by Fiona Grace
On the telephone screen, Teddy’s eyes glistened with understanding. “Oh, Ali.”
She nodded with resignation. “Yup.”
“Okay, well I totally understand why you want to distract yourself with a bronzed Australian surfer dude now,” Teddy said.
“Actually…” Ali began. “The date isn’t with Nate.”
Teddy’s eyes pinged all the way open. “Oh? Tell. Me. Everything.”
Ali couldn’t help but smile. “His name is Seth. He’s tall. Dark. Funny. A New Yorker. A hot dog seller.”
“The fried onions!” Teddy cried, recalling their quest the day before to locate the source of the tasty new smell.
“Yes!” Ali replied, with a chuckle. “Seth is Fried Onion Guy. And he seems totally into me for some reason.”
“For some reason?” Teddy repeated, sounding affronted. “Because you’re a catch, sis! A successful businesswoman! A talented pâtissier! A funny, pretty, bubbly, lovely Wonder Woman.”
Ali laughed. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” Teddy said, suddenly serious. “I see you for who you actually are, beyond the insecurities Nate has given you, and the version of yourself Otis made you think you are.”
“Deep,” Ali quipped.
“Deep, and true,” Teddy said. Then he clicked her fingers dismissively. “Right. To work. Show me these outfits.”
Ali hopped off the bed and grabbed the first outfit—a pair of jeans and a scoop-neck red top.
“I was thinking something casual like this?” she said, angling them at the screen for Teddy’s assessment.
“Oh, Ali,” he said reproachfully, shaking his head. “You really do need help. Well, don’t worry. You came to the right guy.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s find you an outfit that will make this Seth guy’s eyes fall right out of his head.”
“Ewww… Teddy,” Ali chuckled.
“And while we’re at it,” he continued, “we should come up with some non-murdery conversation starters.”
*
La Vie En Rose was just as Ali suspected. Candlelit. Elegant. And extremely intimate.
She walked toward the glass entryway, heels clicking on the asphalt, tugging down the hem of her dress. If you could really call it a dress, that was.
On Teddy’s insistence, she was wearing an oversized shirt skillfully turned into a minidress with a black cinch-belt, strappy heels, and delicate jewelry. It was actually one of Delaney’s, a beautiful mustard yellow silk shirt she’d loaned Ali after a particularly boozy night in and an unfortunate mishap with a glass of red wine. Ali had tried to plead the case that turning up to a date in someone else’s clothes was disingenuous, but Teddy was having none of it.
She pulled open the door to the restaurant and almost walked straight into Seth. He was waiting in the foyer, looking dapper in a black suit. Ali felt instantly bewitched by his handsomeness. It was almost enough to make her completely forget someone had just been murdered…
“Wow, Ali,” Seth said, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. “You look fantastic.”
Ali felt a blush warm her cheeks. “Thanks, Seth. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He kissed her on both cheeks. Butterflies took flight in her stomach.
Soft piano music twinkled around the dimly lit restaurant. The walls were a passionate crimson red color, complemented by soft furnishings in cream and gold. It was by far the most upscale place in Willow Bay, and Ali couldn’t help but feel a little out of her depth. She’d only ever worked in upscale restaurants, not eaten in them.
A server came up behind the small wooden podium-style desk. He was an older guy, with deep laugh lines either side of his mouth.
“Do you have a reservation?” he asked, an edge of fatigue in his voice.
Seth answered. “Yes, table for two. Under the name Best.”
The server scanned the reservation book, then nodded and collected two menus. “This way, please.”
Best? Ali thought, as she followed the server’s path through the tables. That basically extinguished Teddy’s first “safe date” question—So tell me, where does your surname originate from? She’d have to skip that one, or risk looking dim.
The server stopped at a small, round table in the corner. It was possibly the most intimate part of the entire restaurant, made even more so by the way the chairs were angled slightly toward one another. They’d had a table set up that way back at Eclairs, Ali recalled. The servers referred to it as the “footsie table,” because of the close proximity the diners had to one another. Ali felt heat rise up her neck.
“Our special this evening is smoked salmon rissoles with watercress salad,” the server announced, presenting an open menu to Ali as she slid into her seat.
Ali’s mouth watered at the thought of it. She loved salmon. But then she remembered Teddy’s advice: If you’re hoping for a kiss, no garlic, no fish. She’d have to get something safer.
Seth took his seat beside her, his knee bumping into hers. Her blush deepened. She buried her face into the menu.
“This evening’s drinks,” the server said, handing a slimmer menu to him. “Our special is a Southern Rhone Shiraz.”
“Sounds excellent,” Seth said, before turning to Ali. “Shall we get a bottle to share?”
“Actually, I prefer white,” Ali said, remembering Teddy’s warning that red wine would stain her teeth. She looked at the server. “A sauvignon. Small. I have to wake up early for work.”
“Um, Ali,” Seth said. “You’re not working tomorrow…remember?”
Ali thought of her beloved bakery under guard by the cops. Her chest sank. “In which case, make it a large,” she told the server.
“I’ll just take a beer,” Seth added.
The server nodded and walked away.
As soon as he was gone, Seth leaned in closer and spoke out the corner of his mouth. “You don’t mind me having a beer, do you? I don’t know the first thing about wine.”
Ali immediately felt herself relax. Seth was out of his depth too.
“I don’t mind at all,” she reassured him.
He nodded and sat back. “So… Sweet?” he said. “That’s a cool surname. Where does it originate from?”
Ali couldn’t help herself. She started to chuckle.
“Sorry, was that a dumb question?” Seth asked, chuckling along with her.
“Not at all,” Ali replied, softly. “It’s a bog-standard English one. Yours is too, I presume? I’ve got to admit, Seth Best is a bit of a tongue-twister.”
He grinned. “It is. But it’s memorable, so it’s stood me in good stead throughout my life.”
“Same,” Ali replied. “No one forgets a Sweet once they’ve met one.”
“You know, meeting you helped inspire the name of my restaurant,” Seth said. “I’m going to call it Best Hot dogs.”
Ali was touched. “How wonderful.”
“Yeah. I put an order in for a sign with the same lady who designed the mascot. She’s a local. Runs a craft store on the boardwalk. Really talented.”
“It wasn’t Delaney, was it?” Ali asked.
“Yes! You know her?”
“She’s my friend,” Ali replied, with a smile. “She made my sign too. And the little macaron mascot man.”
“No way!” Seth said, looking pleased. “She’s ace. She came in to welcome me to the neighborhood and by the time she’d left I had a color scheme, a mascot, and an order for embroidered aprons.”
“She’s great,” Al replied, shifting a little uncomfortably in her friend’s clothes as it dawned on her it made far more sense for Delaney to be the one on a date with Seth than her.
Just then the server returned to the table with their drinks. Only, he was not alone. Coming up with him was a woman in a crisp white dress and cropped, black suit jacket. She had jet black hair in a subtle bouffant style. A gold pin attached to her lapel said: Jennifer, Manager.
“Your wine, madam,” the server said, putting the large glass of
sauvignon in front of Ali. “And your beer.” He placed Seth’s glass of amber liquid down. “Are you ready to order?”
Ali felt disconcerted by the manager standing over them. Maybe the server was in training or something? Or she was doing some kind of quality control exercise?
Ali glanced down at the menu. Prawn linguine. Nope. Seared tuna steak. No. Creamy garlic chicken breast. Nope.
“Meatballs!” she exclaimed, as she finally saw something that checked Teddy’s box. Then she blushed. “For me, please,” she added.
“I think I’ll have… the prawn linguine,” Seth said. “And can I get garlic bread as a side, please?”
Huh, Ali thought. He ordered fish and garlic. Should she take that as a bad sign?
The server jotted down their order. “Very good,” he said, collecting their menus. “And this is our manager, Jennifer,” he finished.
He headed off, leaving the woman behind. Ali exchanged a perplexed look with Seth.
“Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt you for long,” Jennifer said. “I saw you come in and had to introduce myself. You run the bakery, don’t you?”
“That’s right,” Ali said, with an air of caution. It wasn’t like she was usually recognized, and she couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid that the woman had heard the rumors about her, and was about to politely ask her to leave.
“I’m a big fan,” Jennifer continued, immediately turning that theory on its head.
“You are?” Ali asked.
“Yes. I heard about you on Randy Recommends. Your coconut cupcakes are simply divine.”
“Oh!” Ali said, touched. After the day she’d had, she felt primed for bad news. Getting a compliment threw her. “That’s very kind of you to say. And I’m sorry for not recognizing you in return.”
“Not at all,” Jennifer said, flapping a hand. “I usually look much more haggard than this.” She chuckled. “Anyway, the reason I came over is because I was hoping to do a business deal with you. Not now, of course, I can see you’re busy…” She smiled at Seth, then looked back to Ali. “…but I thought I’d just put the feelers out, and see if you’re interested in a conversation at a later date?”
Ali felt her heartbeat start to quicken. When she’d been stressing out about the date back in her bedroom, this was the last thing she’d expected to happen!
“What kind of deal were you thinking of?” she asked.
“Well, your macarons would fit perfectly with the La Vie En Rose theme. We were hoping to add them to the dessert menu.” She removed a card from her pocket and handed it to Ali. “No need to commit to anything now. Just give me a call when you’ve had a chance to think it over. In the meantime, I’ll have some champagne sent over to your table. On the house.”
She turned on her heel and left.
Ali blinked in surprise at the business card. Jennifer Cliff—Restaurant Manager.
“Well,” Seth said with an air of admiration, picking up his beer glass. “A toast to you!”
Ali raised her glass. Oddly enough, she felt a little tipsy even though she’d not had a sip yet. The prospect of a new business opportunity had really lifted her spirits.
She clinked it against Seth’s.
But as she took her first sip, she suddenly felt herself crash back down to reality. What was she thinking? She couldn’t make a business deal when her bakery was closed! While it was an active crime scene! Jennifer Cliff obviously didn’t know about the investigation yet, or the fact that people thought Ali was involved in some way, or she’d never have made the offer in the first place.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked. “Your smile literally fell off your face.”
“I just remembered,” Ali said, setting her wine glass down. “I don’t have a kitchen to make macarons in anymore. I can’t make desserts for La Vie En Rose.”
“Course you can,” Seth said. “Just borrow mine.”
“What?” Ali asked, her eyes widening with surprise. “Are you offering to lend me your kitchen?”
She was stunned. She couldn’t quite make sense of it.
“You start work at five a.m. right?” he asked.
Ali nodded. “Thereabouts.”
“Right. Well, I don’t even start chopping vegetables until eleven! And to be honest, I’m hoping to hire someone else to do that particular task pretty soon. I’m sick of stinking like onions.”
Ali was stunned by what she was hearing. Seth’s offer was beyond generous. Too generous. She herself was extremely possessive of her kitchen. The thought of letting someone borrow it, and use all her special utensils for goodness knows what… it made her squeamish.
“I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s too much.”
“Course you could,” Seth continued. “We’d easily share the space. And it will do you good to focus on something. Not to mention a way to make an income, now everything’s up in the air at your bakery. And if you really want to say thank you, you could chop up the onions for me before you leave!”
Hope blossomed in Ali’s chest. “But don’t you think Jennifer will change her mind once she realizes I’m the…” She stopped herself before she said prime suspect. “…The you know what,” she finished in a whisper.
“She seemed like a smart lady,” Seth replied. “Like she had her head screwed on right. She probably assumed they were rumors, like me.”
Ali bit her lip. “Are you sure? I can be very messy.”
“I’m sure,” Seth assured her.
“So you’re sure you’re sure? Like really, really sure?”
“Yes, I’m really sure!” he exclaimed, a big, encouraging grin on his face.
“Then yes!” Ali cried, throwing her arms around him.
Just then, the server reappeared at their table with a bucket of champagne on ice, and two crystal flutes.
As Ali let go of Seth, she suddenly heard the sound of clapping coming from behind the server. She peered past him and realized that everyone in the restaurant was looking at her and Seth, and applauding. An older couple flashed them adoring eyes, and Ali suddenly realized they weren’t applauding her future business prospect… but because they thought she’d just accepted a marriage proposal! The timing of the champagne delivery had only made it worse!
The applause caught like kindling, going from one table to the next until the whole restaurant—servers and all—was cheering for them.
Ali hunkered down in her seat, her cheeks burning. Seth, meanwhile, took the whole thing with good humor. He stood up, pretending to lap up the applause, and called out to the room, “She said yes!”
A cheer went up.
“Excuse me one moment,” Ali squeaked, unable to take it anymore. “I’m just going to run to the restroom.”
She scurried away, feeling every pair of eyes following her and hearing the deep belly laugh of Seth.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“So how’s it going?” Teddy asked through the phone speaker.
Ali’s heart was still racing with embarrassment as she checked her reflection in the restroom mirror.
“Well, so far I’ve been offered a business deal,” she said, scrubbing a finger against her teeth to remove a minuscule lipstick smudge. “And everyone thinks Seth and I just got engaged. And that’s all before the food’s even arrived.”
“Wow,” Teddy replied, whistling. “I guess my conversation starters really did the trick! And you remembered not to order fish or garlic?”
“I ordered the meatballs.”
“Meatballs!” Teddy yelled. “Ali, are you mad? There’s a whole lot of potential for tomato sauce stainage with meatballs!”
“Ugh,” Ali said. “Then why wasn’t that included in your instructions?”
“I thought it would go without saying,” Teddy replied. “Honestly, sis, you really are rusty. Please tell me you didn’t talk about the murder?”
“No,” Ali said. “And thanks a bunch for reminding me. I’d finally just gotten it off my mind.”
The mid-date pe
p talk Teddy had insisted on her making was going terribly.
“Look, I’d better get back to Seth,” she said. “I kind of abandoned him when everyone started cheering.”
“There was cheering?”
“Cheering. Bowing. Champagne on the house,” Ali replied.
Teddy started to laugh. “Oh, Ali-cat. Thank you for giving me yet another priceless anecdote. I’ll add it to the croissant burning incident.”
“Yes, well, don’t forget about your mishaps,” Ali teased back. “At least I didn’t ruin Cilla Martin’s one of a kind Alexander McQueen dress and get an entire production cancelled.”
“Touché,” Teddy replied.
“I’m going now, okay?” Ali said. “Seth said I can use his kitchen tomorrow morning. I don’t want our date to drag on all night.”
“Wow, you’re sharing a kitchen, too?” Teddy said. “This really is moving fast.”
“Ha. Ha,” Ali replied.
Just then, her phone beeped. There was another call coming in on the other line.
“Teddy, I have to go. Speak later. Bye.”
She hung up on her brother and checked the caller ID. To her shock, it was Detective Elton.
Her stomach churned as she hit the green pick-up button.
“Detective Elton?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Miss Sweet,” came the detective’s commanding voice. “I need you at the bakery.”
Ali’s stomach dropped to her toes. She was in the middle of a date! She couldn’t leave!
“Now?” she squeaked, feeling a sense of dread rise through her.
“Yes. Now,” came Detective Elton’s monosyllabic reply. “Or as soon as possible. You only live five minutes away, don’t you?”
“Well yes,” Ali said, starting to sound flustered. “But I’m not at my house right now.”
“Where are you?” Detective Elton interrogated.
“Nowhere,” Ali mumbled, tugging at the collar of her shirt-dress. The buttons seemed tighter than they’d been before.
“Nowhere? How can you be nowhere?” the detective pressed.