Chapter 13
The patio lights of the Lakeshore Inn flicked on as the sky shifted from pale salmon to indigo and the sun slid toward the lake, the waves shimmering in gold.
The weather was cool enough for people to wander around outside.
Small white lights twinkled along the railing, their glow catching on the water like drifting stars.
Inside, the event hummed with clinking glasses, the scrape of chairs and the low murmur of voices.
The white stucco walls, dark wood beams and large windows overlooking the water gave the room a warm, old Florida charm.
Light jazz played softly from the overhead speakers, barely audible under the chatter.
Mia wiped her palms on her apron and surveyed the buffet table. Her shoulders eased a notch. Maybe tonight wouldn’t implode. So far, everything was going according to plan. No hiccups. No missing food. No delays. A rare miracle.
The long wooden table held trays of roasted shrimp crostini, mini crab cakes with lemon aioli, mini brisket sliders on rosemary buns, two large charcuterie boards stacked with cheddar, goat cheese, salami, fruit, nuts and fig jam, and tomato tartlets.
The scent of roasted garlic and lemon from the crostini drifted upward, mixing with the brisket’s smoky sweetness.
Her stomach rumbled—ridiculous, considering she’d been cooking all day.
The shrimp and crab were crowd-pleasers and needed to be replenished.
Thankfully, she managed to get two new people to help.
Caleb had come through asking Norah if she could help. The woman in question was crossing the room with a tray of empty flutes balanced as if she’d been doing this for years. Quiet. Efficient. A good hire.
She stopped close, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, lowering her voice. “Uh, Mia? I should have asked before, but can I get paid in cash tonight? Or at least part of it?” Her eyes dipped for a moment. “It would really help.”
“No problem. We’ll sort it out after the last table is cleared.”
Norah’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Thank you. And if you need someone next week, I can help again.” She said it lightly, but there was a hopeful edge to her voice.
“I’ll keep you on the list,” Mia said. “You’re really good at this.”
Mia gave Norah a reassuring pat and headed toward Sarah.
Paying cash to servers didn’t bother her.
A lot of them lived paycheck to paycheck.
Picking up extra work for cash was a way to supplement their income.
It was Norah’s quiet desperation that bothered her.
But she didn’t need to get into another person’s problems right now. She had her own.
Sarah approached with a tray of bacon-wrapped dates and mini puff-pastry tarts with goat cheese and caramelized onions. The sweet-savory scent reached Mia a second before she did.
“The tarts are a big hit,” Sarah said. She stepped closer to Mia and leaned in. “You’re not going to believe this,” she murmured.
Oh, please. Not tonight. Not when everything was finally running smoothly.
“Don’t look now, but the women by the terrace doors are bitching about Sabrina. One of them said Sabrina lowballed a client so they wouldn’t go with you. And when the event fell apart, she quietly let everyone know it was your fault.”
Mia stared at her, anger prickling under her skin. “What?”
“I know.” Sarah nodded. “Then another woman said Dana’s been complaining she’s losing business to you.”
Mia could only shake her head. Gossip like this wasn’t much different from some of the caterers in New York. The difference was in the client pool. Huge in New York. Not so much in Haywood Lake. Rumors and gossip could ruin her business.
For a moment she felt nauseous. If people were talking about her stealing business, it could hit her bottom line. Not only her bottom line but her father’s care. Her entire future.
She blew out her breath. “Nothing to do about it except give the best food and service we can.”
“True,” Sarah replied. “On a positive note, Norah seems to know her way around an event. Good hire.”
“I agree.” Mia scanned the room. “Well, I’m going to get the desserts ready and mingle a bit. Hopefully get some more business.”
“People love your food. That’s not going to be a problem,” Sarah said, smiling as a partygoer grabbed a couple of puffs. “Once that event barn is built, you’ll have cornered the market.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Mia quipped, then waved her away. “Shoo. I don’t want to bring anything home.”
Sarah drifted to another group.
Mia headed toward the kitchen as a breeze carrying the scent of roasted garlic, caramelized onions and woodsmoke drifted in from the patio.
White paper lanterns hanging from the pergola swayed gently in the breeze.
For a moment, Mia let herself enjoy it. Beautiful venue.
Good food. Smooth service. She could almost believe everything was fine.
Almost.
A timer dinged in the kitchen behind her. Back to work before her thoughts ran away.
Downtown, the Thirsty Cock Ale House buzzed with energy, music, clinking glasses and the low hum of conversations.
The delicious odor of fried chicken hit Caleb as he pushed inside.
His shoulders loosened, tension bleeding off as the familiar noise and smells settled him.
His stomach growled loudly enough to be heard.
He was with Dex and Nate after a punishing workout at Titus Finch’s gym, PushYourLimit.
The Brotherhood didn’t have a gym at the Paws for Caring building, so this place was their unofficial home base.
They were joined by Liam McBride and Shawn “Linc” Lincoln, both deputy sheriffs in town, and Austin Peters, who was with the fire department.
A basket of fries sat in the middle of the table, already half gone.
Liam took a long pull of his beer and nodded at Caleb. “How’s the new dog working out?”
“Curious. Smart. Eats like he’s never seen food before. But he listens.”
Linc lifted a brow. “That’s more than we can say for half the deputies.”
The guys chuckled. A server came over, rattled off the specials and took their orders. Dex looked around. “I haven’t been here in … well, never. Is it always this crowded?”
“Usually on the weekends,” Caleb replied.
He took in the room. It had an old-time speakeasy feel, from the gold-patterned tin ceiling to the long wooden bar with leather stools.
One wall held an array of liquors; booths lined another with black-and-white pictures of Haywood Lake on the wall.
The floor was wood and worn, the lighting low. It was a comfortable place to relax.
Liam raised his glass. “To not being on call for the first time all week.”
Linc clinked his glass. “Speak for yourself. Dispatch will find me if I blink wrong.”
Austin smirked. “Perks of the fire department. Everyone only wants me when something’s on fire.”
Linc elbowed Caleb. “Must be nice being a civilian. Brotherhood guys don’t have to deal with half the nonsense we do.”
Caleb snorted. “Yeah, because chasing down smugglers and stolen cargo is a vacation.”
The table erupted in overlapping jabs. Typical guy noise.
Liam popped a fry into his mouth. “I hear you’re building a barn on the old Whitmore property.”
“Yeah, we’re starting Monday,” Caleb said.
Dex lifted his beer, eyeing Caleb over the rim. “So … Mia?”
Caleb didn’t even look over. “No.”
“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Dex said. “I was just going to say that if you weren’t interested, I might ask her out.”
The table went still as the men followed their exchange like a tennis match.
Caleb finally glanced over. “Dex.”
Dex held up both hands. “What? She’s cute. Knows her way around a kitchen, which is always a plus. And … last I heard, she was unattached.”
Austin snorted into his beer.
“That was subtle,” Linc added. “Pretty sure he’s trying to poke the bear.”
“No doubt about it,” Nate added, grinning. “Maybe I’ll ask her out.”
Caleb’s jaw flexed before he could stop it. “The two of you are looking for a beat-down next time we get in the gym. Besides, Mia and I barely know each other.”
A collective drawn-out “Ohhhhhh” rose around the table.
Dex grinned. “Right. That’s why you stare at her every time she walks into a room.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’d like …” Dex started.
“Don’t even think it,” Caleb cut in. Annoyance flickered low and sharp. It wasn’t jealousy. Dex chased anything shiny. Mia didn’t deserve to become his next passing interest. Besides, he was planning to ask her out himself. One of these days. Maybe.
“Boys. Boys,” said Liam.
Caleb muttered something that sounded a lot like idiot into his beer.
The noise of the bar covered their laughter. Caleb leaned back, trying to shake off the jab fest. Then Dex let out a low whistle. “Just saying, man, a woman like Mia won’t stay single long.”
That landed harder than Caleb liked.
He reached for his beer, but his mind drifted, not to Dex or Nate but to Roy. The guy was around the Whitmore place all the time fixing things. He blended in so well it was easy to forget he was there. Too easy. Men like that didn’t disappear. They waited.
Now he would be there front and center every day helping at the new barn.
Why did that sit so damn wrong with him?
And was he imagining a problem or watching one take shape right in front of him?