Read Online Summer at Oyster Bay: A gorgeous feel good summer romance by Jenny Hale - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jenny Hale
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do. It started as an old cotton farm, but Papa let it all go. We’ve also got a horse out back. It’s my horse…”
He looked more rigid than he had the first day they’d met, and she couldn’t figure out why, but she didn’t want to put him on the spot and ask. If he wanted to tell her, he would.
“Let me pour you a glass of juice,” she suggested.
They walked down the hallway into the kitchen and she offered him a seat, the old chair scraping the floor as she pulled it out to urge him to sit. He needed to relax, and she was going to show him how.
“It smells good in here,” he said.
“It’s my gram’s buttermilk biscuit rolls. Would you like one?” She preheated the oven and poured them each a small glass of locally made grape juice.
The windows were still open, letting in the morning breeze. When she set the glass down in front of him, Charlie took a sip. “This is really good.”
“It’s from the fruit and cheese shop down the road.”
He stood up and retrieved the bottle. “Do we serve this for breakfast at Water’s Edge?” he asked, peering down at the label, his brows creased in concentration.
“Not that I know of.”
“Call them. Find out how much they can supply. I want to get this into our restaurant. I can argue with the commission that we’d provide more revenue to local businesses… If I could get the local companies’ backing… In fact, later I’ll make a list of businesses to support. I already have a contract with local builders. It’s the biggest account they’ve ever landed. Let’s get as many voices heard as we can.”
“What’s the name of the builders? I probably know them.”
“T & N Construction.”
“Yeah! That’s Tommy and Nate! They’re good friends from high school. They’ve been building since we were young, and they are fantastic. If anyone needs anything done, they’re the people to call in town.” Emily couldn’t help but smile at this news. “I’m so glad to hear they got the job! Tommy’s wife is expecting their first child. I know because I got an invite to the baby shower. I couldn’t go,” she said, her voice dropping suddenly. “I was working.” She’d been too far away to drive, and she hadn’t come home for it. Now she felt bad, like she should’ve tried harder.
In an effort to keep the thought away, she slipped the biscuits into the oven to warm. When they’d gotten just warm enough to melt the butter, she pulled them out. “Cheese?” she asked.
“However you serve them.”
“I just put butter.” Emily opened the roll and slathered each side with a generous amount of butter. She set the small plate down in front of Charlie, who picked up a biscuit and took a bite.
“Do they have anything like that up north?” she asked.
He shook his head, finishing his bite. “You know, I wonder if we should have local southern fare at the restaurant as well. I hired a chef who grew up here, but I haven’t asked him to cook regional recipes. Wonder if we should. It might make the inn more of a coastal Virginia experience .”
“The chef was on board with the appetizer change we’d made. He’d probably welcome the challenge to create local cuisine.”
“You are a lifesaver. You’ve got me thinking,” he said. “Show me more.”
She was glad he was loosening up a bit. “I will show you more, but right now, you need to slow down, enjoy your biscuit, and have your juice. You’d said yourself, we move more slowly here. I’d like you to get a feel for that. Let’s talk.”
“About what?”
“Anything but business. Did you grow up in New York?”
She noticed his mental struggle to leave the topic at hand, but he recovered quite well. “Yes. I’ve lived in New York and Boston,” he said. Did he ever just sit and talk about nothing in particular?
“What took you to Boston?”
“I attended Harvard.”
Harvard? She wasn’t sure how to relate to that. She’d gone to a state school, taken out student loans, and
He looked more rigid than he had the first day they’d met, and she couldn’t figure out why, but she didn’t want to put him on the spot and ask. If he wanted to tell her, he would.
“Let me pour you a glass of juice,” she suggested.
They walked down the hallway into the kitchen and she offered him a seat, the old chair scraping the floor as she pulled it out to urge him to sit. He needed to relax, and she was going to show him how.
“It smells good in here,” he said.
“It’s my gram’s buttermilk biscuit rolls. Would you like one?” She preheated the oven and poured them each a small glass of locally made grape juice.
The windows were still open, letting in the morning breeze. When she set the glass down in front of him, Charlie took a sip. “This is really good.”
“It’s from the fruit and cheese shop down the road.”
He stood up and retrieved the bottle. “Do we serve this for breakfast at Water’s Edge?” he asked, peering down at the label, his brows creased in concentration.
“Not that I know of.”
“Call them. Find out how much they can supply. I want to get this into our restaurant. I can argue with the commission that we’d provide more revenue to local businesses… If I could get the local companies’ backing… In fact, later I’ll make a list of businesses to support. I already have a contract with local builders. It’s the biggest account they’ve ever landed. Let’s get as many voices heard as we can.”
“What’s the name of the builders? I probably know them.”
“T & N Construction.”
“Yeah! That’s Tommy and Nate! They’re good friends from high school. They’ve been building since we were young, and they are fantastic. If anyone needs anything done, they’re the people to call in town.” Emily couldn’t help but smile at this news. “I’m so glad to hear they got the job! Tommy’s wife is expecting their first child. I know because I got an invite to the baby shower. I couldn’t go,” she said, her voice dropping suddenly. “I was working.” She’d been too far away to drive, and she hadn’t come home for it. Now she felt bad, like she should’ve tried harder.
In an effort to keep the thought away, she slipped the biscuits into the oven to warm. When they’d gotten just warm enough to melt the butter, she pulled them out. “Cheese?” she asked.
“However you serve them.”
“I just put butter.” Emily opened the roll and slathered each side with a generous amount of butter. She set the small plate down in front of Charlie, who picked up a biscuit and took a bite.
“Do they have anything like that up north?” she asked.
He shook his head, finishing his bite. “You know, I wonder if we should have local southern fare at the restaurant as well. I hired a chef who grew up here, but I haven’t asked him to cook regional recipes. Wonder if we should. It might make the inn more of a coastal Virginia experience .”
“The chef was on board with the appetizer change we’d made. He’d probably welcome the challenge to create local cuisine.”
“You are a lifesaver. You’ve got me thinking,” he said. “Show me more.”
She was glad he was loosening up a bit. “I will show you more, but right now, you need to slow down, enjoy your biscuit, and have your juice. You’d said yourself, we move more slowly here. I’d like you to get a feel for that. Let’s talk.”
“About what?”
“Anything but business. Did you grow up in New York?”
She noticed his mental struggle to leave the topic at hand, but he recovered quite well. “Yes. I’ve lived in New York and Boston,” he said. Did he ever just sit and talk about nothing in particular?
“What took you to Boston?”
“I attended Harvard.”
Harvard? She wasn’t sure how to relate to that. She’d gone to a state school, taken out student loans, and
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