Chapter 4 #2
“Thanks, best boss ever.” Quinn swipes up her fork and reaches for the strawberry jelly.
I point my spatula toward the living room. “Vivien, your bag and things are in there. I called Noah this morning, and he dropped them off before going to school.”
Her mouth falls open. “Really? That’s incredible. I can’t believe you did that.”
Quinn snorts around a mouthful of food. “I can.”
I ignore Quinn and keep focus on Vivien. “You should check that everything is there. Not because Noah would steal, but because he’s a teenage boy and might have only handed me half your things.”
I’m not going to mention how I paid him a considerable amount, both to bring the items here on his way to school and to purchase the breakfast items I’m currently cooking, since my fridge is almost bare.
“You really are number one in customer service.” She flashes me a wide grin.
A startled laugh slips out of me. “We do our best.”
She disappears into the living room where I’ve set her bag and purse on the sofa. “It looks like it’s all here.” She pulls out her cell phone. “This is deader than a doornail though.”
I pour more batter into the pan. “Do you want to charge it? There are outlets on the side of the island.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m not expecting anyone to worry. But I do need to call the mechanic.”
I frown down at the stove. No one is calling to check on her? She just drove across the state in a snowstorm without telling anyone? “I’ll get you the number. Moe is the owner. He doesn’t usually get in until ten.”
“Thanks.” She slips back onto the stool and reaches for the bacon.
“Quinn, I’m supposed to get notifications and reminders and whatnot of appointments with our new system, right?”
Quinn nods, chewing.
Vivien tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sips her coffee before making an mmm sound.
Don’t think about when else she might make that pleased sound. “I didn’t get any notification for a six o’clock appointment.”
Quinn swallows a bite of food before replying. “It should give you a reminder about ten minutes prior to the appointment time. But I also told you about it last week, and then again three days ago, and again yesterday morning.”
“No, you didn’t. I would have remembered.” I definitely would have remembered the name Vivien Hart coming out of her mouth once, let alone three times, even in her deadpan cadence.
Quinn points her fork at me. “Yesterday, I also told you my neck turned into a rutabaga, and I was having an alien’s baby, and you nodded and asked if Mr. Harris still needed someone to help her program her garage door opener.
You can barely remember the color of your eyes lately, you’re too busy killing yourself running for sainthood. ”
Vivien takes a bite of bacon and chews. “Sainthood?”
Quinn wipes her mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve benefited from your quest for knighthood, but you’re getting less dashing and more haggard by the day.”
I flip a crepe onto Vivien’s plate. It’s better than meeting anyone’s eyes or strangling Quinn. “People ask me for help a lot. It’s no big deal. Things will calm down soon.”
Quinn sighs. “He always says that. Anyway, the new system might have glitched. It keeps disconnecting from the server. That’s why I told you about it.”
Vivien spoons jam into her crepe. “It’s okay. It all worked out.”
“She’s being nice,” I tell Quinn. “Her car broke down, and then Jerry arrested her.”
Quinn raises one brow. “Jerry arrested you? How on earth could you ever believe he’s a real cop?”
“Well, he was in uniform.” She forks a bite of crepe into her mouth.
Quinn’s eyes widen, and she turns to me. “Where did he get a uniform?”
“Some new costume store that apparently sells stripper gear.”
Quinn’s head tilts to one side, considering. “Is that even legal?”
“Impersonating a police officer, or old people stripping?” I turn off the stove.
“Both.”
“The police officer impersonation is a misdemeanor, and false arrest could be a felony. Old people wearing stripper clothes is not illegal, but it is disturbing.”
Quinn shifts closer to Vivien. “Did he have a gun?”
“No, just a flashlight and some fake cuffs. To be fair, I was trying to break into the inn. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
I can’t believe she’s making excuses for Jerry arresting her. She is more forgiving than I would be. Don’t celebrities get upset when people dare ask for autographs in public? He arrested her. Illegally. And she’s already moved on. Or at least taken it in stride.
“How were you going to break in? Smash the glass?” Quinn asks.
Vivien takes a sip of her coffee. “No, I was going to try and pick the lock with my hair clip.”
Quinn nods. “Oh, you did that on your show that one time.”
Vivien smiles, a dazzling flash. “I did. You remember.”
“It was a good episode. You were breaking into the interdimensional high school, while Max and Nick were trapped.”
Vivien laughs. “Good point. Hudson and Whit hated that episode, not because of flawed logic, but because I saved their characters.” She rolls her eyes. “Boys are so dramatic.”
“Especially actors, I imagine.” Quinn pushes her empty plate away.
“You have no idea.”
Quinn hops off her stool. “I have to get to work. Thanks for breakfast, Spence.”
The door shuts, and I’m left alone with Vivien. I focus on cleaning the stove, putting the dirty dishes in the sink, and wiping down the counters while she’s eating. Should I say something? Is this awkward? What do I even talk about? Her show? She probably gets asked about that all the time.
My eyes catch on the letter I set on the counter earlier.
Business. Perfect. I pick it up and set it on the counter in front of her. “Here’s the next letter, whenever you are ready.”
She stares at it, then her gaze lifts to mine. “I can open it now?”
“Of course. Take your time.” I go back over to the sink to wash the dishes while she reads.
The paper rustles, and then the sound is drowned out by the faucet as water gushes out of the tap.
When I’m done, I turn around and find her staring down at the letter, a frown tugging at her lips.
“Everything okay?”
She blinks at me. “Yeah, just a little surprising. Am I allowed to tell you what it says?”
I consider that for a second. “There’s nothing in her instructions that says you can’t,” I answer carefully.
“But it might be better if I stay out of it. I have to act as an objective administrator.” I glance at the clock.
“I can take you to the theater when you’re ready.
Daphne should be there by ten. She’ll be able to show you everything you need to know about managing the theater.
We can leave here in, say, thirty minutes? ”
Vivien nods slowly, her gaze drifting back to the page.
Curiosity tugs at me.
What the hell is in that letter, Beverly?