Crazy in Love (8 page)

As he watched her, his eyes dancing, the smirk stayed firmly in place.
“But it’s not what
you
do, though, is it? And your father chose to send you. I find that very… telling.” He stabbed a leaf of his salad with an expression of smug satisfaction, as though he were an ancient hunter taking down a wildebeest for the tribe.

U
gh,
Flynn thought, every part of her body bristling with intense dislike. While Tucker’s researching her and her family had been annoying, Chase’s was outright pissing her off. She sat up straighter, and decided to switch defense for offense.

With this guy, she had a feeling she was going to enjoy taking offense.

“So,” she said, leaning an elbow on the table and her chin into her curled hand, “how do you do it?”

Chase gave her a confused half smile.
“Do what?”

Flynn gestured toward the wait staff and the diners.
“Not care. I mean, everyone here just hates the
shit
out of
you. I can tell. I’m sensitive to those things. But it doesn’t seem to bother you, not even a teensy little bit. Is it because you don’t know that they despise you, or that you don’t care?”

Chase took another sip of his wine.
“People liking or disliking me is of no consequence. I’m a businessman, and some people are not going to like what I do sometimes. If I let it bother me, I lose my advantage.” He leaned forward a bit. “And, just to let you know, I’m more popular in other places.”

“
So, you’re saying the people here have particular reason not to like you?”

Chase eyed her for a long moment, and she sensed that he was evaluating her while forming his answer.
“There’s a man here who thinks I’m responsible for everything that’s gone wrong in this town and in his life, and he’s a very convincing guy. These people like him, so they don’t like me.”

Ah. Tucker.
“Or maybe their disliking you has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you.” She shrugged playfully. “Just a theory.”

Chase paused for a moment, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“You know, some men don’t go for ballbusters, but I don’t happen to be one of them. I like you.”

Flynn grinned.
“I’ve got spunk.”

Chase chuckled, then picked up his wineglass and took another sip. He opened his mouth to
speak again, but coughed lightly into his hand before he could get the words out. His expression went from smarmy and amused to concerned, and his skin seemed to be getting… blotchy.

U
gh.

“
Are you okay?” Flynn asked. She picked up her untouched water and handed it to him.

“
I’m fine,” he choked. His face was turning beet red. Flynn stood up and waved to Nancy.

“
Nancy! Call 911!”

“
No.” Chase held up his hand and stood. “I t
hink
I’m okay. I have a little berry allergy.” A dribble of sweat ran down his face. “Must have been in the wine.”

“
Are there berries in cabernet?”

“
All I need are some antihistamines,” he said, his voice strained.

“
Well, let me see if Annabelle—”

Chase held up his hand.
“No. No, thank you. I think I’d prefer to take care of it myself.” Even with the wheezing and the sweat and the beet red face, he managed to give her one last
tink.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Please excuse me.”

Flynn nodded mutely as Chase took off. A moment later, she heard some scuffling behind her and turned to see a short, round, redheaded woman in a white chef
’s hat running toward her.

“
Oh, no,” the woman said, her face full of false alarm. “I’m too late.” She snapped her fingers and slumped dramatically. “Darn it.”

Flynn raised her eyebrows.
“What happened?”

“
I have a wineglass that I keep raspberries in,” she said, her eyes overwide with blatantly faked innocence. “You know, to snack on during the day. Well, I’d finished them off but I got busy, you know, as chefs do, and I just left it sitting out.” She bit her bottom lip. “I think Gregory must have somehow
accidentally
gotten a hold of that glass and used it for Mr. Chase’s wine.” She leaned in a bit. “He has
that terrible berry allergy, you know.” She leaned back, and Flynn swore she saw the edge of a smile in heir eyes. “I’m so mortified. Was he okay?”

Flynn stared at her.
“Gosh, you know, that was really good, but I think you overplayed the
accidental
angle a little bit.” She put one hand on Mercy’s shoulder and leaned in. “Here’s a tip: don’t over-explain. Innocent people don’t need to explain themselves.”

Mercy eyed her for a moment, then smiled.
“Thanks.”

“
No problem.” Flynn released her shoulder and stood up straight.

Mercy nodded toward the door Gordon Chase had fled out of.
“If it’s any comfort, I knew it wouldn’t kill him.”

“
Actually, that’s quite a comfort, thank you.” Flynn held out her hand. “I’m Flynn Daly.”

The chef wiped her hands on the towel hanging from her apron and shook.
“Hi, Ms. Daly.”

“
Flynn. Please.”

Mercy smiled.
“Flynn. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mercy Glavin.”

“
Mercy.”
Well, now things are beginning to make sense.
“Yes. Jake Tucker told me to talk to you.”

“
He did? What about?”

“
Oh, nothing. He just wanted me to confirm something with you, but I think that’s been taken care of.”

“
Okay.” Mercy grinned. “So, you’ve met Jake, huh? I know I’m biased because he’s my brother, but don’t you think he’s just the cutest thing?”

“
You two are related?” Flynn crossed her arms over her stomach and stared at the chef. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Mercy glanced at her watch.
“It’s only five after twelve.
Why don’t you come back with me? I’ll show you the kitchen, get you a little something to eat before the big meeting. I make a pumpkin risotto’ll pop your head right off.”

Flynn smiled. Did she want to go have some pumpkin risotto made by the woman who
’d poisoned her date?

Eh
. Life was short, anyway. She grabbed her wineglass. “Lead the way.”

Flynn tucked herself in the
corner next to the stove while the kitchen staff whirled around her. She’d tried to introduce herself, but these people were busy, and they held knives, so it wasn’t long before she figured that the best thing she could do was stay out of the way.

“
So, here’s the thing about my brother,” Mercy said, sp
rinkling
a pinch of something into the orangish glop that sizzled in the pan. “He’s kind of a wise-ass.”

“
You don’t say.”

“
He thinks he’s funny and most of the time he is, so that just encourages him.” Mercy grinned sideways at Flynn. “He’s so like my dad. Never say a sincere word when a joke will do.” She picked up a large metal spoon and stirred the concoction. “My mother always says she only married my dad to shut him up, and my dad used to say that’s why he knocked her up with my oldest sister so fast, so that she’d be stuck.”

“
Wow. Your dad sounds like a lot of fun,” Flynn said, trying to imagine her father ever making a joke.

Nope. Couldn
’t do it.

“
He was.” Mercy’s smile turned sad. “He was a safety inspector for OSHA, and he was killed in a piano factory. A baby grand fell on him.”

Flynn wasn
’t sure if Mercy was joking or not, and kept her expression flat. “Wow. I’m really sorry.”

Mercy grinned.
“It’s okay to laugh. Dad would have loved the irony of it. We started making jokes about it at the funeral and we haven’t stopped since. It’s what Dad would have wanted.” Mercy paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, my sisters and my mom and I joke about it. Jake never does.”

There was a long silence as Flynn struggled over what to say. She couldn
’t make light of it, but Mercy would obviously brook no sympathy. So finally she said the only thing she could say.

“
Your brother seems like a really nice guy.” She mostly meant it, and it was worth throwing a compliment Tucker’s way to get out of the awkward conversational spot.

Mercy
’s eyes lit up. “He is, isn’t he? I know he’s my baby brother and everything, but I just think he’s the greatest guy.” She grabbed a spoon from a can full of them, dipped, and tasted. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled through her nose, and then smiled at Flynn.

“
It’s perfect,” she announced, then grabbed a ladle and poured some into a bowl. Flynn took it, along with a clean spoon from the can. She eyed Mercy sideways.

“
You were kidding when you said it would pop my head off, right?”

Mercy leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.
“All I’m gonna say is I take no responsibility for what happens to you.”

Flynn laughed and dipped her spoon in, taking a bite. It was warm a
nd sweet and rich and spicy and…

“
Oh, my
Gooooooooooodddddd
,” she said, going in for another spoonful. “This is amazing.”

“
Told you,” Mercy said smugly. She cocked her head to the side and looked at Flynn. “Would it be inappropriate for me to say that you and my brother would have the most adorable babies?”

Flynn froze mid
-chew, then swallowed. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Mercy smiled and patted Flynn lightly on the shoulder.
“Just an observation.”

***

Jake leaned against the stack of boxes in the corner of the Rose Banquet Room and smiled to himself. The shipping labels read,
Flynn Daly, c/o The Goodhouse Arms.

Ha! He
knew
she had more luggage than that one bag.

It was almost one o
’clock and the room was packed. He did a visual head count and estimated that, aside from a few key restaurant personnel, everyone was here, even people who weren’t on the schedule for today. Proof once again that there was absolutely no one better for spreading news than Annabelle.

“…
got beet red and ran out… face all sweaty and gross,” he heard a woman’s voice saying. He glanced through the crowd and located the source of the voice: Lucy from housekeeping. She was talking closely with another girl he recognized but couldn’t name, and they were giggling happily about Chase’s berry special Goodhouse Arms lunch.

Good ol
’Mercy,
he thought.

A small niggle of guilt—on Flynn
’s behalf, not
Chase’s—poked at him, but he ignored it. Giving her lunch date a case of the berry sweats was all in good fun, but dumping a surprise staff meeting on her was a total dick move. Unfortunately, it was necessary. How Flynn reacted to this thing was going to tell him a lot more about her intentions than he’d ever learn by bugging her over Jameson’s neats at the bar. If she told them all flat-out that she was going to sell, then he’d know his chances of getting her to string Chase along for a while were nil. If she hemmed and hawed, he had a shot. Plus, putting someone in front of a firing squad and seeing which way they duck is always a great form of entertainment.

The door opened, and Flynn walked in, with Mercy trailing close behind.
They shared a grin—interesting—and Mercy dove into the crowd as Flynn made her way up to the front. Something was different about Flynn, though; she wasn’t walking like a little girl in her mother’s heels anymore.

Guess she
’s not feeling too bad about poor Chase and his hives.
Jake smiled to himself.

Flynn stepped up behind the podium set up at the front of the room, and the chatter quieted down. She smoothed her hair behind her ears and smiled her crazy, wide smile and Jake wondered if everyone else was as mesmerized by that grin as he
’d been. He glanced around, saw that the ratio of happy faces to suspicious ones was pretty much in a dead heat. She didn’t have everyone in her corner yet, but considering the circumstances, Flynn was doing pretty damn good.

“
Good afternoon,” Flynn said, and the buzz in the
room died down. She glanced at the back of the room and spoke louder. “Can everyone hear me?”

A chorus to the affirmative came up from the back of the room, but Flynn caught Jake
’s eye and held it until he nodded yes.

“
Good. Thank you for coming to this meeting this afternoon. I’m glad this meeting was called”—she gave Jake a sharp look—“because I… uh… really wanted to introduce myself to you all. Um, as most of you probably already know, my name is Flynn Daly. Esther Goodhouse was my great-aunt, and when she died, she left the Goodhouse Arms to my family.”