Chapter 18
Eighteen
“How many guests do you expect at the banquet?” Liv asked as she jotted down the date and location of the high school sports banquet.
“Our fall banquet is our smallest since we only have three sports,” Lydia answered.
Liv had assumed as much. Even when she’d attended Harbor Regional, the only sports offered in the fall had been cross-country, soccer, and golf. Although it was a regional school and students from various towns attended, there simply weren’t enough students interested in typical fall sports.
“We tried to field a football team but were short on players again.”
For as long as she could remember, the school had been trying to expand its athletic program by adding more sports. Sometimes it was football, other years it was field hockey or volleyball. Each time, however, they encountered the same problem: a lack of interest.
“We have forty-four student athletes. Each one is given two tickets, so the maximum would be 132, but we’ve never had all the athletes show up. Based on past banquets, I estimate there will likely be 120 people there.”
Liv’s phone vibrated inside her pocket. She’d turned it to silent mode when Lydia walked in because there was nothing professional about her phone alerting her to messages while meeting with a client.
Still, she had to fight the urge to pull it out and check who the message was from.
Despite telling her he’d call last night, Matt never did.
In his defense, he knew she was working a double, so he might have assumed she wouldn’t be up for a chat after work.
Unfortunately, the lack of a phone call or a text message had kept her awake, leaving her to wonder not only about the photos but also what he was up to.
“Do you want us to prepare enough to serve 120, then?” Liv hated it when customers didn’t give her precise numbers, especially since, if there wasn’t enough food, people blamed the catering company, not the person who’d planned the event.
“What’s the price difference between 130 and 120?”
Her phone vibrated again, and Liv’s grip on her pen tightened.
“It would depend on the meal, but it would be less than $200.”
Lydia considered the answer for a moment. “Can we go with 130 and adjust once I get the RSVPs back?”
Nodding, she added the figure to the form. “That’s what most people do. I’ll just need a final number two weeks before the banquet.”
Liv flipped open her planner. “So, I would need the final count by Halloween.”
With an estimated guest count settled on, Liv moved down the list of required information, and roughly forty-five minutes after sitting down, Lydia was signing the contract and handing over a credit card.
“I’m really looking forward to this year’s banquet. I think the student athletes and their families are going to enjoy it so much more than last year’s.”
When she’d attended the school, there hadn’t been an athletic banquet.
Instead, at the end of each sport’s season, everyone gathered in the auditorium and the athletic director recognized those teams that had performed well or, in the case of her brother, set a new school and state record in the 3200-meter race.
“Where was it held last year?” Liv stapled a receipt to Lydia’s copy and handed everything to her.
“The Stage Coach Inn. I won’t go back there again.”
One of the oldest hotels in Bar Harbor, Liv had attended more than one wedding there.
“The food was awful, and there wasn’t enough. Some people ended up with only salad and bread.”
She’d heard the kitchen had experienced a lot of turnover since the new owners purchased the hotel.
“The senior class held its prom there in April, and the same thing happened.”
“Well, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen in November.”
Smiling, Lydia patted her hand. “I know you won’t.”
Sometimes Liv wondered where she might be if she’d taken her love of cooking to a major city, such as Boston or Los Angeles.
Instead of living over her family’s restaurant and picking up shifts as a waitress, she might be running her own kitchen in a five-star restaurant, or maybe she’d have her own show on a cooking channel.
Lydia’s comment, though, told her she was right where she belonged.
So what if she didn’t have a brand-new car and a house with a yard big enough to grow all the fresh vegetables she wanted?
She was not only doing something she loved, but she had also earned a reputation as not only a great chef but also a trustworthy businesswoman.
“If you think of anything you want to change, call or email me.”
“I will, and as soon as I have the final count, I’ll be in touch.”
Liv waited until the door closed behind Lydia before pulling out her phone. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a message from the person she wanted to hear from. Instead, there were two reminders: one for an upcoming dentist’s appointment and another asking if she wanted a quote on new windows.
Deleting both, she checked the time. It was almost nine in California. More than likely, Matt was awake. Should she call him or wait and see if he reached out?
And if she did call him, what should she say? She didn’t want to accuse him of cheating yet. Despite repeatedly telling herself not to jump to that conclusion, last night she’d been unable to think about anything else every time she thought about the pictures.
Wait a little longer. He might be on his way to see his mom.
While she waited, she’d tackle the next item on her to-do list—this month’s invoices. After selecting a playlist from her phone, she opened her accounting program and got to work.
“Knock, knock.”
At the sound of a male voice, Liv’s heart rate shot through the roof, and she spun in her chair. Usually, she heard the door chimes when someone walked inside. Whether it was because of the music or the fact that she was so focused, she hadn’t heard them.
It took her brain a second to recognize that Sebastian and not some crazy serial killer stood opposite her desk.
“Sebastian, it’s only you.” Closing her eyes, she placed a hand over her heart and took a deep breath. “Man, you scared me.”
“Sorry about that.”
Her brain recognized she wasn’t in danger, but her body still hadn’t received the message, and Liv took another slow, deep breath. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have the music on so loud.”
A mistake she wouldn’t make again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday.” Maybe if she’d answered his text, he wouldn’t be standing across from her desk now. She’d been exhausted by the time she got home last night. “I worked a double at the restaurant. How are you?”
And what are you doing here?
“Don’t worry about it. I’m good. I started moving my stuff into my new house this weekend. The kitchen was finished on Friday, and the painter should be done on Tuesday.”
“Sounds like you had a lot of work done.”
Without asking, Sebastian sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Yeah, the house hadn’t been touched since it was built. I had the bathrooms and the kitchen remodeled and new hardwood floors put down.”
Sounded like an expensive endeavor.
“I wouldn’t have been able to have it all done at once, but Paul gave me a huge discount.”
She’d forgotten Seb’s brother-in-law owned his own business.
“You must be glad it’s done.”
“I’ve been sleeping on a twin-size air mattress with pink ballerina sheets in Regina’s living room for the past week. Glad doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.”
Liv couldn’t contain her laughter at the thought of Sebastian, who’d wrestled in college, sleeping on a twin mattress while covered with ballerina sheets.
“It beats sleeping outside with no mattress.”
“Not by much.” Leaning forward, Seb rested his arms on the desk. “Once I’m all moved in, I’m having a housewarming party.”
Would it be asking too much if he’d come in because he wanted Ocean View to provide the food for this party?
“Well, if you need the name of a great caterer, I might know of one.”
“I might take you up on that offer,” Seb replied with a smile.
Although the smile transformed him from the average-looking guy down the street to someone cute, it didn’t have the same effect on her as Matt’s smile.
“But I didn’t stop in to talk about my house. I wanted to see if you had any plans for tonight.”
Yesterday, Emma mentioned that he’d inquired about her relationship status. Until now, though, Liv didn’t realize she’d never asked Emma what she told him.
She always felt bad when she turned down a man’s invitation to go out—well, unless the man asking was the Worm. Now wasn’t any different.
Liv bit down on her lip while thinking of the nicest way to turn Seb down. Although their relationship had ended, she truly didn’t have any hard feelings toward him.
“Sorry, I have plans with Emma. And I also have a boyfriend.”
“So what? Since when does being in a relationship stop a person from going out with a friend?”
“Well, it doesn’t.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I don’t believe you’re asking because you see me as a friend.
“Is it safe to assume you’re still seeing Matt Sherbrooke? I knew he looked familiar that day outside your apartment, but I didn’t know that’s who he was until Regina showed me the pictures of you and him playing mini golf.”
Unsure of the point Seb intended to make, Liv nodded.
“How long do you really think things between you will last?” Despite his compassionate tone, the question stung.
“Someone like him isn’t going to be happy here year-round, and we both know you’ll never move.
” Seb’s fingers curled around her hand. “And let’s be honest, celebrities aren’t known for lasting relationships. ”
Why did he have to bring up all the arguments she’d managed to bury?
“Have dinner with me as just a friend, nothing more, while he’s gone.”
“How—”
“It was hard to miss the pictures of him on the Star Report while I waited for my espresso. It said it was taken on a harbor cruise in Virginia.”