David cut a piece of his steak. “The steak is grilled exactly how I would make it.”
“Thank you again for inviting me to dinner.”
“And thank you for keeping the Wynn Harbor Inn’s gardens looking like they belong on the cover of a home and garden magazine.”
“I love gardening and flowers.”
The couple chatted about the winter months, celebrating Christmas on New Year’s Eve, Aunt Birdie’s plans for Petoskey Point, the property she’d recently purchased.
“Your sister is finally settling down,” Lottie joked.
“At least for a few months each year. Somehow, I don’t envision her being around all the time. She prefers to flit from place to place.”
“Unlike the two of us, who are perfectly content puttering around the island.”
“We’re two peas in a pod, Lottie.”
“Yes, we are.”
Their eyes met, and David looked away. “I hope you stick around Mackinac Island for a good long time.”
“It’s home,” she simply said. “I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”
The meal ended, and Lottie excused herself to go freshen up. She circled around a trio of tables, making a straight shot toward the women’s restroom.
Halfway there, she glanced at a man seated in a booth facing toward her. He looked familiar, as if she’d seen him before. He casually glanced in her direction, not smiling, not frowning but perhaps merely bored.
She moved past him and strolled into the restroom at the end of a long hall. After taking care of business, she primped in the bathroom mirror. Lottie leaned in, turning her head to the side. “Ugh. Another streak of gray. It seems like I get a new one every day,” she sighed.
A woman exited a bathroom stall—a beautiful woman with jet black hair, wearing a tight-knit red dress, showing off her hourglass figure. It was Cheyenne Clifton. She stepped in front of the sink next to Lottie.
Cheyenne waved her hands under the faucet, casting a side glance in Lottie’s direction. “Hello.”
“Hello.” She offered the woman a tentative smile. “Cheyenne?”
“Yes.”
“I…uh…your parents own this place.”
“They do. Do I know you?”
“Lottie Fletcher. I’m a gardener at the Grand Hotel and Wynn Harbor Inn.”
Cheyenne curled her lip. “Your name sounds vaguely familiar. Are you applying for a server position?”
Lottie could feel warm heat creep up her neck. “No. I’m here having dinner.”
“I see. Well, enjoy your meal.” Cheyenne flounced out of the bathroom, her nose up in the air.
Lottie’s first thought was she’d been snubbed by the snooty Cheyenne Clifton. With a final inspection in the mirror, she trailed behind.
Taking the most direct path, Lottie passed by the booth and the man who looked vaguely familiar. Cheyenne sat across from him.
She pretended not to notice the couple and returned to her seat.
“You look like someone rained on your parade,” David commented.
“I ran into Cheyenne Clifton in the bathroom. She asked me if I was applying for a job.” Lottie tugged on the collar of her silky blouse. “Do I look like I’m applying for a restaurant job?”
