Though it was hard to bite back her disappointment, Terrell chewed on the inside of her cheek and smiled. “That so? Well then, better close the curtains! Wouldn’t want you to get dizzy, sir. Today’s Friday Roast, you see, pretty popular ‘mongst the locals.” Merlin, it almost hurt her to sound so… so… common. But it was necessary, she reminded herself before continuing, voice swelling with cheerful pride, “‘Tis served with new potatoes, freshly steamed seasonal vegetables, Yorkshire puddings and gravy. If you’re a vegetarian, though, we have a vegetarian quiche…”
He suspected her, she thought as she closed the curtains. Though she hadn’t intended to push him down –and, in any case, she doubted a grown man would be able to fit through them without a tight squeeze –she had hoped the distraction would be enough for her to do something… possibly involving a blunt object to the head.
“Would you like to come down? I’ll be glad to attend you there, though…,” she paused, pretending to think, before smiling brightly, “well, heck, it’s a slow day. I could bring you something here if you want me to, for an extra pound.”