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Dev shook his head. “Nope. Even a two-lane state road would have ruined the town’s peace. We’ll just have to figure out some other way to lure the tourists away from that damn resort.”
“A resort which wouldn’t have existed if Merrilton hadn’t actively lobbied for the bypass.”
“Well, they’re welcome to it.” Dev glared at his monitor, where the red numbers splattered across the budget spreadsheet looked like arterial spray. The town was bleeding out in front of his eyes—and on his watch.
“Knock knock?” Sylvia Grande hovered in the doorway in her usual summer uniform of black trousers and crisp white shirt, although her wavy silver hair was more flyaway than usual without her chef’s toque. “Dev, could I have a word?”
Ty rose, ineffectually brushing at his shirt—the fur didn’t budge. “I’ll get out of your way.”
She waved him back into the chair. “No need. It’s not a private word.” She carded her hands through her hair—which probably explained its state. “My student is arriving today.”
Dev buried his wince. Student. Singular. True, the lone student would be paying for lodging in Harrison House, but Dev’s grandfather had started the tradition of charging Sylvia rent on the summer kitchen where she held her classes based on enrollment. When she’d first arrived, fresh from rehab, invited by Grandfather who’d met her soon after her show was cancelled, that was actually a good deal for everyone: The student fees were generous, classes were full for all three sessions—summer, autumn, and spring, since nobody with any sense traveled to Vermont in the winter unless they were rabid skiers. Sylvia turned a nice profit, and Harrison House brought in more than enough for building upkeep and improvements.
But with the advent of so many TV cooking competitions, and the rise of younger, more social media-savvy chefs, nobody remembered Sylvia anymore, secluded as her school was up here in Home.
“Kenny’s dropping a new nightstand off for the student’s room today, but otherwise, everything’s ready.” Dev tried to keep the desperation out of his tone. “Will, um, other students be arriving later?”
She grimaced. “Sorry. He’s the only one.”
“Got it.” Dev ought to be grateful. Until last week, there’d been nobody booked at all.
“I wanted to be here to greet him, but”—she bit her lip—“I really need a meeting.”
Dev braced his hands on the chair arms, ready to stand. “If you need a ride into Merrilton—”
“No, no.” She waved him back down, too. “Pete’s driving me as soon as he finishes mowing the field behind the Inn. But could you look out for him, please? Show him his room? Take him over to the classroom? Since he’s the only student and we’ve got a special curriculum, we’ll be starting classes tomorrow. Oh!” She hauled her giant shoulder bag in front of her and started digging through it. “I need to pick up a couple of frozen ducks at Shaw’s. My supplier didn’t have any fresh duck. I just hope it has time to thaw before we have to bone it.”
“Duck?” Ty asked. “You’ve never asked me to sample duck before, and I always make a point of walking the dogs by the summer kitchen at the end of the day. I didn’t realize it was one of your specialties.”
“It’s not. Where the heck is that— Aha! Gotcha!” She produced her phone with a flourish. Her expression clouded as she keyed something in. “I have to arrange the wine delivery, too.”
“Wine? What gives?” Dev peered at her lowered head and detected a flush on her cheeks. “None of your Summer Kitchen recipes ever involve alcohol.”
“It’s the special curriculum for this student. He has to master specific dishes and many of them involve liquor.” She dropped the phone back in her bag and spread her hands. “Hence, the meeting.”
Dev lowered his brows. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. It’s your school, so you should be able to run it according to your rules.”
She gave him a pitying look. “Dev, my dear, without students, there is no school. I need the money. So do you.”
Dev glanced sidelong at Ty. “I get by just fine.”
She hitched the bag’s strap further onto her shoulder. “Perhaps. But I don’t. I’ll just make sure I attend more meetings this summer.” She winked at Ty. “And hire Ty to do all the tasting for me.”
“Sylvia—”
“If you wouldn’t mind doing me another favor, Dev, could you take a look at the bookcase outside my office? That middle shelf collapsed again.”
Clearly she was evading the issue, but Dev couldn’t really call her on it. He’d become a master of evading lately himself. “No problem.”
“Thank you, dear.” She rounded the desk and dropped a kiss on Dev’s cheek, and then waggled her fingers at Ty as she headed for the door. “I’ll see you later.”
Ty harrumphed as she walked out. “How come you get a kiss and I get a finger wiggle?”
“You get to taste the food.”
Ty’s expression cleared. “Good point. But don’t think I missed that little hedge. What aren’t you telling me about your finances, Devondre?
“I don’t tell you anything about my finances, Tyrese, because they’re none of your business.”
