Elizabeth, my sister-in-law, would be here next weekend to help. So would Dana and Danielle. All I had to do was keep my head above water until then.
After scanning the orders briefly for special requests, I handed them back to Liberty. She crossed to the area we’d designated as control central and began sorting the slips into piles. “I heard you were at the theater last night. Are you thinking of auditioning after all?”
Word always travels fast in Paradise, but sometimes the speed of our grapevine still surprises me. “Where did you hear that?”
Liberty shrugged and plunked another sheet into place. “A friend of mine was there to audition. She said she saw you.” Grinning over her shoulder as if she’d caught me trying to hide something, Liberty said, “I guess Vonetta got to you, huh?”
Her smile made me edgy, but only because I’d been trying so hard not to think about last night’s excitement. “I’m not auditioning,” I said, sounding like a broken record. I wasn’t even sure which of us I was trying hardest to convince. “I ran into Richie Bellieu and Dylan Wagstaff on their way to a meeting and decided to tag along to see how things were going.”
Liberty shrugged and turned back to work. “Hey, if you want to be in the play, I say go for it.”
“With all of these orders waiting to be filled?” I shook my head and climbed back onto the stool to search for the flavor oil. “It’s not going to happen.”
“If you say so. I heard that somebody stole some music from Laurence Nichols. Is that true?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it was stolen, but it was missing.”
“My friend said he was really pissed. And she said that Vonetta’s daughter called him an idiot.”
“He was upset,” I said as I moved from one shelf to the next. “But Serena didn’t actually call him an idiot. She was just trying to figure out whether or not he had copies of the missing music. It was no big deal, and it was all over in a second.” Not entirely true, but I saw no reason to mention the argument between Vonetta and Laurence.
Liberty’s eager expression turned into disappointment. “Really? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said. “Sorry.”
She might have pushed harder, but the bell over the front door jangled to signal another customer. Karen was busy with a couple of middle-aged women, so Liberty set the orders aside and scurried into the showroom.
I pulled the first row of bottles out of the cupboard and dug through some that had been buried in the back. It seemed unlikely that I’d put the cinnamon back there, but stranger things had happened.
“Abby? Do you have a minute?”
Startled, I dropped a bottle and almost lost my balance on the step stool. I glanced over my shoulder and found Paisley standing at the counter, looking at me over the half wall that separates the kitchen from the showroom. Her burgundy hair gleamed an odd shade of purple in the sunlight, and her curls corkscrewed away from her head in every direction.
I couldn’t imagine why she needed me, but I nodded and abandoned the search again. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I know you’re busy,” she said with an apologetic smile, “and I hate to interrupt. It’s just . . . well, I’m worried about Vonetta, and I wonder if you know what’s going on with her.”
“With Vonetta?” I shook my head. “I don’t know anything. Sorry.” Maybe I should have let that be the end of it. After all, Paisley does love to talk, and I didn’t want to encourage her to spread rumors. But it would have been rude to turn her away, and besides, Vonetta’s a friend. If there was something wrong, I should care enough to find out what it was.
I motioned Paisley toward the seating area where we could talk without being overheard, and carried two cups of coffee to the table with me. “What are you worried about?” I asked as I put one in front of her.
Paisley wrapped her hands around the warm cup with a grateful sigh. “
After scanning the orders briefly for special requests, I handed them back to Liberty. She crossed to the area we’d designated as control central and began sorting the slips into piles. “I heard you were at the theater last night. Are you thinking of auditioning after all?”
Word always travels fast in Paradise, but sometimes the speed of our grapevine still surprises me. “Where did you hear that?”
Liberty shrugged and plunked another sheet into place. “A friend of mine was there to audition. She said she saw you.” Grinning over her shoulder as if she’d caught me trying to hide something, Liberty said, “I guess Vonetta got to you, huh?”
Her smile made me edgy, but only because I’d been trying so hard not to think about last night’s excitement. “I’m not auditioning,” I said, sounding like a broken record. I wasn’t even sure which of us I was trying hardest to convince. “I ran into Richie Bellieu and Dylan Wagstaff on their way to a meeting and decided to tag along to see how things were going.”
Liberty shrugged and turned back to work. “Hey, if you want to be in the play, I say go for it.”
“With all of these orders waiting to be filled?” I shook my head and climbed back onto the stool to search for the flavor oil. “It’s not going to happen.”
“If you say so. I heard that somebody stole some music from Laurence Nichols. Is that true?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it was stolen, but it was missing.”
“My friend said he was really pissed. And she said that Vonetta’s daughter called him an idiot.”
“He was upset,” I said as I moved from one shelf to the next. “But Serena didn’t actually call him an idiot. She was just trying to figure out whether or not he had copies of the missing music. It was no big deal, and it was all over in a second.” Not entirely true, but I saw no reason to mention the argument between Vonetta and Laurence.
Liberty’s eager expression turned into disappointment. “Really? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said. “Sorry.”
She might have pushed harder, but the bell over the front door jangled to signal another customer. Karen was busy with a couple of middle-aged women, so Liberty set the orders aside and scurried into the showroom.
I pulled the first row of bottles out of the cupboard and dug through some that had been buried in the back. It seemed unlikely that I’d put the cinnamon back there, but stranger things had happened.
“Abby? Do you have a minute?”
Startled, I dropped a bottle and almost lost my balance on the step stool. I glanced over my shoulder and found Paisley standing at the counter, looking at me over the half wall that separates the kitchen from the showroom. Her burgundy hair gleamed an odd shade of purple in the sunlight, and her curls corkscrewed away from her head in every direction.
I couldn’t imagine why she needed me, but I nodded and abandoned the search again. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I know you’re busy,” she said with an apologetic smile, “and I hate to interrupt. It’s just . . . well, I’m worried about Vonetta, and I wonder if you know what’s going on with her.”
“With Vonetta?” I shook my head. “I don’t know anything. Sorry.” Maybe I should have let that be the end of it. After all, Paisley does love to talk, and I didn’t want to encourage her to spread rumors. But it would have been rude to turn her away, and besides, Vonetta’s a friend. If there was something wrong, I should care enough to find out what it was.
I motioned Paisley toward the seating area where we could talk without being overheard, and carried two cups of coffee to the table with me. “What are you worried about?” I asked as I put one in front of her.
Paisley wrapped her hands around the warm cup with a grateful sigh. “
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