Thirty-Three
I returned downstairs to the galley, my head spinning. I was keeping my job and I had my boss’s blessing to . . . have an official relationship. Roy put his knife down when he saw me, and braced himself on the counter. “So?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, bewildered. On autopilot, I got back to work.
I picked back up chopping vegetables for dinner service, and let my brain mull things over while I diced. Then Roy plunked down next to me.
“What are you doing?”
I blinked and focused my eyes. I’d been staring at the cutting board without actually cutting anything for several minutes. I blinked more, trying to ease the sting of dry eyes that had been staring off into space.
“I’m thinking.”
Roy picked up a whole carrot and brandished it at me. “And cutting v
