Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)

“I’d like to hear you play. God, I’m relaxed,” she realized as they drove into town. “I wasn’t sure what it would take to relax again after the Gold Room.”

He shot her a look of mild surprise. “You’re resilient. I figured that out in five minutes after we met. It’s a very attractive quality.”

He pulled in to park.

Resilient, she thought as she got out of the car.

She’d take it.





Chapter Sixteen



The hostess, who might have been old enough to buy a legal beer, greeted Trey with a quick, flirty smile.

“Heard you were coming in.” She flicked Sonya a look caught between wistful and envious. “With a friend.”

“Sonya, this is Halley.”

“Sonya Poole?”

“MacTavish,” Sonya corrected.

“Right. I meant you’re up at the manor. Wow. Welcome to the Lobster Cage. Your table’s ready.” She picked up two menus, the wine list, then escorted them through the dining area to a corner table for two. “Ian will be your server tonight,” she continued as Trey helped Sonya with her coat. “Enjoy. Oh, Trey, my dad really appreciates your help with the … you know.”

“Give him my best.”

“I will. Ian will be right with you.”

“She’s crushing on you.”

“She’s twenty.”

“And still. She’s a very pretty girl, so you get points for not flirting back.”

“She’s twenty,” Trey repeated.

Their server, short, wiry, with orange-streaked dark hair twisted into a topknot, arrived with a cheerful smile. “Hi, Trey. Welcome, Ms. MacTavish. I’m Ian, and I’ll be taking care of all your culinary hopes and dreams tonight.”

“How’s it going, Ian?”

“Going good.” Grinning, Ian made a check mark in the air with his finger. “Aced it.”

“I never had a doubt.”

“That makes one of us. Can I start you off with drinks? A bottle of water for the table?”

“Wine?” Trey asked Sonya.

“That’s a yes.”

He skimmed down the wine list. “We’ll take a bottle of the sauvignon blanc. If that works?”

“It definitely does.”

He added a bottle of water before Ian walked off.

“So, since you know everybody, what did he ace?”

“Short version. Ian’s dad got sick a couple years ago, so he dropped out of college to come home and help out. Got his degree online, and now he’s working on his masters.”

“In what?”

“Environmental engineering. Ian’s bright and committed.”

“On behalf of planet Earth, I’m grateful. His dad?”

“In remission.”

“That’s good.”

A busser delivered the water, and had a quick word with Trey before Ian brought the wine.

“The lady’ll taste it.”

“Trey tells me you’re working on your masters in environmental engineering.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I did some graphics work for Green Engineering and Environmental in Boston.”

Ian lit up as he drew the cork. “That’s one of the best. Tops my list when I’m ready to send out résumés.”

“When you’re ready, you could let me know. I’ll put in a word.”

His jaw dropped a full inch. “Seriously?”

“I can’t promise it’ll have weight, but it can’t hurt.”

“I—wow. That would be awesome.”

When he poured the wine, she sampled. “And this is perfect.”

Ian ran through the night’s specials, then backed off to give them time.

“First, you made his night. Possibly his month. Second, you’d put in a word for a server you just met?”

“You said he was bright and committed, so he is. He put his family first, which shows loyalty and heart. If we’re going to save the planet, we need the bright, committed, loyal, and plenty of heart.”

“We’re on the same page there.”

“Now, let’s get down to immediate priorities. You eat here all the time. What should I order?”

“I’m thinking the lobster ravioli.”

“I could go with that.”

“No, you can’t. How can I mooch off your plate if you get what I get? And vice versa?”

“I see.” Considering, she perused the menu. “I feel a pull toward the crab-stuffed lobster tails.”

“Surrender to it. You won’t be sorry. You should go with the mashed potato puffs with that. If you want a starter—”

“How am I supposed to eat the main, potato puffs, and the lemon grilled asparagus if I have a starter?”

“Fine. But you need the jalape?o hush puppies. I have to be firm on that.”

“Deal.” She closed her menu. “My plans—loose as they were—included opening a can of tomato soup and making a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“One of my personal staples. I’m a grilled cheese master.”

“Is that right? I’ve never met a grilled cheese master.”

She leaned forward. “Tell me more.”

“Pepper jack cheese, sourdough bread, and chili oil. You’ll thank me later.”

After Ian took their order, she sat back, picked up her wine. “So, lawyer, grilled cheese master, teenage rocker. What else should I know? How about where you studied law?”

“Cambridge.”

On a laugh, she leaned forward again. “You went to Harvard Law?”

“Guilty.”

“I dated a Harvard Law student once for about five minutes. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember.”

“I didn’t think so, because he was full of himself. Which is why the five-minute relationship. If you were full of yourself, you’d have found a way to work in Harvard the first time we met.”

“I dated an artist once. It was more like ten minutes. Inexplicable abstracts and a weird obsession with Virginia Woolf.”

“Definitely wasn’t me. I’m more thrillers, fantasy, and a side of romance where the bad guys get what’s coming to them, the world is saved, and love eventually conquers. I like the spooky, too, but I’m giving that a pass for now. Considering.”

“Probably a good idea. You said you fell asleep reading last night. What were you reading?”

“It wasn’t the book’s fault. We’ll lay it on a long workday and the Gold Room. Rabbit Hole—new author to me. I’ve only just started, but it’s really good.”

“I just read it last week. It’s going to get even better.”

They talked books and ate lobster, segued into movies as Sonya became a passionate fan of the jalape?o hush puppy.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an easy, wide-ranging conversation with a man over a meal.

“That was amazing. Now I have to work out tomorrow, which is totally on you.”

“You’re all right going down to the gym?”

“It’s my house. She’s got one room, and that’s temporary. But it’s my house. I’m thinking of asking Cleo to talk to her grandmother about a juju or mojo or whatever the hell it is.”

“Is that a serious thing?”

“Cleo’s grandmother’s serious about it. I met her when we spent an amazing spring break in New Orleans. She’s fascinating, and spooky. Fascinatingly spooky, not scary spooky. She read my palm, my cards. Tarot.”

“What did your future hold?”

“Some of it’s more a reading into who you are and what you’re looking for. She was pretty damn accurate, but I put that down to her reading people well, and knowing me through Cleo. Then you get to meeting the tall, dark stranger or going on a long sea voyage. And…”

She trailed off as Ian came back with dessert menus.