jostled Rosa out of her reverie, and Cy forked over fifty dollars to the beaming attendant. Five thousand minus fifty. Four thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars left to transform a tired old fowl into a regal bird.
Cy handed her a box to carry while he took possession of his hard-won wall sconces. On the way to the car, Rosa’s foot caught on a loose brick that edged the lawn. The box tumbled to the ground as she sprawled on the sidewalk, the heel of her shoe breaking clean off.
Cy helped her up and retrieved the box, which was still mercifully taped shut, and handed it to her. She shook it gently. Glass tinkled inside. “Uh-oh.”
His expression was pained. “It was a stained glass panel. The colors are out of this world. Don’t worry. I can probably fix it.”
With a sigh, Rosa schlepped the box to the car and loaded it into the trunk.
The sun was low in the sky, painting the town in umber and gold as they drove back to the Pelican. This time, she rolled the window down and kissed her hairdo goodbye.
Cy sang to himself, content in the passenger seat, fingers pounding a drum lick on his thighs. She was used to driving everywhere they went. Cy had only been driving for a few short weeks after getting his license when he’d struck a child riding a bike. The child had recovered, Cy had not. He’d never tried driving again. They zoomed along against the backdrop of a spectacular sunset, and Rosa could not help but revel in it.
When they finally traipsed into the inn, the smell of roast chicken greeted them. Baggy was lapping up a bowl of broth and rice.
“Baggy seems to be missing some teeth, so I thought maybe soft foods were the way to go,” Bitsy said, ushering them to the table. Pike was already seated there, looking like the lord of the manor in his clean shirt and jeans. Rosa felt more like a court jester as she furtively attempted to smooth her hair and straighten her blouse, limping to the table on her broken shoe.
“What happened to you?” Pike asked.
She flashed him a snooty look. “It was just some trouble relating to wall sconces.”
He raised an eyebrow and gave her a smile that, she was annoyed to discover, transformed his face from arrogant to breathtakingly handsome.
“I had no idea the decorating business could be so dangerous,” he said.
And the lawyering business is about to take a nasty turn, too, she thought, trying to figure out how to steer the conversation toward his plans for Bitsy’s inn. She decided to do some fishing over the delectable herbed chicken and creamy roasted potatoes.
“I went to see the Great Escapes people today,” she said. “Wanda says hello.”
“Wanda?” Pike frowned as he selected a pillowy roll and passed the basket to Cy. “Oh, red-haired lady. Right.”
“She told me you helped Bitsy prepare the contest materials. That was nice of you.”
Pike nodded. “I’m Bitsy’s lawyer. I created a history of the inn to be used for other purposes, and Bitsy attached it to the entry form.”
Bitsy smiled. “Oh, you’re much more than just my lawyer. You’re my darling nephew, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She shot a look at Rosa. “I can’t figure out why you two never got along. You’re both such angels to me. Here you are, Rosa, with Cy, ready to transform my inn, and Pike has helped me manage the legalities of this old place ever since he finished law school.”
“You could have done it, too, Rosa,” Pike said. “Why did you decide on that career change, by the way?”
She tried to read his expression. Was he baiting her or simply curious? “Never mind.”
“It’s a big job, running a bed-and-breakfast,” Pike said, eyeing Rosa as he spoke. “Too big.”
Rosa put her fork down. Time to take off the gloves. “Are you trying to pressure Bitsy to sell this place? Is that why you don’t want us here?”
“No one is pressuring me to do anything, honey,” Bitsy said, taking a tiny sip of water. “I’m not that pliable. I do what I want to.”
“And you don’t want to sell,” Rosa said. “But Pike thinks you should.”
Pike stared at Rosa and put down his fork. “I’m going to come right out and say it. I think it would be better for her to sell than participate in some cockamamie contest that, at best, will disrupt her life and, at worst, bring in more guests than she can handle.” He sat back. “That’s my position and I’m working toward getting the Pelican sold. With Bitsy’s permission, I might add.”
“Your position is wrong,” Rosa snapped.
“You’ve been here all of three hours and you think you know what’s best for my aunt?”
“Maybe I do,” she retorted.
“You’re not a lawyer, remember?”
“Hang on,” Bitsy said, an offended gleam in her eye. “As far as I can tell, I’m still in the room. I love the Pelican and I want to see her spread her wings again. I’m not a spring chicken, but I’m not dead quite yet.”
Rosa and Pike both started to speak, but Bitsy held up a hand and silenced them. “We will finish out this contest and see where things lie, but in the meantime, I want everyone to try and get along. Is that clear?” She directed a stern, blue-eyed stare at Rosa and Pike.
“Yes, ma’am,” Pike said, after a moment.
Bitsy gave them an impish smile. “I’m not sure that sounded sincere. You’ll both get along for the sake of your cherished aunt, won’t you?”
Rosa sighed, thinking it would probably be easier to negotiate peace in the Middle East.
“For you,” Pike said to Bitsy, “I will try.” He extended a hand to Rosa across the table. “Truce?”
A temporary one. Rosa reluctantly stretched out her own hand and Pike clasped it. His palms should be clammy and soft, she thought. Reptilian, perhaps. Instead, they were strong and warm, sending an electric shock through her body. She pulled her hand away and hastily shoved some chicken into her mouth.
Cy began to happily wolf down every morsel that passed near his plate except for the chicken, which he declined on account of his longstanding vegetarianism. He stopped chewing only for a moment when his phone chirped, indicating a text. “I think it’s from Dad,” he said, consulting the screen, “but it makes no sense. He hasn’t gotten the hang of text speak.”
Pike stiffened. “So what is your old man up to these days? Falsely accusing other families?”
“Pike,” Bitsy warned. “We just agreed to a truce, remember?”
Rosa glared at him. “And I thought we weren’t going to bring up family business.”
“Guilty conscience?”
She dropped her fork with a clatter. “I don’t have anything to feel guilty about, Pike.”
“You agree with your father, then? You think my family and I set out to commit fraud?”
Rosa bit her lip. “I don’t have to agree with him to defend him. He’s my father.”
“Oh, yeah,” Pike said. “And he’s done such a great job in that role. When was the last time you saw him?”
Rosa clamped her mouth closed.
“Too far, Pike,” Cy said, his customary smile gone. “Back off.”
Rosa felt the tears gather. Her brother was her stalwart defender, the only man she could rely on. She abruptly shot to her feet, determined not to let Pike see her cry. “I’ve got plans to sketch,” she said.
Pike half rose as she bolted past, as if he meant to stop her. To apologize? Not