Theodosia twiddled a pen. “Mmn . . . I’d probably have to say . . . potboiler. But a very entertaining and cultured one.”
“Sheesh,” Haley said. Then, “You know, we’ve got a super busy week ahead of us.”
“So we’ve noticed,” Drayton said. “Our Duchess of Devonshire Tea is scheduled for the day after tomorrow and then our Romanov Tea happens on Thursday.”
Haley grinned. “The Romanov Tea that . . . hooray . . . Theodosia is going to promote to high heaven when she appears on Channel Eight.”
“When is your interview scheduled?” Drayton asked.
Theodosia cast a quick glance at her calendar. “Um . . . day after tomorrow. Wednesday afternoon. So right after the Devonshire Tea, but just in the nick of time to publicize our other teas. And it’s not really an interview per se. The station asked me to do a quick tea demo.”
“That sounds like fun,” Haley said.
“Anyway,” Theodosia continued, “after the tea segment they’ve promised me about twenty seconds to promote the two event teas we have on this week’s schedule.”
“Please don’t forget to mention our Full Monty Tea,” Drayton said. This particular themed tea was his own idea and he was constantly fretting over it.
“Twenty seconds doesn’t seem like very much time,” Haley sniffed.
“If we were paying for that media off a rate card,” Theodosia said, “it would cost us a thousand dollars.”
Drayton dusted his hands together. “There you go. Case closed.”
Theodosia thought about Brooke, who was so eager and trusting, placing all her hope in Theodosia to figure out who’d killed her beloved Kaitlin. Was that case closed? No, not by a long shot. In fact, she’d only just gotten started.
? ? ?
“Okay, I’m taking off now,” Haley yelled as she hustled out of the kitchen and raced through Theodosia’s office. She’d pulled on a beaten-up brown leather jacket and had her belongings stashed in a small backpack. Her long blond hair was clipped into a youthful ponytail.
She was almost at the back door when Drayton said, “What on earth is that horrific racket?” He was sitting across from Theodosia’s desk on the overstuffed chair they’d dubbed the tuffet, drinking a cup of tea. Theodosia was basically ignoring him, working on orders and shuffling through invoices that needed to be paid.
Haley grinned at Drayton over her shoulder. “Oh, don’t mind that. It’s just a friend picking me up.”
“He drives a Sherman tank?”
Haley rolled her eyes. “No, Drayton, he has a motorcycle. A Harley-Davidson, if you really must know. And it seems as if you must.”
“Is this another one of your bad-boy boyfriends?” he asked.
“Bad boy . . . ?” Haley stuck a hand on her hip. “Look, he’s a friend, okay?”
“Does this friend have a name?” he asked.
“What are you, my parole officer?”
Drayton had to smile at that one.
“Okay, his name’s Billy Grainger,” Haley said. “And he really is a nice guy. Not a maniac or a crazy person, so I’m perfectly safe. Now. Are you satisfied?”
“Yes,” Drayton said. “Just please take care when you’re clinging to the back of that thing, getting bugs stuck in your teeth.”
“You got it,” Haley said as she dashed out and pulled the door closed behind her.
Drayton stood up and peered out over a white lace curtain. “My, that certainly is a large motorcycle. Must be quite powerful.”
Theodosia glanced up from her desk. She’d been paging through a half-dozen different tea magazine and catalogs, studying the contents. It was time once again to place orders for tins of tea, jams, jellies, and tea knickknacks. “Hmm?” she said. She’d heard Drayton’s good-natured exchange with Haley and something had stirred within her brain. But what was it? She tried to pull it up, but it didn’t want to come. Stayed stuck. Oh well.
Drayton turned and smiled. “I said I hope Haley is wearing a helmet.”
? ? ?
Theodosia lived in an English-style cottage that went by the name of Hazelhurst. It had once been part of the larger estate next door to her. Now it was its own little principality ruled over by Theodosia and her dog, Earl Grey.
Thump, thump, thump.
Earl Grey’s tail beat out a syncopated rhythm on the parquet floor as Theodosia opened the front door. She crouched down as he leapt up and squirted toward her, a bundle of fur driving forward to bury his sleek head in her hands.