Place Setting

by Claudia Mayrant

  Aunt Lucy shook her head. “No, it’s not, but Cameron, do you know how many weddings and luncheons and events I’ve been to at Leighside? I know we’re not exactly spoiled for choice here in town, but it has been a bit done to death—literally, as they have put on quite a few wakes.”

  “Aunt Lucy!” Cam exclaimed, but she just gave him a cheeky wink.

  “That is to say, this barn sounds not just suitable but interesting! If you can get someone artistic like Penny to help with some ideas on gussying it up a bit, I imagine everyone will be lamenting they hadn’t noticed this place first!”

  Those were encouraging words, and the mention of Penny gave Cameron an opening to talk about work, including Penny’s upcoming teaching gig and the conversation he was expecting.

  “It sounds like you’ve given this some good thought.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I have.”

  Aunt Lucy nodded. “You know, for a while, I worried that you might be settling a little, staying put because it was easier or because you felt obligated.”

  Cam tried to jump in, but she held up her hand.

  “It was one reason—among many—that I’m glad I moved here. You needed a chance to make your own life and your decisions about that life, whether it was here or somewhere else. Now, of course, I’m delighted that you’re happy in Summer Corners, Cameron, but most of all, I’m glad you’re doing it because it’s the decision you want to make for yourself. I know life hasn’t always given you a fair shake. Losing your parents so young is hard, and heaven knows being gay in a small Southern town couldn’t have been easy. But you’ve done so well, and I am so proud. I love you.”

  Cameron swallowed around the lump in his throat. His eyes were a little wet. “I love you too, Aunt Lucy.” He leaned in for a hug. He got that, and then a bop between the shoulder blades.

  “Now, you go help that nice young man put on a good shindig.”

  NO MATTER what else was going on around him, working in the kitchen made Gray feel calmer and more positive about everything. The most fun and interesting conversations at parties, in Gray’s experience, were in the kitchen, but he liked being alone there too. Like now, with Dad and Jess not yet home from work and Mom at garden club, Gray had the space to himself to set up his mise en place, which he always did, even for simple meals, because he could let his mind wander as his hands gathered, measured, and chopped on autopilot.

  His mind had a lot of wandering to do. There was Jess’s wedding, first of all. He’d need help if he was going to make all the food. If Patsy’s cafe and Leighside were closed, then there were probably kitchen staff and servers up for a gig and, well, possibly more.

  He hadn’t told his parents everything about the breakup with Matt. Beyond the cheating and the failure to work things out regarding the restaurant, he’d not gotten into the details. He definitely hadn’t told them that between the money he’d saved toward opening a new place and the amount he’d gotten from Matt buying him out of the restaurant, he had enough to start something—maybe not a whole new restaurant, especially not one somewhere expensive like downtown Charleston like he and Matt had dreamed of, but something, a cafe or a food truck even. A stall at a market or maybe, now that there seemed to be a need for one in town, a catering or event business. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t be supportive, but Mom would worry that the money was burning a hole in his pocket, as she liked to say, and Dad would be a little overbearing with helpful suggestions. Gray wasn’t ready for that; he’d planned to spend some time with his family and let a plan develop slowly, maybe go work in someone else’s restaurant for a while. Now it seemed like with the Leightons’ debacle there might be an opportunity, if only he could find the right spot.

  If Cameron could find him the right spot.

  Cameron was a pleasant surprise—more than pleasant. One thing he hadn’t been looking for when he came home, would have laughed if anyone had suggested it, was to meet someone. He hadn’t even had the time or energy to think about finding a hookup, much less something that could be more. He definitely would enjoy the former with Cameron, but the latter could be a possibility too.

  Dad arriving home interrupted that train of thought, followed by Jess and Mom, who immediately began making the usual round of gin and tonics, Jess’s light on the gin, Gray’s heavy on the lime, just like they liked. It was a comfort of home, and one Gray hadn’t realized he missed, being surrounded by people who knew you and what you liked, and cared enough to enjoy it with you.

  It made him think of Cameron again and how Cameron had the potential to be part of that too.

  Gray hoped he would be, but Gray had another commitment, too, one he was mostly optimistic about meeting. The food he could do, and he could probably find the kitchen and serving staff. He hoped Cameron would come through with a location. The one thing he couldn’t do on his own, he could call in a favor for.

  He excused himself after dinner: “Phone call. Wedding stuff.” It was early enough that Devante would still be up, since pastry chefs were early rising. Gray mentally congratulated himself on the pun, wondering if Devante had heard it before.

  “Oh man, that is terrible and old,” Devante groaned at him a few minutes later. “Stick to the food, Grayson.”

  “I promise, if I can ask you a favor in the form of a brief and interesting South Carolina vacation.” Gray used his smarmiest tone, the one he used when playing I-know-that-you-know-that-I-know-you’re-a-critic-in-a-bad-disguise.

  “Aw, this is gonna be good. What’re you offering?”

  “Transportation, lodging, groceries, and a generous stipend to make wedding and groom’s cakes for two hundred of my sister’s nearest and dearest.”

  “Dude, what have you gotten yourself into?”

  Gray explained the whole thing, minus the Cameron angle because he was going to put off getting teased as long as possible.

  “Grayson Callahan, wedding expert. That is crazy enough to work. Count me in, as long as there is no Confederate crap. I did that shit when I was young and poor enough to not turn down gigs, but never again.”

  “I promise absolutely, positively no Confederate-related festivities.” Gray could guarantee that, at least.

  “An offer I can’t refuse. When do I book my flight?”

  When that was taken care of, he went back downstairs to tell Jess the good news. He found her on the screen porch, sitting in a rocking chair, feet curled under her, face pressed against her phone.

  He stepped out to join her when he heard “Love you too. See you tomorrow,” and she set down her phone.

  “How’s the fiancé?” Gray pulled a chair up close to hers.

  “Good, especially after I told him you were on the case.”

  “Pfft.” Gray rolled his eyes. “Hope his faith isn’t misplaced, but I do have a few leads.” He gave her the good news about Devante and his hope for finding a space soon.

  “No rush. The invitations are long gone; we’ll be sending emails and making calls the day before. Doug’s brother even suggested putting up a sign the day of at the end of the Leighside driveway, though I don’t know if I trust him not to make it aggressively snarky at the Leightons’ expense. We’ll manage.”

  Gray raised his eyebrow, suspicious. “Are you really that chill about all this, or did Mom give you something extra in your G and T?”

  Jess huffed, making her bangs flutter over her forehead. “A little of column A, a little of column B, but mostly Doug. Always manages to walk me back from the panic ledge and make me see the big picture.”

  “You got a good one, Jess. The spouse is what matters. The wedding’s just a party.”

  “That’s what Doug said. And Mom.”

  “And Dad?”

  “Dad said a good man deserves a good party.”

  Gray had to laugh. That was a very Dad thing to say. “Let’s not disappoint him, then.”

  THE NEXT morning Gray found himself at loose ends. It was strange having no job to go to, no plans to make for feeding
staff and customers, and no one making demands of his time. It was too early to reasonably expect to hear from Cameron even if he was Cameron’s top priority, which was wishful thinking. He could, however, get the ball rolling on the who part of the equation, if not the where, and for that he needed to find where the cafe staff had scattered. He started at the diner because he needed something else as much as information: coffee. Gray had remembered to buy beans but forgotten to check that the cottage had a grinder (it didn’t) or filters for the little two-cup maker (nor those), and going to get a cup of simple but strong joe was a good idea, even if that was the only thing he got. But it wasn’t.

  “Missy! Jason! Some guy’s here to see y’all, asking about Patsy’s,” the woman at the register called back through the window to the kitchen.

  A moment later a young black woman wearing stunning makeup and a skinny redheaded guy with equally colorful tattoos emerged from the kitchen. The young woman, whose name tag read Missy, gestured to the back booth.

  “You another detective?” the guy asked. His demeanor exuded indifference.

  His coworker added, “I’m sorry we can’t tell you more. Jason and I were off the day of the raid. We carpool up to Coastal Tech on Mondays.” Missy shrugged, but her expression was apologetic.

  “She’s in American Regional Cuisine, but I got Intro to Pastry. Two missed classes and you fail.” Jason added in a drawl, “And I ain’t good enough with pâte à choux to even miss one right now.” He pronounced it pat-AY ah chews, but the words were like music to Gray’s ears.

  “You’re in cooking school?” he asked, not quite believing he’d heard right.

  Missy’s expression sharpened and she tilted her head before she spoke, like she had sized Gray up and found him wanting. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yes,” Gray started, but quickly corrected himself. “No! I mean, not hard to believe except for the fact that I’m looking for some people to cook. For a gig. Possibly more than one, and I can’t believe I found two of you at one time.”

  “You are definitely not a detective.” Missy began to smile slightly.

  “No, ma’am. I’m a chef, and I am in need of a lot of help.”

  Gray gave the abbreviated saga of how the Leightons’ criminal activities had led to his sister’s wedding predicament, his desperate attempt to find kitchen and service help at a place to be determined and a rate that Gray thought would be fair but was apparently exorbitant given Jason’s exclamation at hearing it. Oh well, Gray was apparently paying Philly wages for Summer Corners, but honestly, he couldn’t think of a better use. He’d been a crappily underpaid line cook and catering runner before. Might as well pay it forward. After they’d signed on, Missy even got out her phone and tapped away.

  “Group text.” She glanced up at Gray as Jason went back to the kitchen after someone in the back bellowed for him. “Let me see who else I can drum up for you. And don’t listen to Jason, the way he talks about himself. He is from way up in the sticks and probably didn’t eat anything fancier than Wonder Bread until he was sixteen, but he has a gift with dessert.”

  “And you?” Gray got the feeling she wouldn’t easily brag on herself without prompting.

  “Meat, if you can believe it. When people look at him and me together and try to guess who can butcher a pig and who can make an angel food cake that floats off the table, well… they usually guess wrong.”

  Gray loved her confidence and the way she and Jason defied stereotypes. That was still a problem in the restaurant world. “Neither of you seems like anyone I want to underestimate, and I definitely want to work with you both.”

  Missy stuck out her hand. “Pleasure doing business. And if you’ll text me your number, I’ll send you to your next stop.”

  Thanks to Missy, Gray caught up with prep cook Edgar at a construction site where his brother’s food truck was set up for the day. He also got amazing tacos de lengua, as well as numbers for a few of Edgar’s friends, who had experience in front and back of the house. He then went on to find the bubbly Velma, who looked like a Dolly Parton impersonator but proudly showed him with a little twirl how at her age, which Gray guessed was north of fifty, she could serve and bus tables in her four-inch red platforms. Velma promised to reach out to her sister, too, so by late afternoon, Gray had the better part of a team assembled.

  He almost didn’t want to check his voicemail in case there was bad news to bring him down, but the first was only Jess reminding him that Doug and his parents were joining them for dinner at the golf club. The second was even better.

  “Hi, Gray, it’s Cam Dunlop. I have some good news for you, or I think it’s good news. Give me a call when you can and I’ll tell you what I found. Thanks… um, I look forward to talking. About the place. Um. Okay, bye.” Gray could practically see the blush that went with that stammer. He bet it looked cute with Cameron’s freckles.

  He called back, then texted when he didn’t get an answer because he didn’t trust his mouth not to leave an embarrassing message.

  Hi Cam. Got your voicemail. Sounds great. When are you free to talk? I’m on my way to a family thing.

  That was mostly true. He wasn’t due home until six, but he didn’t want to have to rush.

  Sorry. On hold at the office with a plumber for a building. What time is your thing over? I’ve got some news.

  Gray smiled at his phone before tapping out, Not late. Text you when I’m done. Can’t wait.:)

  Chapter 4

  CAMERON FELT like a character in a teen TV drama, unlocking his phone every two minutes just in case, by some technical glitch, his notifications had stopped.

  “Way to be reasonable.” Cameron flopped back on his couch. “Getting wound up over an old crush who’s just being nice because of real estate. There are other fish in the sea.” He turned on the TV. A man in a plaid shirt was talking about the challenges of fly-fishing. Cam snorted at the irony. He flipped channels until his phone rang, surprising him so much he nearly dropped it on the floor.

  “Hello,” he managed, half off the couch.

  “It’s Gray.” His voice sounded warm, which was maybe a silly thing to think, but Cam thought it anyway. He tried to hold the phone closer, which just smushed his cheek into the screen. Smooth.

  “Hey, have a good time with the family?”

  They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Gray liked his future in-laws and was glad no one was freaking out about the wedding, at least not in front of him.

  “No need for anyone to freak. I think I have a location for you,” Cam said.

  “Already? That was fast.” Gray sounded impressed. “You’re fantastic! When can I see it?”

  Cameron almost told him anytime tomorrow would be fine, but Gray’s compliment prompted him to make another suggestion. “If you’re free, we can go have a look tonight if you want.”

  “I am free and I do want,” Gray said. Cameron wondered if he was imagining something flirty in his tone. When Gray added, “That is, if you don’t mind being out after hours,” Cameron was sure of it.

  Cameron grinned. “After-hours personal attention is just one of the many fine services we offer to our best clients.”

  “Glad to hear it. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

  ONE OF the drawbacks of town living, Cameron reflected, was that there was never a good excuse to not be anywhere in ten minutes, like bad traffic or getting lost. As he flailed around his bathroom deciding whether to brush his teeth (definitely), freshen up his deodorant (obviously), or splash on some aftershave (nope, too obvious), he thought he might be able to get away with the old “got stopped at the train tracks” if Gray didn’t remember where the tracks were.

  Probably not a good bet.

  He also took the time to change from his work polo and khakis to a slim-fitting tee and shorts so Gray could see him wearing something other than business casual, which was a great look for I can assist with your real estate needs but less good for oh, so we find our
selves alone in the dark, what a coincidence.

  When Cam pulled up to the barn, Gray’s SUV was already parked in the clearing. There were a few security lights outside, but the inside was still dark except for the glow of a flashlight. As Cameron approached, feet crunching on the gravel, he almost wished the power wasn’t on, then mentally chided himself for thinking like a horny creeper and not a helpful professional.

  “Cameron.” Gray was turned away from him, but Cameron could tell by his voice that he was pleased. He liked hearing his name said that way.

  “But wait, there’s more.” Cameron stepped inside to flip the light switch, illuminating the interior.

  Gray gasped. “It has electricity!”

  “And it’s plumbed.”

  Gray turned around. “This is amazing, Cam! It’s got everything. Accessibility. Plenty of room for chairs, for a dance floor. If there’s a place to do food prep—”

  “Keep going, you’ll see it.” Cameron stayed back as Gray explored, enjoying watching his delight as he remarked on the barn, murmuring about the charm, the space, the prep space.

  “This is perfect!” Gray came back into the main room. “So, give me the bad news: What is it going to cost, and is it more than the golf club?”

  That was Cameron’s cue to share the best part. “One dollar.”

  Gray rolled his eyes. “Come on, no way.”

  “Way, and I can prove it. Come on out to the car.”

  Gray followed him out, then got in when Cameron opened the door for him. Cameron walked around, reached into the back seat for the oversized envelope, and sat down in the driver’s seat after handing it over.

  “Some docs from the owner.”

  Gray unfolded the papers, looked at the description and specs, then found the letter inside.

  “This is… the Parrys own this… and they’re renting for one weekend, Friday to Sunday, in the amount of one dollar… with an option to buy… terms to be determined…. Oh, wow. Cameron. Holy shi—wow.” He turned to stare at Cameron, mouth half-open in surprise, which was pretty awesome and oddly endearing.