She would’ve arrived at the Olive sooner, but she and Ben had gotten stuck in traffic on the way back from the airport. And boy, had that been one awkward cab ride.
They hadn’t said one word to each other, and she knew it was more her fault than his. After being barraged by those reporters at the airport—reporters who knew her name—she hadn’t known what to say or how to react. The cameras, the photographers, the questions…it was all too overwhelming. Terrifying, if she were being honest. So she’d stayed silent, despite the fact that Ben looked desperate to talk about what happened.
Well, she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not now. Not when she had an entire evening of waitressing to get through, not when she still couldn’t put into words how the sight of those reporters had made her feel.
Smothering a sigh, she finished dressing and tied her hair up into a ponytail. God, she didn’t want to be here right now. How could she possibly focus on work when her body still felt bruised from all those reporters’ questions, when her mind was still swimming with confusion about her feelings for Ben Barrett?
The last thing she felt like doing was working, and the feeling only grew stronger when she stepped out of the lounge and realized the owner of the bar had finally decided to make an appearance. She gave a startled gasp as she bumped into Jeremy Henderson in the hallway.
“Hello, Mr. Henderson,” she said quickly, struggling to tie her apron and keep a polite smile on her face at the same time.
He appraised her with a cool look. “You’re late, Ms. Reilly.”
“I know. It won’t happen again,” she said yet again.
Without replying, he moved past her and rounded the counter, where he exchanged a few words with Matt.
She stifled another sigh. Great start to a shift, pissing off both her manager and the bar owner in less than the five minutes she was late by. Pausing at the counter, she grabbed an order pad and a tray, and turned around just in time to bump into Trisha.
Trisha?
“What are you doing here?” Maggie demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the puppet show? That’s why you took my shift yesterday, right?”
Splotches of crimson stained Trisha’s olive-colored cheeks. “Uh, I traded shifts with Kate. Lou cancelled tonight but we’re going out to dinner tomorrow so I needed Kate to cover for me.”
“Lou cancelled?”
“Um, yeah.”
Disbelief and suspicion battled for her brain’s attention. This whole shift switcheroo hadn’t sat right with her from the beginning. “There was no musical, was there?” she said slowly.
Trisha’s cheeks grew redder. “No,” she finally admitted. “But Lou and I really are going out tomorrow and it’s the first time he’s wanted to take me out to dinner in ages so I had to switch with Kate and—”
“I need to speak to both of you,” their manager’s voice interrupted Trisha before she could finish.
Linda stalked over, gesturing for them to follow her to the other end of the counter. With the Olive’s owner out of earshot, Linda fixed both waitresses with a deadly stare. “I spend two hours every week writing up a damn schedule, and I won’t have any of my employees screwing around with it at their leisure.”
Trisha’s flush deepened. “Linda—”
“Let me finish.” The manager turned to Maggie. “The next time you decide to take a personal day, you clear it with me first, understand? You don’t call Trisha and Kate and make changes to the schedule without speaking to me, Maggie.”
She swallowed. “I…”
“And you,” Linda cut in, turning to Trisha. “You don’t take anyone’s shift without asking me. Now both of you, get to work. Jeremy is here, so you had better be on your best behavior.”
“What the hell is going on?” Maggie demanded after Linda marched away. “You never cleared it with Linda?”
“You can thank me later,” Trisha shot back. “I just got bitched at by our boss so you could go on a romantic getaway with Tony.”
Tony?
Trisha hurried off before Maggie could respond. Since she was fairly certain her manager’s eyes were glued to her, Maggie gripped her order pad and headed toward one of her booths. She had to erase her customer’s order three times before she got it right, but she couldn’t force her bewildered mind to focus on work at the moment.
Trisha thought she’d gone away with Tony? Why would she think that? And how had she even known Maggie was away?
She drifted back to the counter and placed her drink orders with Matt, then curled her hands into fists as it dawned on her.
Ben.
Ben must have somehow contacted Trisha and asked her to cover last night’s shift.