"There's nothing to tell. We're just friends."
She laughed. "The last time afriendlooked at me like that, I ended up marrying him."
"Damn right, baby," James says, giving her a high five.
I sigh. "Okay, later, because it looks like I've got customers."
The rest of the weekend flies past. I sell out and spend the final hours of the festival handing out business cards with my website details and also where people can find me to buy Maple Sky.
By the time I pull up at my parents, I'm exhausted but dying to show them my new winner's rosette. I'm on top of the world and feel like nothing can stop me from taking my business to the next level.
That is until I go inside.
13
Judson
There's been a weird atmosphere in the bar since the panels covering the front of the hostel came down.
Because it's across the street from Vino, it's within eyesight, and naturally, people want to talk about it. What's weird is that people are whispering to each other every time they look over at the newly painted façade.
I don't want to pry, but I'm curious.
My memories of the old hostel are very vague. I just remember it being there and never paying particular attention. I mean, why would I?
"Hey, Oz, mind if I ask you a question?"
Oz finishes pouring a glass of 2011 Château de Mont Pérat for a customer and then joins me.
"What's up?"
"What's the deal with the hostel? Why is everyone whispering as if they're not allowed to talk about it? Have they found out it's haunted or something?"
Oz looks around the bar and then at the door to the kitchen before he turns back to me.
"Nah, it's not haunted…at least, I don't think it is. You know Jax was living there when the place burned down, so I guess it's still a little raw, and people respect both him and Tanner."
I nod. "Yeah, I get it. Do you think it's opening again? It doesn't really look like a hostel. Did it always have that big window at the front?"
"No, I guess they made it bigger. Who knows what's happening," he shrugs.
We each go back to our own thing. Oz is a cool guy. Very chill and easy to talk to.
The cook rings the bell, and because I'm free, I go into the kitchen to check which food order is ready.
Much in the same way I've settled into the job, my relationship with the cook has improved greatly. I apologized for breaking the chef code, and he seems to have forgiven me.
After I brought him a bottle of maple barbecue sauce from the festival, he declared me his best friend. Yup, chefs are that easily bought.
I load the plates on a tray and take them out to the table.
Anita, Noah, and their friends come in as I'm clearing one of the booths.
"Mademoiselle," I say with a flourish, pointing at the clean table.
"Ooh, I could get used to this," she says.
"Thanks, man," Noah says.
