“I promise we’ll go this weekend.”
Emily was riveted. She’d never been one way with one person and then completely different with another. But Patrick was cold to her and so warm and lovely to this little boy. Why? It was as if someone had turned on a light inside him, a light she hadn’t been able to reach. She didn’t need to reach it—who was she to him? But the difference in him with this boy was enough to pique her curiosity about him to immense levels.
“What are the odds we’d see him here?” Sienna whispered.
But Emily barely heard her.
The worker handed Patrick two large cups with domed lids full of whipped cream, a long spoon coming through the center. “Thank you.” He turned around and stopped in his tracks when he met Emily’s stare.
She offered a little wave.
With a reserved smile—a stark contrast to the one he’d given the boy—he nodded and then took Winston’s hand and moved swiftly toward the exit. “Ready to have some ice cream and then shoot basketballs?” Patrick asked, his entire attention back on the boy as he pushed open the door.
“Rude,” Sienna said. “He’s going to cook for us tonight. The least he could do is come over and say hello. He clearly saw you, Em.”
“Maybe since he was with the little boy, he decided not to mix work and pleasure,” Emily said, although she, too, would’ve liked him to say hello. Had she done or said something that had made him so standoffish? Could that be what he’d told his friend Mark about? She racked her brain for anything he might have taken offense to, but she came up empty. After seeing him with Winston, she had to wonder, though.
“It is kind of a weird situation,” Blair added. “He isn’t even really working for us, but he’s been roped into it. He probably isn’t sure whether to treat us like customers or strangers.”
Perhaps Blair was right; that could very well be the reason for his cold reception. Maybe he didn’t enjoy chatting with tourists. After all, the area seemed like a small town in a lot of ways, and surely every summer the residents were overrun by all the vacationers.
“Hello-o.” Sienna’s hand waved in front of Emily’s view of the door. “Earth to Emily.”
She yanked her attention back to the table.
“You got the hots for Mr. Grumpy?” Sienna asked, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.
“What?” Her face heated. “No, of course not. I was just still wondering why he wasn’t friendlier with us.” She sunk her spoon into the second flavor. “What’s this one?”
“Changing the subject… Subtle.” Sienna snorted.
“I’m not. I’m focusing on us.”
“Fair enough.” Blair tapped the handwritten paper. “This one’s Sunset Sorbet Swirl.”
Emily took a bite, ignoring Sienna’s appraising stare. She should be focused on her two friends and not the chef. They had her back no matter what, and this was their time. Concentratingon that, she fell into conversation with the two people who mattered most.
NINE
By that evening, the sky was a menacing gray, as if all the clouds of the world had banded together in a flat-out refusal of the sun’s appearance. A blanket of dark, looming cloud cover rested above them, not moving, just hanging there as if they wanted to open up and unleash a massive storm at any moment.
“I think this is more than a daily shower,” Sienna said, scrolling the weather app on her phone. “This says the storm’s intensified offshore, and it’s pushing rain this way.”
“Let me see?” Blair leaned over. “Oh gosh, we’re in the red.” She swiped the screen. “It looks like the rain keeps going through tomorrow.”
Sienna grumbled, picked up the remote, and flopped down on the sofa. “Maybe we should eat in here and watch a movie tonight to take our mind off the fact that we get one shot at a millionaire’s beach vacation, and it rains.”
The door chimed.
“I’ll get it.” Emily stood up and went through the lofty corridor to the entrance.
She opened the door to find Patrick holding cooler bags full of ingredients.
“Hi,” he said, coming in with his usual lack of sociability.
“Hello.” She smiled even though he’d already passed her and was heading down the hallway. “What’s for dinner?” she asked, stepping in stride next to him.
“Grilled red Chilean sea bass, truffle parmesan grits, and brown-butter peach cobbler with bourbon vanilla gelato for dessert.”
