“Do you need any help? I’m free tomorrow.”
My eyes widen. “You want to help?”
“Sí.” He nods. “It’s for a good cause, and I owe you for coming to the rescue with Robin.”
I spend a moment studying him. He appears to be sincere in his offer. The old Ava would find a way to politely thank him and refuse his help. But business owner Ava has to be willing to accept assistance whenever it comes my way. Tomorrow is going to be the first time it’s just Vicki and me. We could desperately use another set of hands. If Fernando is there, he could check the clients in, and Vicki could act as my vet tech.
“If you come, it’ll be early. Seven a.m. early,” I warn.
“Early is fine.” He brushes me off. “My normal workday starts at five.”
“Five?” I blanch. “What time do you have to wake up?”
“Three-thirty. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”
And here I thought I had it bad having to get up before seven. “Where do you work that you have to get upthatearly?”
“Order number 144,” a woman calls in a thick Scottish accent.
“That’s us.” Fernando eagerly rushes to the window, ignoring my question.
Fernando and I find a spot under a shady tree and sit as we enjoy our pies.
“I’ve tried hard to bribe Tim into giving me the secret recipe for the Lucky Dog pies, but haven’t had any luck yet.”
“I don’t blame him. It’s a trade secret. Desserts like this are the reason the diner is so popular, and the customers keep returning.” I lick the last bit of filling off my fork. “So good.” I sigh in contentment. “This reminds me of the pie my grandma used to make.”
Her house was a colonial-style home with bright-blue shutters and a matching front door. Whenever she was cooking, she’d leave the front window open. As you approached the house, the smell of a fresh pie or whatever else was in the oven would hit you. “I wonder if my mom still has the recipe,” I muse.
“If she does, wouldyoube willing to share it?” Fernando prods.
“Sure, but there’s not really anything special about it. It’s a recipe that came from one of her favorite cookbooks.”
“That’s even better. It’s been tried and tested.” He finishes his own pie and places the plate on the ground. “If I were to go online, sure, I could find a million different recipes, but sorting through them is like diving blindly into a pool. The only way to see if they’re any good is to test them.”
“You don’t trust the reviews on a site?”
“Nope. I’ve been burned before.”
My body shakes with laughter.
“It’s true. Last year, for instance, I found five different recipes for a basic lemon loaf. They all had a four-star rating or better. I tried them all to see which one was best.”
I picture Fernando working in a kitchen as if he’s conducting a serious science experiment with each recipe. “And? What was wrong with them?”
“They were either too sweet or too artificial tasting. Ask Tim, even he agreed.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t bake.” Suddenly, my phone begins to ring. I fish it out of my purse and see Daph’s nameon the screen. I’m half tempted to ignore it. I’ve been enjoying my time with Fernando and don’t want it to end. But I didmake a promise to her. I reluctantly swipe to answer. “Hi, Daph.”
“Ava! You won’t believe it.” I pull the phone back a half inch from my ear. My sister sounds like a chipmunk with how excited she is. “I found three antique writing desks that are in great shape for cheap! The only thing is, we may have to make a few trips from here to storage.”
Funny, I don’t remember any desks being on the list. This is why Daph keeps having to rent storage units. They’re too crammed full of stuff. She buys things she thinks she’ll use on future projects. At this rate, she’d do better if she rented a small warehouse. “Will they fit in my truck bed?”
“I hope so. One might be a little tight, but I have the trailer we can attach to it at the storage site.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”
“Thanks!”
