Glorina
I had considered ordering supper in my room, but remembered Mr. McLichtensen advice that I should have most of my meals in the dining room.
Not that sitting alone and watching people was much better than being alone.
I had expected Tolly to be there, but he was nowhere to be seen. He could have been in the kitchen, I suppose. I didn't want to go back to check, or ask anyone.
Belinda stopped by my table when I was about half done.
"How do you find your room, Ms. Hoi?" she asked me.
"Very comfortable," I said, truthfully. "And so roomy too. My accommodations aren't usually so commodious." This was also true.
She bit back a laugh. "You and Uncle Tolly should get along just fine," she told me.
"I haven't seen Mr. McLichtensen tonight," I said.
"Oh, he comes and goes. Has all kinds of things he has to do. Don't worry, you'll be seeing a lot of him while you're here."
I smiled and nodded.
"How's the food?" she continued.
"Excellent. I'd like to commend the cooks."
"I'll tell them." She looked pleased. "You're looking much better than you did at lunch."
Had I seen her at lunch? I didn't remember. Perhaps she had just seen me. "I'm feeling much better," I told her. "I think the rest must have done me good."
"I'm glad," she said. "Don't let yourself get so peaked again. Take time to rest and sleep. And if Uncle Tolly gives you any trouble about it, come tell me. I'll straighten him out."
"I thought Mr. McLichtensen was in charge here," I said, putting a puzzled expression on my face.
"So does he," she said with a laugh. Then she moved on to the next table.
Later, while I was trying to decide whether to have dessert or not, a man with brown-red hair and a boyish face came to my table. "May I talk to you for a moment, Ms. Hoi?" he said.
It took me a moment to recognize him, Jasin Smythe, from his picture in the file. Of course, I couldn't let him know that. "I suppose," I said. "Do I know you?"
He sat down across from me. "Not yet." He grinned at me, the boyish charm more evident. "Sorry to disturb you," he said. "My name is Jasin. Jasin Smythe. Belinda's husband."
"I'm pleased to meet you," I said, putting on my most friendly smile.
I liked this man. Open. Friendly. Quite a bit of charm. If I had determined not to bed Tolly, I had made no such determination about him. Then again, it might be a good idea to keep Belinda as an ally. There was time to decide.
"Call me Glorina," I said, nodding my head. If I had been standing, I would have given him a formal bow.
"Glorina, then." He grinned again. "You'll probably be seeing a lot of me as well. I frequently come to work in the evenings and weekends. Belinda usually has me tending the bar."
"What do you do the rest of the time?" I asked. I knew from my files that he was an accountant in the next building, but they shouldn't know that I knew.
"I'm an accountant," he said. "I've got an office over in the next building." He indicated the direction with his thumb. "Tolly lets me have the office rent-free if I work here occasionally."
I frowned. "Is that legal?" Not that I had much to do with legality.
"I also do the books for the pub and rooms. It all works out in the end."
I noticed that he hadn't actually answered my question. "So, you keep Mr. McLichtensen's books for him?"
He burst out with a bark of laughter. "Oh, no, not the big guy's books. I wouldn't dare touch them. I know my limits. Just the restaurant and rooms."
I frowned. I was missing something. There had not been any indication of anything that would make Tolly's books that hard to keep.
Jasin saw my confusion. "Tolly has a lot of investments in a lot of places," he said. "He learned the value of diversifying long ago. He has something of a touch for it. If he gives you advice in something to invest in, he's usually right. Take it if you can, as he doesn't offer it unless he's nearly certain."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Smythe."
"Jasin, please." He smiled at me, then looked me over. I had the distinct impression that he was studying me. "I'm sorry for staring, Glorina," he said after a moment. "It's just that . . . how old are you?"
I thought he had changed topics in the middle of his sentence. "Twenty-three," I said, giving the approved answer. It might even be true. I wasn't sure, but I thought it probably was close to being true. I had no memories before the time I would have been about twelve or thirteen.
He flashed a brief smile at me. "It's just . . . My oldest daughter's about ten years younger than you. And I think she's taller."
"I'm not a child," I said. "I'm as tall as I'm going to get, unfortunately."
"Yes, you do appear to be full grown," he agreed. He glanced over my shoulder. "Belinda's scowling at me. I think she wants me to get back to work." He stuck out his hand. "I'm glad to meet you, Glorina. Let me know if you need anything." After we shook hands, he slipped away from the table.
I turned around. It didn't look like Belinda was scowling. She smiled as he came up to her and put his arm around her waist. She kissed his cheek, then laughingly slapped his arm away from her, and shooed him off. He grinned at her, then went back to the bar.
I was starting to hate my job.
Interesting scene, with a bit of mystery.
Yay, you did it. You broke from the numbered smiles, and it reads so much smoother.
Good job on the conversation with Jasin. Nothing in this entry pulled me from the story.