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"Rose's bakeshop," Philipa's voice rang across the phone, and Pete readily recognized it.
"Mrs. Philipa," He called, and Philippa's eyes lit up at the sound of his voice, which she had become well acquainted with in the past couple of days.
"Mr. Pete," She chirped excitedly, her eyes readily roaming around the shop in search of Lina, who she spotted pacing the front of the shop and frantically dialing a number. "Hold on, let me get her." She gingerly offered, set to drop the receiver and go pull Lina over.
"No, it's fine," Pete hastily stopped her. "If she's busy, I don't want to disturb her."
Philipa darted her eyes towards the door and glanced at Lina. "She's more pissed than busy." She said with a sigh as she watched Lina yell to someone over the phone.
A crease crossed Pete's forehead when he heard Philipa sigh with exasperation. "Is something wrong? Why is she pissed?" He curiously inquired.
