The Last Word (4 page)

“And what of Through the Wardrobe?” Rawlings asked nonchalantly, but a twinge at the corner of his mouth betrayed his mistrust. “Bought any books lately?”

“Flynn McNulty and I are just friends. Actually, that term isn’t quite accurate. I’m merely another customer.” Olivia disliked having to defend herself. “Flynn is dating Haviland’s veterinarian, and I’m indebted to her. Without Diane entering the picture, I couldn’t have disentangled myself with such ease.”

Rawlings didn’t look convinced. “When you and Flynn parted ways, I thought it was because of me. I know I wanted you, but you slammed the door on us.” He took a step closer, his face coming out from beneath the shelter of the awning. The sun lit his eyes a feline gold. “I’d kick that damned door right off its hinges if you’d give me the slightest sign—”

“Chief!” A police cruiser paused in the middle of the road and a young officer waved out the open passenger window. “We’re all done with that funeral detail. Want a ride back to the station?”

Without answering, Rawlings turned his gaze back to Olivia.

“Go on,” she whispered. Part of her wanted to escape the heat of the chief’s stare while the rest wanted to be engulfed in the intensity of his desire. Over the winter, she’d denied her hunger for this man, burying it beneath to-do lists and memories of her father’s betrayal.

Resigned, Rawlings gave her a polite nod, scratched Haviland’s neck, and got into the sedan.

“Crap,” Olivia muttered. Haviland whined, sniffing the air where Rawlings had stood. “I know you like him, but it’s not a good time for me to get involved. My life has become too complicated as of late. Case in point, Hudson and company will be showing up at The Boot Top any moment. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

 

 

As always, Haviland was thrilled to enter the restaurant’s kitchen, his nose raised high in the air in search of the source of a dozen mouth-watering smells. He was an obedient dog, however, and knew he was not supposed to linger in the room in which so many tantalizing dishes were prepared. Reluctantly, he trotted to Olivia’s office and sat on his haunches in the center of the doorway, eyes hopeful and mouth open in anticipation.

Michel, The Boot Top’s master chef, was too busy inspecting a baking sheet piled with rows of fresh beef tenderloin to notice the poodle’s beseeching looks.

“A wine reduction for tonight’s beef. We’ll serve it with a medley of spring vegetables. Jeremy?” he called to one of the sous-chefs. “You’re in charge of the asparagus.”

After collecting a bowl of peeled garlic cloves from the walk-in, Michel began sharpening the long blade of a chopping knife, humming merrily all the while.

“You’re quite chipper,” Olivia observed. “The DAR’s monthly social usually has you bent out of shape. You always complain about having to prepare entrees before six o’clock.”

Without glancing away from the cutting board, Michel began to mince garlic. Olivia loved to watch him work. The knife blade became an extension of his hand, flashing as it moved with lighting quickness from left to right, then top to bottom, leaving a mound of perfectly diced garlic on the striated wood of the cutting board.

“It’s my new muse,” Michel stated with a wiggle of his brows. “She inspires me to overlook those blue-blooded hags who force me to begin my workday too early.”

Olivia watched as the pile of garlic grew higher. “A
new
muse? That’s good. For a while there I was genuinely concerned that you’d fallen for Laurel.”

Michel turned his face away. “She is
très magnifique
, your friend, but she is devoted to that miserable husband of hers. If she only knew . . .”

He abruptly scooped the garlic into a metal bowl and walked over to the sous-chef’s station to collect bunches of fresh parsley. He avoided meeting Olivia’s sharp gaze.

“Michel?” Olivia felt a tightening in her muscles. She felt protective of Laurel, even though the young mother of twin boys had begun to exhibit a refreshing amount of grit and determination. Laurel fought a daily battle with her family over the right to continue her work as a writer for the
Oyster Bay Gazette
, and Olivia hated the thought of anyone bringing her friend down. “What were you going to say?”

“That Lovely Laurel doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Michel answered airily. “A man of my skills and my passion comes along once in a lifetime, am I right?”

Olivia laughed, relaxing. “And modest as well.”

The Boot Top’s bartender entered the kitchen. “There’s a Hudson Salter here to see you,” Gabe announced over the din.

Issuing a resigned sigh over having to hold a conversation with her moody and tight-lipped sibling, Olivia followed Gabe through the swinging door and out to the bar area. Hudson was standing with his arms crossed over his lean chest, shifting uncomfortably. Dressed in denim overalls over a faded blue T-shirt, he looked out of place in the sleek, sophisticated room with its polished wood, leather seats, and ochre walls. His wife, Kim, was also ill at ease but disguised it better. She had one hand resting on her swollen belly and the other on the crown of her daughter’s head. Caitlyn hid her face in her mother’s cotton dress and peeked out at Olivia with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Of the three Salters, the little girl interested Olivia the most. As a general rule, she didn’t find children very fascinating, but here before her was a pint-sized human being who shared her DNA.

“Hi,” she said quietly, directing a small smile at the child. “I know someone who will be very pleased to see you again. Do you remember Haviland?”

Caitlyn nodded once.

“Would you like to feed him dinner? He’s waiting very patiently in my office, which is back through that door leading into the kitchen.”

Kim nudged the little girl forward. “Go on, honey. We’ll be right out here.”

Shaking her head, Caitlyn refused to leave her mother’s side.

Unasked, Gabe moved forward and extended his hand. “Maybe I could show you how I make a very special drink for very special kids. It’s called a Shirley Temple. Have you ever had one?”

“No, sir.” Caitlyn’s voice was a whisper.

“I always put an orange slice and
two
cherries in mine. Do you want to help me? I might give you an extra cherry as payment, and you can still see your folks from behind the bar.”

Caitlyn ignored Gabe’s hand, but she did detach herself from Kim and follow the bartender. Olivia felt a rush of pride and affection for Gabe. For a man in his midtwenties, he was skilled at reading people of all ages. With his all-American, surfer-boy good looks and gentle, earnest manner, he charmed everyone he met.

“Can I get you anything?” Olivia asked the Salters, though she knew her offer would be refused. Hudson’s body language proclaimed his desire to escape the upscale atmosphere of the restaurant as soon as possible.

Olivia sympathized with Hudson. He’d spent his entire life on the small island of Okracoke where he and Kim had run a small inn and café. He was a simple man and showed incredible talent in the kitchen, but he hadn’t been exposed to many cultural experiences, and Olivia suspected he often felt inferior to his older half sister.

But Hudson and Olivia had bonded over one thing: the lack of affection shown to them by their late father. Luckily for Hudson, he had a sweet and patient wife and a lovely daughter to keep his heart from hardening, and Olivia hoped that by working together with her brother, she and he would come to truly care for each other.

“We think we found a house today,” Kim said brightly and smiled at her husband. “It’s real cute, but it’ll be strange to not be able to see the sea out the window.”

Olivia nodded. “I remember feeling that way when I lived in my grandmother’s house. It had dozens of rooms and beautiful gardens, but I had a hard time going to sleep because I couldn’t hear the ocean. There was no rhythm without the waves.” She paused. “Do you want to keep looking? I could get you a rental until you find the right place.”

“We can’t afford an ocean view. Ever,” Hudson said grimly. “They’ve all been taken by folks that only live here a few months a year.”

Kim put a placating hand on her husband’s arm. “The view’s not important. Really. What’s important is that there are a bunch of kids in the neighborhood. Caitlyn needs to make friends her own age. She’s been playing with make-believe ones long enough.” Worry creased her brow. “Caitlyn believes she can tell when folks are up to no good.” She put both palms on her belly and rubbed tenderly, as though trying to assure the child she carried that all was well. “Other kids think she’s weird and—”

“Kim, we’re here on business.” Hudson’s dark eyes reminded Olivia so much of her father’s that she nearly flinched. There was a constant spark of wariness deep in both men’s pupils. Apparently, Caitlyn’s odd behavior had touched a nerve in Hudson.

Olivia touched the starfish pendant that had once belonged to her mother and calmly asked her brother if he’d had a chance to work on the menu for The Bayside Crab House.

Food was a topic that brought out the best in Hudson Salter. He was a gifted cook and was as particular and creative as Michel when it came to presentation, the use of fresh ingredients, and unique flavor combinations.

Hudson pulled a sheet of paper from the center pocket of his overalls and shyly handed it to Olivia. For an instant, she longed to grab his hand, to tell him that she understood how difficult it must have been to have spent a lifetime desperate to earn his father’s approval, and that she believed in him, but the moment passed.

She leaned over and studied his menu suggestions.

“I’ve got local suppliers for clam, shrimp, and every fish in the sea, but I don’t have anyone I trust to supply oysters or mussels.” She pointed to the section on the paper listing Hudson’s ideas for raw bar items.

“I’m gonna need to meet your guys,” Hudson said. “No one from the island will cross the channel to bring me so much as a stick of butter. They all think I’m turning my back on my home.”

Olivia dropped her eyes to the menu. “Change is hard on those who leave and on those who are left behind. But you’re going to be a part of a landmark eatery. Both of you. And with these entrees, The Bayside Crab House is going to be packed every night. I love your idea to blend the crab with avocado and pico de gallo. Also, this seafood platter combo that includes scallop scampi, coconut shrimp, snow crab, and a petite lobster tail is sure to be a crowd pleaser.”

Hudson’s expression didn’t change, but Olivia knew the compliment had registered by the way her half brother’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

“Overall, I think this is an excellent menu. We’ll have to add another fishless vegetarian item and a few additional topping options for the burger platters. If we get a patron who doesn’t care for seafood, then at least we can smother that customer’s burger with grilled onions and bacon.” She made a note on Hudson’s paper. “Otherwise, I think we’re ready to print our first menus. Do you want to be involved in the graphic design decisions?”

Hudson shook his head, but Kim raised her hand as though she were in school. “I’d like to help with that. I know our place on Okracoke was nothing fancy and I just ran off our menus on the computer, but I was a pretty good artist once. Since I’m not much use in the kitchen . . .”

“You got that right,” Hudson teased.

Olivia gave her brother a playful shake of her index finger and then looked at Kim. “I’d love to have your assistance. As a matter of fact, I thought I’d leave Hudson in the capable hands of my contractor. He’ll be down at the site. You and Caitlyn can hang out in my office and we’ll go through catalogues, come up with a layout, and then call the printers.”

Kim beamed.

When Olivia and Kim arrived in Olivia’s office, Caitlyn was sipping her drink happily on the floor. Haviland was stretched out alongside the little girl, his head resting on her skinny leg.

“She wants a pet real bad,” Kim whispered to Olivia. “But Hudson’s always said she wasn’t old enough to handle the responsibility. Maybe once we get settled and he has the restaurant to run, he’ll give in.” She reached out and grabbed Olivia’s arm. “He may not speak the words, but we’re grateful to you. We were barely staying afloat, and our house felt strange after Willie died. Now we can have a fresh start.” She glanced at Caitlyn, and worry tugged at the corners of her mouth. “All of us.”

Embarrassed by the compliment, Olivia suggested they get to work. Kim had a talent for drawing and quickly sketched several designs for the menu’s cover. Olivia liked the one featuring Oyster Bay’s lighthouse and harbor in the background with a plump, mischievous-looking crab in the foreground.

“How about a sunset?” Kim asked, tapping her lips with a pencil. “It would make you feel like night’s coming on and there isn’t a better place to be come suppertime than at The Bayside Crab House. Sit out on the deck, listen to live music, and eat the best seafood in town while the sun goes down.”

Buoyed by Kim’s enthusiasm, Olivia agreed to the final design and then searched the computer for additional images and fonts.

While they worked, the noise in the kitchen escalated. Haviland had obviously been fed, as he was no longer gazing at Michel in worship, and Caitlyn was amusing herself by slowly consuming every piece of ice in her glass. Everyone was busy. Olivia felt a sense of deep satisfaction. She loved the sound of people at work.

After scanning Kim’s sketch, Olivia asked her to type up Hudson’s menu items. Once that was done, Olivia would e-mail the document to the printer along with their font choice. Kim readily agreed and began to peck at the keys one finger at a time. Not wanting to hover as Kim worked, Olivia left Haviland with the Salters and walked back out to the bar area.

“Gabe, I believe you’ve added another name to your long list of female admirers. Thank you for being kind to Caitlyn.”