Katie propped her chin on her hand and sighed. “Details, woman. I need details.”
“Since the Benoits are about thirty seconds from walking in the door and I don’t think they want details, you’re out of luck. Not that I’d share, anyway.”
“And you say I’m diabolical.”
“Tell me what you want to eat so I can get your order in before the place starts filling up.”
A half hour later, the Trailside Diner was in full morning swing and Paige didn’t get a chance to do more than wave when Katie was ready to leave. She wanted to tell her friend not to tell anybody about their conversation because she didn’t want to be added to the story roster in town, but she’d have to take it on faith Katie wouldn’t spill. She might tell Mallory, though, and Mallory might tell…hell. There was a good chance everybody would know by the end of the day.
As busy as it was, though, Paige couldn’t stop herself from wondering if Mitch would stop in for breakfast. And, if he did, whether she’d be able to look at him without her face turning stoplight-red, which would definitely give her customers something to chew on besides their sausage links. Speculation was the lifeblood of the town, and Paige acting like a silly, besotted schoolgirl would be something they hadn’t already dissected to death.
He didn’t show, though, and while she knew she should be relieved, she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. He wasn’t a man accustomed to hearing the word no, so maybe now that she’d said yes, he’d lost interest in her.
And that would be fine, she told herself sternly as she carried a tray of juice glasses to a back table. She wasn’t going to fret about it and jump every time the door opened or the phone rang, like her mother would. It had been an exceptionally good time, but it was also temporary, like a trip to the bowling alley. A few hours of fun and then it was over. He wouldn’t call. He wouldn’t text. And neither would she.
After her shift was over, Paige grabbed her bag of books and walked to the library, just as she’d planned to do before Mitch had fixed her sink and then rocked her world. Nothing had changed in her life and today wasn’t any different from any other day. It was basically what she’d been looking for and what he’d told her she’d get.
As soon as she got to the circulation desk and saw Hailey’s face, she knew her fear that nothing so juicy as Mitch’s visit could stay a secret in Whitford was justified. “Hi, Hailey. How’re library things today?”
“Good. Very good, actually, now that I know the citizens of Whitford are safe from any violent sprees that might have been in your future.”
There was no sense in denying it, especially if Hailey had talked to Katie. “You’re all safe for a while longer.”
Hailey gave a dreamy sigh as she started checking in the returned books, and Paige realized it was a little weird for them to be having this conversation. Maybe that’s why Hailey didn’t ask for details—she already knew them—and it seemed as if there should be at least a little awkwardness between two women who’d slept with the same man, even if one of them had done so many years before.
“Are you going to see him again?” Hailey asked, and she rolled her eyes when Paige said she wasn’t sure. “That’s Mitch. He won’t commit to so much as a cup of coffee. He told you that, right?”
“That when he leaves he won’t call, write or text? Yeah. And that works for me.”
“Have you talked to him since?”
“Nope. And I’m not sitting by the phone, either.”
“Good for you.” Hailey looked around, as if to make sure there was nobody lurking in the nearby stacks, eavesdropping. Would have been nice if she’d thought to check that before bringing up Paige’s sex life. “Did you hear about Drew and Mallory?”
“No. I saw Katie this morning and she didn’t say anything.”
“I’m not sure many people know. But for the last two nights, Drew’s been sleeping at the police station.”
“That’s not a good sign.” Paige shook her head. “I keep hoping they’ll work it out, but it doesn’t look like it. It’s one thing to not talk to each other for a while, but not being able to sleep under the same roof is bad.”
They had to drop the conversation as another patron approached, so Paige grabbed a few paperbacks that looked good off the new-release display and then wandered to one of the back tables, where a three-thousand-piece puzzle was about a third of the way done. She sat and lost herself in the pieces for a while, working on a tough spot it looked like the other puzzle-doers of Whitford were avoiding.