My ears go hot. “Vivien, this is Quinn. You spoke on the phone last week, I believe. Vivien, feel free to ignore everything that comes out of her mouth.”
“Right. Hi, Quinn, it’s nice to meet you. I love your name.” Vivien stops at the island next to Quinn.
“My mom named me after a character on some old TV show because she wanted me to be a teen mom. And a blond cheerleader.”
Vivien blinks. “What?”
“I’m a continual disappointment. Would you like a crepe? Maybe some bacon?” She motions to the plate I have set up on the counter.
“It smells great. I’m starved.” She smothers a yawn.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask. “There’s a fresh pot behind me.”
“Thanks. Coffee sounds amazing.” Vivien makes her way over to the coffee pot.
I focus on cooking, intensely aware of her presence behind me.
Quinn clears her throat. “Just so you know, this is all totally normal behavior. We do breakfast here all the time. Spencer is a great chef.”
I scoop the crepe and plop it on Quinn’s plate. If she eats, she can’t speak. “Here. Eat up.”
“Thanks, best boss ever.” Quinn swipes up her fork and reaches for the strawberry jelly.
I point my spatula toward the living room. “Vivien, your bag and things are in there. I called Noah this morning, and he dropped them off before going to school.”
Her mouth falls open. “Really? That’s incredible. I can’t believe you did that.”
Quinn snorts around a mouthful of food. “I can.”
I ignore Quinn and keep focus on Vivien. “You should check that everything is there. Not because Noah would steal, but because he’s a teenage boy and might have only handed me half your things.”
I’m not going to mention how I paid him a considerable amount, both to bring the items here on his way to school and to purchase the breakfast items I’m currently cooking, since my fridge is almost bare.
“You really are number one in customer service.” She flashes me a wide grin.
A startled laugh slips out of me. “We do our best.”
She disappears into the living room where I’ve set her bag and purse on the sofa. “It looks like it’s all here.” She pulls out her cell phone. “This is deader than a doornail though.”
I pour more batter into the pan. “Do you want to charge it? There are outlets on the side of the island.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m not expecting anyone to worry. But I do need to call the mechanic.”
I frown down at the stove. No one is calling to check on her? She just drove across the state in a snowstorm without telling anyone? “I’ll get you the number. Moe is the owner. He doesn’t usually get in until ten.”
“Thanks.” She slips back onto the stool and reaches for the bacon.
“Quinn, I’m supposed to get notifications and reminders and whatnot of appointments with our new system, right?”
Quinn nods, chewing.
Vivien tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sips her coffee before making an mmm sound.
Don’t think about when else she might make that pleased sound. “I didn’t get any notification for a six o’clock appointment.”
Quinn swallows a bite of food before replying. “It should give you a reminder about ten minutes prior to the appointment time. But I also told you about it last week, and then again three days ago, and again yesterday morning.”
“No, you didn’t. I would have remembered.” I definitely would have remembered the name Vivien Hart coming out of her mouth once, let alone three times, even in her deadpan cadence.
