The Deeds of the Deceitful Page 4
“VIP?” Cooper laughed. “Friends of a friend of Mindy is more accurate.” She assessed his jeans and flannel shirt. “So, you’re staff?”
“I shall have the privilege of preparing your evening repast.” He bowed low at the waist. “Chef Jon Eason at your service.”
“Nice to meet you.” Cooper paused. “Perhaps you can explain to me why an inn with ten guest rooms has two chefs?”
“An excellent question. Why does the inn have two managers?” He frowned. “Another puzzle.”
“You’re awfully laid-back about the situation.”
“I am. And I intend to stay that way. Mindy and I go back a long way.” He smiled and collected his papers from the copier. “I’m happy to discuss it with you over coffee. Tomorrow morning? Seven? I have obligations in the kitchen, so it will have to be early.”
“Excuse me?” Cooper stammered yet again, taken aback.
“You can pick my brain about the inn. Strictly business.”
Once again, Cooper found herself off-center by the man’s charm. “All right,” she finally said. “I suppose.” She looked up at him again. “Since it is business.”
“Absolutely! Now I’ve got to get back to the kitchen or you and your friends won’t eat tonight.” Before she could change her mind, he winked and disappeared out the door.
Cooper was left with her mouth open, trying to figure out what just happened. She shivered. The last time a handsome man took an unusual interest in her, he ended up being a murderer, and she’d been left feeling like a fool. Head down in thought, she moved to the hallway and nearly ran into Quinton.
“Easy there, girl,” the banker said.
“Sorry, Quinton. I was distracted.”
“So I heard.” He grinned. “Coop, I think he likes you.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t help but overhear. I was wandering around looking for the restroom.” He shrugged. “That big fella. He likes you.”
“No.” Cooper found herself speechless. “Do you really think so?”
“Absolutely, and what’s not to like? You’re smart, nice, and you’re pretty in that all-American way with your blonde hair and one blue eye.”
She smiled at his words. “Thanks, Quinton, but I don’t think I’m ready for . . .” She raised a hand in a gesture. “You know.”
“Trust me, Cooper. I totally get it. I know it takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there. But you’re much too nice to hide in your greenhouse just because it didn’t work out with you and Nathan.”
Cooper stared at Quinton for a moment, processing his words. Was she hiding because she was afraid of failing again?
“You okay, there, Coop?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Quinton, could I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Whatever happened with you and Gloria May? You brought her to Bible study and then she left on a mission trip. You never mentioned it again.”
“Why didn’t you ask, silly girl?”
“I didn’t want to bring it up, in case it was a touchy subject.”
“I guess it sort of was for a while. I penned an awful lot of sappy verse when she left.” He chuckled. “Maybe someday I’ll have a career as a country-western singer.”
“That was it?” Cooper asked.
“That’s all. We just lost touch. Long-distance relationships never work.” He grimaced. “Sorry, Cooper. I didn’t mean . . .”
“It’s all right. You don’t need to tiptoe around me about Nathan. Anyhow, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Cooper said. “And you’re right about long-distance romance.”
“I’ve accepted that she had a greater calling, but I’m glad for the friendship we had.” He shrugged. “Special people don’t come along every day, Cooper. Don’t let fear stand in your way. Or pride. Both of us need to remember that.”
She pondered his words as they continued down the hall. When angry voices floated to them, Cooper froze and put a hand on Quinton’s arm. The two of them stood very still in the hallway.
“You said you’d take care of things.”
“And I will. For now, all you need to know is that things are coming along nicely. So be patient.”
“Patient? I’ve been patient. How much longer?”
“As long as I tell you,” the second woman fairly hissed. “If you push me, then I can assure you that you will regret it.”
Cooper swallowed and turned to Quinton as the voices faded. “What was that all about?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to know,” he said.
They stepped into the foyer, where a fashionably dressed middle-aged woman who bore a slight resemblance to Cruella De Vil, with a white streak in expertly coiffed short dark hair, stood touching up her red lips.
The woman ignored their presence as she held a square compact mirror in one hand and a square tube of cool-toned, glossy red lipstick in the other. The cosmetic cases were black and gold and bore the familiar logo of the same high-end products that Cooper’s sister, Ashley, purchased.
With the snap of the mirror, the woman tucked the cosmetics into her purse. Then she strode across the polished floor, her heels clicking all the way to the entrance, where she slammed the door on her way out.
“Whoa!” Cooper murmured.
“Are there other guests here?” Quinton asked.
“No. Only our group.” Cooper frowned.
“Who do you suppose that was?”
“That was Loretta Atwood.”
Both Cooper and Quinton turned at the receptionist’s trembling voice. “She’s Mindy’s stepmother.”
“Lucky Mindy,” Cooper murmured.
Quinton followed Cooper to the stairs. “That was interesting,” he said. “Who do you think Loretta Atwood was talking to?”
“No idea,” Cooper said with a shiver. “I’m going to go up to my room and wash up.”
“Good plan,” he said. “But I have to tell you that I sure hope I don’t run into either of those women again.”
“I’m with you on that,” Cooper said. She shuddered and shoved away the gut feeling that told her something was amiss at the Atwood Inn.
• • •
“What about those rooms?” Trish asked as the group sat down to dinner. “Some luxury.”
“Speaking of luxury,” Bryant said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but my welcome bag was filled with decadent goodies. I can’t wait to try that mineral mud mask.”
“Mud mask?” Jake’s face reflected horror as he stared at the meteorologist.
“Sure, my pores are very important now that everything is in high definition.”
The brawny plumber held up a palm. “I don’t want to know.”
Cooper scrutinized her friends as they settled. This was definitely an upscale inn, where jackets were de rigueur for the evening meal service. Fortunately, Ashley had reminded her to bring two dresses for the evening meal service, and Cooper had complied. She even rather enjoyed the extra primping, as long as it was a limited engagement. “Everyone looks so nice,” she said.
“We do clean up nicely, don’t we?” Savannah said with a smile.
“Has anyone scheduled a session with the masseuse?” Bryant asked.
“I have,” Trish said. “For tomorrow.”
A massage? Not high on Cooper’s list. Her idea of decadence would be sleeping in and then perusing a gardening catalog. She took a sip of water and turned to Savannah. “How was your room?”
“Heavenly. The duvet was fluffy and soft as can be. I took a short nap, and it was like sleeping on a cloud. When I opened the window, the scent of roses filled the room.”
“Interesting,” Trish said. “Because when we were outside, the gardener, Tony Mancuso, told us that he’d been instructed to remove those roses.”
“Oh, no. Why?” Savannah asked, her face reflecting alarm.
Trish gave a shake of her head. “Loretta Atwood, the co-owner of the inn, is highl
y allergic. I can tell you he was not happy. I’ve never seen someone so angry. His face was nearly purple as he explained the situation to us.”
“I don’t blame him,” Cooper said. “It takes years to cultivate roses. My mother would be heartbroken if she lost her precious bushes.”
“Allergies are serious stuff,” Jake said.
“Serious and scary. Mrs. Atwood has a nut and perfume allergy as well, according to Tony,” Trish said. “My daughter has a nut allergy and carries her epinephrine pen with her everywhere.”
“Still, I don’t see why the roses couldn’t be relocated,” Cooper said.
“Seems a shame, doesn’t it?” Trish added. “Some of them are heritage blooms. Tony told us that Mindy’s mother used to show her roses. There used to be annual tours through her gardens.”
“It’s not for me to judge a woman I don’t know,” Savannah said. “But that certainly does not seem to be sound wisdom.”
“This is so sad. What does Mindy say?” Cooper asked softly.
“Tony said that Mindy has had to pick her battles. The implication was that there had been more than a few battles in the last six months since she lost her father and renovation began.”
“Seems we’ve walked into a family drama,” Jake said with a side glance around the table.
The group was silent for a few moments. The conversation had put a damper on the mood.
Cooper picked up the leather menu holder and scanned the evening meal options as a server refilled their water glasses. When she pulled out the specials insert, her thoughts went to the incident at the copy machine earlier.
Pushing away thoughts of the handsome chef, she focused on the prices listed with the meal offerings. Her jaw nearly dropped. Goodness, if she hadn’t been invited here to evaluate the inn, she probably couldn’t afford more than an appetizer.
“What are you having, Quinton?” she asked her tablemate.
“Angus beef all the way for me,” Quinton answered. He straightened his tie and patted his abdomen.
“Salmon is my favorite,” Trish said.
“What a tantalizing menu,” Bryant murmured.
“Thank you.”
The words had everyone at the table turning to see Chef Jon Eason approaching their table. He wore a white short-sleeve chef’s jacket with his name embroidered on the chest pocket.
Cooper was dismayed to discover he was even more handsome in a starched white jacket than he was a mere few hours ago in flannel.
From behind him, someone else approached the table, also wearing a chef’s jacket.
“Chef Eason,” Cooper said. “I’d like to introduce my friends. Quinton, Jake, Bryant, Trish, and Savannah.”
“My pleasure, and this is Chef Mayberry.”
The female chef, a stocky young woman whose dark hair was pulled back in a low bun, offered a short, stiff bow of acknowledgment without saying a single word. Her face was void of emotion, and her lips were a slash on a face that seemed unable to smile.
“How is it you know Ms. Atwell?” Chef Mayberry asked Cooper. Her beady black eyes inspected each of the guests at the table before finally boring into Cooper.
As the words left the chef’s lips, Cooper’s ears perked. It was one of the women from the hallway who had engaged in the cryptic conversation.
From across the table, Quinton’s gaze met Cooper’s, and his eyes rounded.
“We’re the Sunrise Bible Study from Hope Street Church,” Cooper finally said. “My sister, Ashley, is a college friend of Mindy’s.”
“I see,” Chef Mayberry said, her expression blank. “Excuse me while I return to the kitchen.”
Jon Eason shook his head. “I apologize for Chef Mayberry. She’s not a social being.” He winked at Cooper. “But I am.”
Trish turned to look at Cooper with a knowing smile on her face and her violet eyes wide with surprise. “What do you recommend, Chef?” she asked.
“That’s like asking me which of my children is my favorite,” Jon said. “However, I do have a close affinity for the butternut squash ravioli in sage brown butter sauce.” He narrowed his eyes. “Though the pecan-encrusted salmon is amazing if I do say so. And I do.”
Savannah’s soft laughter rang out at his words. “Now I’m longing for both.”
Jon smiled. “I’ll leave you to your most difficult decisions. Please, don’t hesitate to let the waitstaff know if anything needs attention. Our goal is to make your stay memorable.” His gaze lingered on Cooper before he turned toward the kitchen.
Cooper did her best to concentrate on the menu as her cheeks flooded with warmth.
“You didn’t tell us you’d met a handsome chef,” Trish murmured. “And he’s as good-looking as he is charming.”
“That’s not all,” Quinton said. “Tell them, Coop.”
“We’re having coffee in the morning. Business. To discuss the inn for our report to Mindy.”
Trish’s delighted chuckle filled the air. “Good for you, Cooper. Good for you.”
“Chef Mayberry is as dour as Chef Eason is cheerful,” Jake said.
Savannah leaned forward in her chair. “That woman’s tone was very worrisome,” she said quietly.
Cooper nodded. “I agree.”
A thoughtful silence spread around the table for a minute. Then Quinton reached for his water glass. “I think it’s time for a toast.”
“Hear, hear,” Bryant said, raising his glass too.
“To the Sunrise Bible Study,” Quinton said. “Good friends, good fellowship.”
“And a good God,” Savannah added.
“Here’s to a memorable weekend at Atwood Inn,” Cooper chimed in as she touched her crystal goblet to each of her friend’s glasses.
Chapter Four
“Tell me about your eye, Cooper Lee.” Jon Eason lifted a blue mug with the Atwood Inn logo on the side to his lips and met her gaze across the table.
“I thought we were here to discuss business.” Cooper straightened in her seat and glanced around the empty dining room. She’d been hoping for the cavalry to come to her rescue, but after spending a late evening playing Monopoly, none of the Sunrise Bible Study had come down to breakfast yet. She, too, sipped her coffee, while examining the small bud vase on the table.
“That was a ruse on my part to get you to have coffee with me.”
Cooper sputtered and nearly dropped the mug at his words. “All you had to do was ask.”
“And you would have said yes?”
She paused. Okay, he had her there. Jon Eason was way out of her league, and if it wasn’t for the fact that she was assessing the inn for Mindy as a favor to Ashley, well, she would have run, not walked in the other direction.
Jon nodded thoughtfully. “I thought so.”
“I think you should know that I don’t really date,” Cooper said.
“Coffee. This is coffee and a little twenty questions. We both get to ask them.” He smiled. “I cannot lie, though. I like you, and I’d like to get to know you. You can always use another friend, right?”
Cooper stared at him for a moment. Jon was certainly different than any guy she’d ever met. Quinton’s words from yesterday came back to her. Maybe it was time to set aside her fear, and her pride.
Besides, Jon was right. She could always use another friend.
“Coffee with a friend,” she said with a nod. “That works for me. And this is very good coffee. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was Lamplighter Roasters.”
“A discerning palate. It is Lamplighter. Brava.” A wide grin split his face. “The woman is smart as well as beautiful.”
Cooper knew without a doubt that her neck and face were flaming at his words. She glanced out the window and worked to compose herself. “As for my eye, I had a field hockey accident in junior high. That’s how I ended up with the ocular transplant.”
“Wow. That’s life-changing for an adolescent. How did you cope?”
She stared at him for a moment, flummoxed by his i
nsightful question. No one had ever really understood what it was like to be “different” as a teenager. And having an ocular transplant definitely made her stand out when she preferred to blend into the woodwork. “My father built a greenhouse for me. I guess he realized that I needed a refuge.”
“We all do at times.”
Cooper nodded. Yes, and it was that greenhouse that saved her.
“Tell me about your refuge,” Jon said.
Cooper closed her eyes for a moment and couldn’t help but smile. “It’s six feet by twelve feet. My father saw a kit in a seed catalog and built it himself with redwood. It’s not very big, but I have room for two planting tables and storage shelving against the back wall.”
“Southern exposure?”
“Yes.”
“Glass or polycarbonate?”
“We used upcycled windows from a house that was being torn down.” Cooper narrowed her gaze and studied Jon. “How do you know so much about greenhouses?”
“I’ve done some research. I’m trying to convince Mindy to let me use a little patch of dirt behind the inn for a community garden that guests could help with. It would also provide fresh vegetables for my menu.” He offered a musing smile. “A greenhouse will help us get a jump on the seasonal planting.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Cooper’s eyes lit up.
Jon grinned. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”
“I . . . um . . .” Once again, Cooper found herself flustered. She peeked up at him, not sure what to say now.
“I’m kidding,” he said. “So tell me what’s growing in your greenhouse.”
“Besides the usual suspects, I’ve already planted edibles, and I found a couple of mushroom kits in the catalog, and I’m giving that a go this year.” Just talking about the greenhouse filled Cooper with joy.
“Mushroom fan?”
“Huge fan.”
“I am as well.” He sipped his coffee. “May I borrow a catalog?”
“Sure.”
He leaned closer. “And would you consider helping me if I get the okay from Mindy to proceed?”
“I’d really like that, though my father is the real gardener in the family. He grows vegetables for the food bank, and I contribute to that.”