Mattie held up her hands. “I don’t know about that.”

“What about you?” I asked, turning to Frankie. “When are we going to get you out there?”

She recoiled at the thought. “How about two days after never.”

Mattie laughed. “Careful. I thought that once and now I love it.”

“Didn’t you also almost get yourself killed your first year learning?” Frankie retorted.

“That wasn’t her fault,” Giles said, his jaw clenching at the mention of whatever accident must have happened.

Before I could bug Frankie more on the subject, Bev stopped by our table and put her arm on the back of my chair. I had met her when I first arrived, and we’d run into each other a few times as I was getting to the apartment and she was leaving the house. She seemed warm and welcoming from what I could tell.

“Hey, you all have everything you need?” she asked, looking down at me and patting my shoulder.

“I just sat down,” I said. “I’ll head to the bar and grab a drink.”

“Don’t bother.” She waved her hand. “I’ll have someone send over a bottle of wine and another cheese platter.”

“Thanks, Bev,” Mattie said.

“Can I steal you two for a minute?” she asked, looking at Giles and Mattie. “That new shipment of glassware came in, and I swear it’s the wrong color. I don’t want the delivery guys to leave until we can confirm it.”

“Oh, crap. They already messed it up once,” Mattie said, getting up. “I can pull up the invoice.”

Giles scooted his chair out and followed her. “We’ll be a few minutes,” he said. “Feel free to order whatever and don’t wait on us.”

Frankie sighed audibly once we were alone, which, for some reason, tickled me even more.

“Not happy with my company?” I asked.

She eyed me. “You’re fine.” She spread some cheese onto a cracker and stuck it in her mouth. Crumbs coated her lips and she daintily wiped them away with her napkin.

“Then what?” I propped an elbow on the table, letting my chin rest in my hand as I stared at her. “Afraid to be left alone with me? Better watch the wine or you might end up making out with me again.”

“I’m having a shit week.” She pointed the butter knife at me. “And that kiss was just as much you as it was me. And for your information, I’ve already had my one and only glass of wine for the night. I have a lot of stuff to do when I get back.”

“Like what?” I pressed.

“Like apply to hundreds more jobs and watch as control of my life slowly slips through my fingertips.” She frowned and stuffed another piece of cheese into her mouth.

Her dramatics made me chuckle, but when she scowled at me, I cleared my throat. “You’ll find something,” I said, hoping I sounded upbeat and optimistic.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence from the man who moved to a ski town late-season to work part time giving lessons,” she said. Again, I should be insulted, but her playful tone only begged me to exchange more barbs with her.