Chapter Sixteen #3
Cleo shifted to look at Sonya over her shoulder. “I get why you’re so into his books. He puts you there, right there, makes you feel it. Which is exactly why I’d avoid his books like the seven plagues if I hadn’t taken this job.”
“What works so well in this story? The monster is so much just a regular guy, until he’s not. And when he’s not, he can still bring some of that through. Just a regular guy who happens to feed on the youth, energy, vitality of young people in a sleepy southern town.
“I loved it. I swear, you can feel the Spanish moss, smell the lazy river that winds through, feel the heat pressing down. I can’t wait for the second book.”
“Don’t remind me I’m going to deal with this twice more.”
“I could tell you it’s fiction. Monsters aren’t real.” Owen gave a shrug. “But sometimes they are.”
“Thanks for that. And since I already know that, I’m only going to work on it in the bright, bright light of day.”
“Which is getting shorter.”
At that, she punched Owen’s arm.
“Just the facts,” he said as he drove into the village.
“I’ll save you, Cleo,” Sonya assured her. “And your illustrations are going to crush it. We’re also going to crush our own in-house monster, reopen the ballroom, and have one hell of a holiday party.”
“You’re feeling positive tonight,” Trey commented.
“I am. I realized today I’ve passed my three-month mark, which was sort of my borderline when I came here.
Give it a quarter of a year, see how it goes.
Well, I know how it’s gone, how it’s going, and I’m going to make sure where it ends up.
Meanwhile, I’ve got my bestie with me, I found my favorite cousin, have an adorable and faithful dog, met my biological grandmother. And.”
She turned, took Trey’s face in her hands for a kiss. “I found you. That’s a lot of positive.”
Now Trey laid a hand on her cheek. “That’s why you’ll crush her.”
When they walked in, they found the restaurant doing a booming Friday night business. The pretty young hostess gave Trey her wistful smile before her gaze ticked to Sonya. With envy.
“Welcome. We’ve got your table ready.”
“Speaking of crushing,” Sonya murmured.
Trey gave her a poke. “Stop.”
“We’re full of facts tonight.”
“Ian will be your server. He’ll be right over.”
“Busy night,” Trey commented.
“Busy week. Your parents were in last night, Trey. It’s always good to see them.”
She passed out menus. Trey picked up the wine list to study.
“How about we try this chenin blanc? Bree mentioned it.”
“If Bree gave it a yes, so do I,” Sonya told him.
“I’ll take my one stingy glass of it.”
Ian came over, his face wreathed in smiles under his orange-streaked topknot of dark hair. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to see you all here. Can I start you off with drinks?”
“We’re going to try this chenin blanc.” Trey tapped the menu.
“Chef gives that top grades.”
“So I hear. A bottle of sparkling water with it, Ian. How’s it going?”
“Really well, thanks.” He looked at Sonya. “I’ve got an interview in Boston on Monday. I really appreciate you putting in a good word for me with Green Engineering.”
“Happy to do it. We’re all about crushing it tonight, so I know you’ll crush the interview.”
“I’m sure going to try. And speaking of crushing it, we’ve got a couple of specials that do just that.”
When he’d recited them, he left to get the wine and water.
“I’m going for that sea bass,” Owen decided. “I’m not even going to ask what crisp paupiette is.”
“French,” Cleo told him. “I’m also going French-ish with the shrimp de Jonghe.”
“I’m sticking with Maine. Grilled lobster tails. You?” Sonya asked Trey.
“I think … going with a favorite. Lobster ravioli. I’m firm on jalapeno hush puppies for a table app.”
“Sold.”
As they drank wine, shared the starter, Trey steered the conversation toward the proposed museum.
“I wanted to let you know Ace is making headway there.”
“I had no doubt.”
“A lot of threads to tie, but he’s good at it.”
“Poole Shipbuilders are on board. That’s from the top,” Owen added. “We’ll pledge a sizable donation—amount still under discussion—put some of the Poole business history in, snag naming rights on one of the rooms or sections.”
“Naming rights. I hadn’t thought of that. I wonder … Why are you smiling like that?” she asked Trey.
“Pretty sure I know where this is going.”
“Oh yeah?” She picked up her wine. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“The Collin Poole and Andrew MacTavish Room.”
“You know her,” Cleo murmured. “And got it in one.”
“He did.” Under the table, Sonya squeezed his hand. “It honors them both, and it puts my father’s connection to the manor right out there, where it belongs. I don’t know how that sort of thing works, but—”
“I do.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it. “We’ll make it happen.”
As they finished their mains, the redheaded missile that was Chef Bree shot out, nudged Trey, and plopped down.
Her face still flushed from the kitchen, she pointed at Owen first. “The bass?”
“You see any left here?”
“I do not. FYI, you’re all sharing the Heaven on Earth and the passion fruit mousse. And you’re welcome. You”—she leaned around Trey to point at Sonya—“good idea about the museum.”
“You heard about it?”
“Word gets around. Pretty sure Ace Doyle made sure of that.” She beamed at Cleo. “You did pretty well on the shrimp.”
“I’d have done better if I’d bypassed the jalapeno hush puppies.”
“No one can. Anyway, my news. Manny and I are making it official.”
Trey managed to keep his jaw from dropping. “You’re getting married?”
“What?” She snorted, slapped his arm. “Dude! No. Later for that if this works out. We’re not just moving in together.
We’re renting a house together. Nice little bungalow a block back.
Kitchen’s been redone, so that pulled me—and all my gear.
It’s got a finished half basement that pulled Manny, and all his.
We move in the second week of September.
“I’m revved.”
“You’re always revved,” Owen pointed out. “But congratulations, right?”
“Right is right.”
“That should make it easy for you to talk him and Rock Hard into playing in our ballroom for our holiday party at the manor.”
Bree leaned past Trey again. “Seriously? I thought I heard that ballroom place was full of stuff.”
“We’re working on it. And we’ll need you.”
“Goes without saying. Bash in the Ballroom. I’ll think about it. Gotta get back. Ian’ll bring you cappuccinos after they clear. Later.”
She zoomed off, and Sonya just grinned. “You know if I went for women, she’d give you serious competition, Trey.” Then leaning over, she clinked her glass to Cleo’s. “Another step in our holiday plans in place.”