Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,73
oven,” he said in a complete deflection from the truth. He didn’t want to tell her he was in a holding pattern until he found out if Miss I’ve Applied for Dozens of Grants in My Lifetime had kicked his ass.
She contemplated the house from their vantage point on the sidewalk. “You’re going to keep doing pizza at the bar, right?”
“I don’t see why not. The oven there is already built. It’s not like I can move it.”
“So maybe don’t do pizza at the restaurant? Keep that the signature food for the bar. You want to make sure people keep patronizing the bar, and bars and pizza kind of go together anyway. Then you can come up with something else for the restaurant?”
That was an interesting take. “I am kind of becoming known for my grilled-cheese sandwiches. I do them outside the bar on presses during town festivals.”
“Perfect. You have a built-in audience, and that’s exactly the kind of food I hear you talking about wanting to serve. Not fussy but capable of being classed up. You can use local cheeses and herbs and stuff.”
“Hey, can I ask you a favor? The restaurant isn’t a secret per se, but I’m trying to keep the news under wraps until it’s a little farther along.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. You want to see the rest of Main Street?”
“Sure.”
They strolled, and he pointed out local landmarks and businesses of note.
“What’s with all the moonflowers?”
“A town tradition. Everyone grows them. There’s a superstition that if you throw one into the lake under a full moon and make a wish, your wish will come true.”
“That is disgustingly charming.” They walked in silence a way until she said, “Speaking of disgustingly charming, is this a florist? What an adorable name.”
They’d stopped in front of A Rose by Any Other Name. “Yeah, it’s…” Maya was in there. That was rare. “This place is owned by the father of the theater director I was telling you about. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
He realized his error when he was halfway through the door. Holden was in there, too. Super close to Maya. In fact, both of them were behind the counter.
“Hi,” Maya said, her brow furrowed—she was confused by his appearance.
“We’re interrupting. You’re running lines.”
“I don’t think it’s called interrupting when you enter a place of business that’s open,” she said.
“Oh, hey, we meet again,” Holden said. “And we’re not running lines.” He grinned.
They weren’t? Then what were they doing huddled so close together?
“Because I have mine all memorized.” He did a little fist pump, and Maya tilted her head and raised her eyebrows slightly, suggesting she might not share Holden’s view on the matter. “High five, Brit!” Holden lifted his hand for Brie to slap.
She looked at him blankly. “It’s Brie.”
“Like the cheese,” Holden said.
“Yes, like the cheese,” Brie said in a deadpan tone. Law liked Brie. He’d made a good move hiring her, even if it freaked him out a little.
She finally took pity on poor Holden, who was standing there with his palm up, still waiting for his high five. After slapping it weakly, she offered the same hand to Maya. “Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Brie.”
“Maya.” Maya darted her gaze back and forth between him and Brie, for God knew what reason.
“I’ve heard all about your theater. Sounds like a cool play you guys are working on.” Brie turned to Holden to include him in the sentiment.
Maya kept doing the eye-darting thing, but eventually her gaze stayed on Law. “Are you looking for my dad? He and my mom are visiting relatives in Brampton today.”
“Oh no, I’m not looking for your dad.”
She blinked. “Was there something you wanted, then?”
He felt dumb, suddenly, for thinking they had the kind of relationship where he could just pop in and say hi. “Yeah, give me two wishing flowers.”
She raised an eyebrow but went to the fridge to get them.
“I thought you said that was for full moons,” Brie said.
“Well, it can’t hurt.” Brie shook her head at him laughingly, and he added, “What? You can’t think of a wish?”
“That will be ten dollars,” Maya said curtly. Clearly she was pissed at him. Or extra pissed, given that “pissed at him” was kind of her baseline, their recent thaw aside.
He wanted to ask if she was still coming tomorrow for soccer. He had Carter opening so he’d have a buffer between when the match ended and when the bar opened. But of course he couldn’t ask her, not with an audience.