Chapter 13
13
Once their morning customers had cleared out, it was time to kick things into high gear and start decorating for their Under the Tuscan Sun Tea.
“How do you want to do this, honey?” Miss Dimple asked.
Theodosia opened one of her antique cupboards and pulled out a stack of red-and-white checkered tablecloths. “These go on the tables first, then we’ll figure out which set of china to use.”
“I vote for the Italian Cypress by Oneida,” Miss Dimple said. “It’s painted with those whimsical orange flowers and green leaves.”
“I second the vote,” Drayton called out.
“The ayes have it,” Theodosia said. “We go with the Italian Cypress.”
Theodosia and Miss Dimple set the tables with small plates, teacups and saucers, glasses, silverware, and napkins. Then she added silver trays with decorated sugar cubes and small pitchers of cream.
“What’s next?” Miss Dimple asked.
“Haley’s got bottles of olive oil and baskets of Italian breadsticks ready to go in the kitchen. So once those are placed on the tables, we can move on to the centerpieces.”
Miss Dimple hurried into the kitchen while Theodosia arranged bright yellow sunflowers in antique crocks and piled purple and green grapes into wicker baskets.
“Those are the centerpieces?” Miss Dimple said when she came out. “Lovely.” She turned toward Drayton. “Drayton, what do you think? How does it look?”
“Dear lady, I feel as if I stumbled upon the most marvelous bistro in all of Tuscany,” Drayton said.
“Let’s hope our guests feel the same way,” Theodosia said.
* * *
Turned out, they did.
When the big hand and the little hand both struck twelve, the floodgates opened and guests began to stream in.
Theodosia greeted everyone at the front door, Drayton administered a fair amount of compliments and air-kisses, and Miss Dimple led the guests to their seats at the tables. Brooke Carter Crockett, owner of Hearts Desire, and Leigh Carroll, owner of the Cabbage Patch Gift Shop, arrived together. Then tea regulars Jill, Kristen, Judi, Linda, and Jessica came bounding in, making for a happy gaggle of tea aficionados. They were followed by a half dozen guests from the Dove Cote Inn, a tea group from Ashleyville, and a handful of women from the Broad Street Flower Club.
As Drayton brewed tea and Theodosia made small talk, another dozen guests straggled in until finally the tea room was packed to the rafters. Which was Theodosia’s signal to get the luncheon rolling. She stepped to the center of the room, drew breath, and said, “Welcome, dear guests, to our Under the Tuscan Sun Tea. For the next hour and a half the Indigo Tea Shop invites you to enjoy the sights, smells, and tastes of Tuscany.” Theodosia paused, knowing there’d be a spatter of applause. And there was. Then she continued. “To begin today’s luncheon we’ll be serving savory rosemary and fontina cheese scones. These will be presented on our three-tiered trays along with baked mozzarella bites and cream cheese and sun-dried tomato tea sandwiches.”
Now Theodosia heard murmurs of “Wonderful” and “Delicious” and “Bring it on.”
“For your entrée our chef has prepared a homemade sweet sausage lasagna paired with a side salad with rustic Italian dressing. And for dessert you have your choice of tiramisu or cannoli filled with ricotta and cream cheese.”
“Or you could have both,” Drayton said, stepping forward to join Theodosia. “And because this is a tea shop, it stands to reason we would have a fine repertoire of tea.” Now all eyes were focused on Drayton. “For your sipping enjoyment today, I’ve created a house special that I call Andiamo. It’s a sublime blend of black tea, orange blossoms, and elderberry. I also have a lovely herbal tea flavored with anise.” He smiled, spread his arms open wide, and said, “ Grazie mille and mangiamo !”
That was the cue for Haley and Miss Dimple to carry out large three-tiered trays overflowing with goodies. And as they placed a tea tray on each table, Theodosia and Drayton grabbed teapots and began filling teacups.
Guests eagerly wolfed down the scones, mozzarella bites, and tea sandwiches, and looked downright guilty when they asked for seconds. And when the lasagna entrée was served, it was clear the Tuscan Tea was a roaring success.
“Excuse me,” a woman said to Theodosia. “With loose tea leaves, how long can I expect the flavor to last?”
“Give or take a year,” Theodosia said. “As long as your tea is stored properly in an airtight container that’s kept in a cool dark space.”
“And what are the most popular teas?” another woman asked.
“That would be Darjeeling, chai, English breakfast tea, and Earl Grey.”
“What country produces the most tea?” another woman asked.
“China, followed by India,” Theodosia said.
“We’re a hit,” Drayton said when Theodosia stopped by the counter for a refill. “Then again, judging from the number of reservations we had, I knew this tea would be a roaring success.”
“You did?” Theodosia had hoped they’d sell out and had worried up until this morning when a half dozen reservations came in.
Drayton touched a hand to his bow tie. “I never doubted it for a minute.”
* * *
By two o’clock the luncheon guests had departed and the afternoon tea sippers had arrived. They were a leisurely bunch, ordering mostly tea and scones, and easy to please.
“I’m thinking of skipping out early,” Theodosia told Drayton.
“To go where?” Drayton asked.
“I’d like to talk to that web guy, Adam Lynch, in person.”
“Don’t get too close to him,” Drayton warned. “Or he’ll likely knock a tooth out.”
Theodosia disappeared behind the celadon curtain and popped into the kitchen. Haley was stacking dishes into the dishwasher while Miss Dimple was nibbling a scone. “Thanks for all the hard work, guys,” she said. “You really made our customers happy today.”
“Isn’t that what we try to do every day?” Haley asked, a Cheshire cat grin lighting up her face. “Give our customers great food? Make ’em feel all warm and fuzzy?”
“Actually, the warm and fuzzy part comes when you look at the week’s receipts,” Miss Dimple said.
“Spoken like a true bookkeeper,” Haley said, then she waved at Theodosia and said, “I know it’s a business, but it’s fun , too.”
Theodosia couldn’t have agreed more.
* * *
Adam Lynch’s office was located in the same redbrick building on Broad Street where Carson Crousett, an event planner, also had his office. Theodosia peered in a narrow window to see if Carson was in, but the lights were off. So no dice. A few doors down the hall, she found what she was looking for in the form of a large buzzing yellow neon sign that shrieked The Lynch Mob .
When Theodosia walked into their office, the first thing she saw was another neon sign that said Work Smart and a messy front desk with a young man hunched behind a computer screen.
“Adam Lynch?” she said.
The young man looked up with a startled expression and shook his head. “No, I’m just the intern. Mr. Lynch is back in our work hub.”
“Great, would you kindly tell Mr. Lynch that Theodosia Browning is here to see him?”
The young man wrinkled his nose as he stood up slowly. “Are you a client?”
Theodosia gave an enigmatic smile. “You never know.”
“Okay. Whatever,” the young man said as he slipped through the door to the so-called work hub. Theodosia heard quiet mumbles for a few moments, then the young man came back out. “Go ahead in, Mr. Lynch is on a phone call, but he’s almost finished.”
“Thanks.”
Adam Lynch had his feet propped up on his desk and was wearing five-hundred-dollar Golden Goose sneakers, ripped blue jeans, and a T-shirt that said If at First You Don’t Succeed, Take a Tax Loss . Long sandy-colored hair was slicked back above a furrowed brow, and he had pale gray eyes and a crooked nose. Lynch’s mouth was highly animated since he was in the middle of chewing somebody out.
“Didn’t I tell you to buy our silver cloud package?” he said in a haranguing tone of voice. “Wouldn’t you think that would have given you a whole lot more data storage?”
Three other designers who were working on computers threw furtive glances at Lynch. Theodosia figured that a good deal of yelling went on in this office and that employee turnover was fairly high.
When Lynch finally got off the phone, he looked at Theodosia and said, “Did I miss an appointment?” He glanced at his computer screen and said, “I don’t think so.” Then he swung his feet off his desk and said, “What’s up? How can I help you?”
“I understand you designed the website for Cotton Duck.”
“My company created it, and we handle all updates and maintenance, yeah. Did they recommend me? Do you need help with a website?”
“Not exactly, but I do have a question for you.”
Lynch sat up straight in his bright green ergonomic chair and gave a smile that would warm a shark’s heart. “I charge two hundred and twenty-five dollars an hour for my time, whether it’s consulting or actual creative work. So, go ahead…the meter’s running.”
“This won’t take long. All I want to know is why you hit Bettina West and knocked her tooth out.”
“What!” Lynch looked as if he’d been slapped.
“See? Just one quick question,” Theodosia said. “Didn’t take but a few seconds of your time. Maybe two dollars’ worth.”
“Who says I hit Bettina?” Lynch asked. His face was starting to turn red, beginning at his collar, then working its way up to his forehead as if he were being dip-dyed in paint.
“Bettina told me you did. She said this incident happened right after she broke up with you and you had the temerity to slash her tires, stalk her, and then spread unflattering lies about her on social media.”
The three employees shot quick looks at Lynch. They weren’t exactly surprised, more like frightened.
Lynch pursed his lips, fighting to contain his anger. “This is about that wedding disaster, isn’t it? I read about it in the newspaper. Saw something on TV, too.”
“No, this is about you , Mr. Lynch,” Theodosia said in a calm voice. “You have a temper that’s hot enough to cause a meltdown at a nuclear reactor. A temper you are seemingly unable to control.”
“Wait, you think I’m the guy who sabotaged that greenhouse? That I caused that chick’s death?”
“After meeting you I think it’s within the realm of possibility.”
“No way, I have an airtight alibi,” Lynch said.
“That’s nice. Maybe when the police drop by to question you—and I know they will—you can regale them with your comings and goings of last Saturday.”
“The police? Lady, are you for real?” Lynch grabbed a glass globe that was sitting on his desk and hurled it at Theodosia. It missed her by inches as it whizzed past and smacked into the wall behind her.
“You are an animal,” she said.
Now Lynch was on his feet, his chair rocking wildly as his anger reached full fury. He pointed to the door and shouted, “Get out of my office right this minute! Daryl, start earning your keep around here and escort this person to the door!”
The designer who was sitting closest to Lynch scrambled to his feet.
Theodosia held up a hand. “I can find my way out perfectly well, Daryl. As far as Mr. Lynch goes, we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot.”
“You know what? I’m gonna kick you out myself!” Lynch shouted. “Now scram on out of here and stop bugging me.” Lynch dogged Theodosia’s footsteps, shouting at her, spitting out his rage, all the way to the front door until she was standing out in the hallway. “And don’t ever come back!” was his final outburst.
As the door slammed abruptly in Theodosia’s face, she said, “You see, there’s that nasty temper again.”