could use in unexpected ways. Most recently she’d been collecting old plates and fastening them to various candleholders and other bases to make elegant stacking trays or elevated dishes.
“With luck, word will spread and our tea will really bring in some business when spring hits,” she said. As Cheyenne had mentioned, they’d already noticed a spike. “But we have to get by until then.”
Fortunately, A Room with a View was no longer undercutting her prices. For months after it first opened, the owners—a European couple relatively new to the area—had tried to drive her out of business. They’d finally given up, but she wasn’t under the illusion that they’d backed off out of kindness or compassion. They must not have had deep enough pockets to continue.
Thank God. She couldn’t have hung on much longer. As it was, only the nineteenth-century mystery of Little Mary’s murder, and the rumor that her ghost might be haunting the place, had saved the inn from foreclosure. Unsolved Mysteries had come out to film an episode, and the publicity from that had enabled Eve to continue to pay the mortgage.
“How’s Deb getting on with breakfast?” Cheyenne asked.
Hungover and sleep-deprived, Eve hid a yawn. “She was doing okay when I checked on her a few minutes ago.” Fortunately, their “new” cook had been with them for nearly six months, so she was well accustomed to the demands of the job.
Cheyenne’s chair creaked as she settled in. “I can’t remember—what’s on the menu?” She sniffed. “Whatever it is smells great.”
“Ricotta pancakes with lemon curd and fresh raspberries. A fruit and yogurt parfait with handmade granola. Two sausages and fresh-squeezed orange juice.”
“Oh, right.” Cheyenne gave an exasperated laugh at her forgetfulness. She was the one who’d planned this particular meal; she’d chosen the ricotta pancakes last week. “I take it the taste-test went well yesterday?”
“Those pancakes are delicious!”
“I can’t wait to try them.”
Eve glanced at her watch. “Most of our guests signed up for a nine-thirty breakfast. We should go to the kitchen in another twenty minutes or so to help Deb.” They had only seven rooms, but with such a small staff—three of them to cook, handle the food and clean during the day and two people who traded off as night manager and covered for Eve when she was gone—it could be tricky to get everyone served at once.
“Are most of them eating in the dining room?” Chey asked.
“All but 1 and 5.” Room 1 was the smallest. Located at the back of the inn, it overlooked the garden, arbor and hot tub. Room 5 was their wedding suite, or could be turned into one if they had a bride and groom.
“Maybe we should do a sign-up sheet with two slots for each half hour so that the most we’ll ever serve at one time is—”
The buzz of Cheyenne’s phone interrupted. When she looked down at it and fell silent, Eve twisted around to see why.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Kyle texted me.”
“Where was he this morning?”
“He says he had to give Noelle her spousal maintenance.”
Eve froze at the mention of Noelle. She didn’t want Kyle coming into contact with his ex-wife. Not so soon after last night. She was hoping that, with the passage of time, Noelle might forget what she’d witnessed—or forget to say anything about it. “His spousal maintenance isn’t due until the middle of the month. He’s told us that more than once.”
“She always tries to get it out of him early. That’s why we know when it’s due. We’ve heard him complain that he’s supposed to have until the fifteenth. Anyway, this time she told him the utility company was going to shut off her electricity.”
“He fell for that old trick?”
“Kyle’s a big softie. And he still feels guilty for getting involved with her in the first place.” She took a moment to text him back.
Hoping Cheyenne and Kyle’s conversation would end there, Eve entered a few more checks in her electronic register, but heard Cheyenne say her name a few seconds later.
“Eve?”
She curved her fingernails into her palms. “Yes?”
“Noelle’s been telling Kyle some crazy stuff.”
A knot formed in Eve’s stomach, but she had to answer. “Like what?”
Eve could hear the change in Cheyenne’s voice, even though she wasn’t facing in that direction. “You didn’t go out last night, did you?”
“For a while,” she hedged, and then did what she could to take control of the conversation. “But if Kyle wants to know what I did for my birthday, why isn’t he texting me?”
“He says he tried and got no response. It has him worried.”
After surveying her desk, she realized she must’ve left her phone in her car.
“He wanted to know if you were at coffee this morning. Wants to make sure you’re okay.”
“You can tell him I’m fine.” And to butt out. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen when Cheyenne gave a cry of surprise.
“Noelle is claiming you took some guy home from Sexy Sadie’s!” With her extended abdomen, it was a struggle for Cheyenne to get to her feet. “Is that true?”
Damn Noelle! Eve had suspected she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut, not while she was privy to such a delicious secret. And now that she’d blabbed, everyone in town would hear about Eve’s mistake.
“Is it?” Cheyenne asked.
Letting her breath go in a sigh, Eve stopped pretending to work and turned. “I’m afraid I had a little too much to drink.”
“Who were you with?”
“Jared Somebody.”
“Somebody? You don’t know his last name?”
“We didn’t get that far,” Eve said with a shrug. “It was just a...a quick encounter. He left almost right away.”
“But not before...”
Eve was tempted to lie. But this was Chey. If she couldn’t tell her best friend when she screwed up, who could she tell? “No.”
“Wow, that’s so unlike you.” Eyes wide with shock, she sank back into her seat. “I don’t think you’ve ever done anything like that in your life.”
“I haven’t.”
“What made you do it last night?”
“That’s hard to explain.” She rubbed her temples.
“Give
