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I understand, birdie. I do.
“H-hi,” she stammers, standing abruptly and dropping her phone to the ground.
Frederick swoops down and collects it for her.
“Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” And now she’s looking at him like he’s her knight in shining armor. She fluffs her red hair, and her small nose piercing glints from the sun streaming in through one of the restaurant’s skylights. “How can I help you? Table for …” She glances at me, her eyes dimming slightly. “Two? Or are more joining you?”
“Just the two, thanks.”
I think the girl is going to become a puddle right there on the floor, and who can honestly blame her? Between his good looks and that rumbly voice, it takes a long time being around Frederick Shaw to build up even the tiniest bit of resistance to his charm. Ask me how I know.
“O-okay,” she says as she fumbles the plastic menus she’s taken up from the podium. “Do you prefer indoor or outdoor seating?” She’s still only addressing him. I’m a non-entity. Which is kind of amusing, and refreshing, considering how things normally are.
Frederick glances at me, a question in his gaze. I know he’s probably thinking it will be safer inside, that he can more easily watch over me tucked away in one of the corner booths. And while the inside of the open-concept restaurant is charming, it’s got nothing on the deck and the natural beauty of the outdoors.
“Outside, please,” I say.
He frowns slightly, but nods.
The girl finally looks at me again, then lowers her gaze to the ground. “Follow me,” she mumbles as she walks through the mostly empty dining room to the back door leading out to the patio.
We emerge again into the salt-tinged air, and I’ve got the strongest sense of déjà vu, having just been here this morning. But this time I’m not alone.
And there’s Lucy, once again standing and chatting with the only other customers, a couple around our age. A young boy of around four or five with red hair and the cutest freckles ever runs around the rest of the deck with a foam sword, swinging it (unsuccessfully) at a few seagulls perched on the railing.
The hostess leads us to the table next to the couple. “Does this work?”
Lucy glances up with a smile and a wave. “Hey, guys! So good to see you again. Here, Lynette, I’ve got this.”
“Okay.” Our hostess hands us our menus and scurries away.
“I want to introduce y’all to some friends of mine,” Lucy says, indicating the couple in front of her. “This is Jordan and Marilee.”
Jordan, a well-built bloke with white-blond hair and a golden tan, gives us a friendly wave, as does Marilee, who’s wearing her brown hair up in a messy bun piled on top of her head, stylish black glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, her cheeks dusted with some sort of white powder. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she says. “Lucy was just telling us all about you.”
Hmm, maybe I was right to not trust Lucy. But within seconds, that notion disappears, because I can tell by the friendly smile Marilee flashes me that whatever Lucy said about us was completely innocent and non-malicious. Hmm. I’m not used to that, but it endears me instantly to them all.
“Lovely to meet you both as well,” I reply.
Marilee gestures to the empty spots across the table from them. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”
“Yeah, please sit,” Jordan says.
Beside me, Frederick frowns, opens his mouth—probably to say no. What’s his deal? Is he just grouchy because I sprang all of this on him? He doesn’t like when his job becomes more unpredictable than usual. Probably doesn’t get paid enough for these kinds of shenanigans either. But I know he cares about Topher and Lauren, and if we have any hope of making this wedding a success, we are going to need the locals’ help.
Plus, I love people, and this particular couple seems lovely.
“We’d love to, right, hon?” I say, batting my eyes up at Frederick.
He grunts but follows my lead. “Sure.” Then he pulls out a chair for me, and after I slide in, he plops down beside me.
Lucy says she’ll give us a few minutes and heads back to check on something in the kitchen.
I set my menu down, already knowing that the cheeseburger pictured on the front has my name on it. “I’m afraid to ask what Lucy said about us.”
Frederick is silent, pretending to peruse the menu, though I can tell he’s actually sizing up Jordan and Marilee. Jordan, meanwhile, has his eyes on the boy, who is yelling “Arrr, matey” from somewhere behind me.
Marilee laughs. “Nothing bad, I promise. She just mentioned that there was a foreign couple in town planning a last-minute wedding.”
