Chapter 4
“Yoo-hoo” pings through the air again as I turn my head to see a mature woman sashaying toward us underneath a mound of teased platinum-blond hair—your guess is as good as mine as to whether her vivid locks are her own or on loan from some woman with a shaved head in Peru. In my opinion, blond hair on black women isn’t always a flattering look, but her golden tresses, like anything that makes Twyla conspicuous, seem to work for her.
As she teeters on three-inch heels in our direction, in a royal blue dress, her face shrouded in heavy makeup, I look past her out the front windows and see that she’s still driving the same ginormous white Cadillac Coupe de Ville from 1970-something that she had when I worked for her. Much like her hair and her clothes... and her shoes, her car screams “notice me!”
“Twyla,” I say, getting up from the table while Russell and Cynthia remain seated. “What a pleasure. It’s been forever. How are you?”
“Hi, darlin’. I’m fantastic.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Busy busy... You know, Dauphine, my volunteer work, trying to stay fit.” She looks me up and down. “I wish I could carry extra weight the way you do. You make it work.”
I swallow and remind myself to let her petty jibe go. “Thank you. I like to think a little thickness takes a few years off.” I scan her from head to toe the same way she did me. “As you get older you can start to look like a bag of bones if you get too skinny.” Okay, so I didn’t exactly let her little barb go. “Let me introduce you to—”
“I know Russell and Cynthia. I dined at the Barbary in New York last year.” She shakes hands with both of them. “You remember me, right?”
“Of course,” confirms Cynthia, but her eyes say she has no recollection of ever meeting her.
“Please have a seat,” I invite.
Twyla pulls out a chair. “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” she says, taking a napkin and sweeping some nonexistent crumbs from the seat before sitting down. “Are the rumors true?” She slides her chair closer to the table. “I heard you were having some money issues and sold out to Cracker Barrel.”
I laugh. “No. Sweet Tea is still all mine.”
“Hmmm... Wonder how that gossip got started. Maybe because Sweet Tea has a similar feel to Cracker Barrel . . . all folksy and informal.”
I’m about to respond when I notice that somewhere during Twyla’s exchange with me, Russell’s eyes lit up. “This is ratings gold,” he says.
“What’s ratings gold?” Twyla asks.
“The two of you. Like Mariah and Nicki behind the American Idol desk.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Twyla says. “I love Halia.” She puts an arm around me. “And there’s plenty to love.”
“That’s because the food is so good here.” I look at her petite figure, up and down. “You have to wonder about the food quality of a restaurant owned by a wisp of a thing.”
Twyla is about to speak when Wavonne reappears at the table, hands everyone a menu, and goes over the evening’s specials: corn and crab chowder, honey-braised pork chops with homemade applesauce, and a blackberry cobbler for dessert.
After Wavonne takes Twyla’s drink order, I ask her to give our guests a few minutes to look over the menu, and once some decisions have been made, Russell starts talking about the show.
“So tomorrow we’ll do a little dog and pony thing at the African American museum. We’ll get some footage of us walking around with the three remaining contestants, and you can get to know them. Then we’ll all meet up in the museum café for lunch and to announce the challenge for this episode. You’ll have a nice break while production assistants take the contestants to the store to get any necessary ingredients for the evening’s competition. We’ll need you at the inn no later than six.”
“The inn?”
“Yes, we’ve been filming all the episodes at my new hotel, the Willow Oak Inn. Sunfish, my latest restaurant, will be on-site there. The lucky winner of this season of Elite Chef will be executive chef there.”
“Trudy had mentioned you were getting into the hotel industry, but she didn’t say we’d be filming at the new property.”
“Of course we’re filming there. Half the reason I do the show is to get my restaurants... and now my hotel, heaps of exposure.”
“Trudy said it was near National Harbor?”
“Yes, not far. It’s a boutique hotel in Fort Washington. It’s on ten secluded acres along the river. Half of the rooms have water views. I had hoped to open something a bit grander, but given the rural preservation ordinances in the area, I could only secure a permit for a smaller venue, so I decided to make the best of it. Thirty rooms on three floors, appointed with the best of everything. I expect five-star ratings all around. We’ll be vying for Four Seasons and Ritz-Carlton clientele. My restaurants have always been destinations and attract people from all over the country. Now customers will be able to make a weekend out of a visit to Sunfish. And, during the week, we’ll cater to smaller conferences.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard anything about it.”
“We’re not officially open yet. The restaurant is a few weeks away from completion, but we’ve had a soft opening of the inn while final touches are added. I’ve invited friends and business associates to stay while we train the staff and finish the build-out... and Cynthia and I and the Elite Chef contestants have been staying there while we film,” Russell says. “You and Twyla are welcome to stay the night as my guests after the taping tomorrow. We tend to go pretty late, and we’d like you on-site the next morning as we see off the eliminated contestant.”
“What a nice invitation, but I don’t live far from Fort Washington, and I generally prefer to sleep in my own bed.”
“Did I hear something about the Willow Oak Inn?” Wavonne says, setting a cast iron skillet filled with sour cream cornbread on the table, before she makes eye contact with me. “And did I hear you turn down an invitation to stay there? For free?” She turns to Russell. “It is free, right?”
“Of course.”
“Have you lost your mind, Halia? That place has been the talk of PG County for months. Word is that it’s gonna be off the chain luxurious. Melva and I have been watching it come up from the marina when we go there for drinks. Looks like it’s almost finished.”
“Off the chain luxurious,” Cynthia says to Russell. “Maybe that should be the inn’s tag line.”
Russell doesn’t appear to be amused by Cynthia’s little quip and doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Instead he looks at Wavonne and says, “Yes, it is almost finished. The rooms on the main floor have been ready for occupancy for weeks—that’s where we’ve been staying, along with the contestants, since we came to town. At this point we’re down to just a few final cosmetic projects in the other rooms and some of the common spaces. We’ll have a grand opening gala once both the inn and the restaurant are fully ready for prime time.”
“Word is the rooms are going to start
