important work
.’
” She
licked
at the gooey mix
ture as it oozed out the sides.

“Ooh, I
kinda
wish you hadn’t remembered that pompous remark. Sorry about that.
Sometimes my words sound right in my head but wind up making me
look like
a horse’s ass
.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m socially awkward
and have an intense dislike of people
. And why I just said that, I have no idea. See, there I go, being socially awkward.” She
closed her eyes,
dropped her head in her hands
,
and
sighed
. He
patted
her arm.

“Hey, it’s okay.
I
assum
e
,
and happily so, that
I
’m
not
one of those who you intensely dislike
since we’re breaking bread together.
So you’d like
to know
what I’ve been doing
, eh
?

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