I’m really happy to be here. This is honestly my dream job.
Ok, it’s a compromise on my dream job. I think my catering business really only stays afloat because of the partnership with Aconite Ales. And I have been low-key renovating a rundown little cottage in western Massachusetts, and yeah, technically, I’m renting it right now, but I’ve been talking to the landlord about buying it when I can afford the down payment. It doesn’t sound like a dream house, but really, I wasn’t going to be able to break into the housing market for anything less than nearly condemned.
If I’d asked myself ten years ago what I’d be doing now, never in my wildest dreams would I be living as good as this.
Or at least, I thought my wildest dreams would involve something other than a sexually charged chase through the woods.
Most Wednesdays, I head over to Aconite Ales with a number of trays full of prepped food. Mystic Falls has some small tourist industry, and both tourists and locals like to visit the front end of the brewery where they hold little wine tastings, and I make a bunch of hors d’oeuvres that pair with the different brews. Sometimes, when there are bigger events, I get to cater company lunches or engagement parties. It pays to be local, though not a lot. But I’m proud of my small business, no matter how many business cards I put up on the front desk that guests always take and never call.
Today though, my boss has another contract for me. One of her sons is getting married, and she wants me to cater it. We had a phone call about it, and we’re going to start planning everything today.
My car shudders as it crests over the big hill, and the Hayes House comes into view. I have to remind myself not to just drive past it to get to the brewery, which is just a few miles further up the hill, with some woods separating them. I’ve heard the kids in town tell spooky stories about it, but there’s nothing to it.
Honestly, I feel a little weird every time I pass by this place. Very briefly, my last name was also Hayes, though that was very quickly reverted back to Barrons after the divorce. I guess it’s a common enough name to show up in plenty of places, but it still bugs me at the back of my mind.
Whatever. I’ve left that life behind and moved on. I’m a new, different person.
Aiden catches sight of me backing my car up the long, winding driveway and jogs out to meet me by the time I get out. He’s a bit younger than me and about as gym-bro-y as I’ve ever seen a person be. I always come in this way because it’s closer to the kitchen.
“Need a hand?” he asks, already popping open my trunk.
He always helps me unload when I show up at the brewery, so I’m not surprised. In a way, this is our secret handshake: he lifts up the tin foil lids on my covered trays to sneak a taste and I have to slap his hand away.
Some days, like today, he’s actually quick enough to grab a homemade mini-quiche and pop it wholesale and cold into his mouth before I can say anything.
“One of these days, I’m going to bring something raw that you can’t just eat.” I sigh and roll my eyes. I can’t hold back my grin when I let him know these are actually leftovers from thelast brewery event I brought over just for him. I’m only here to do the recipe planning today.
“I’d survive it,” he scoffs, hefting the sample food trays out of my trunk, heading away for the kitchen. “I’ve eaten gross things. You can’t even imagine.”
“You don’t even eat leftovers,” I scoff as I pass by Aiden’s brother, Logan, on my way in, following behind with the last of the trays.
“Hey, man, congrats on your engagement! I had literally no idea,” I start to say, fully intending to tease him a little. I’d consider the brothers my friends at this point, or at least work friends.
Logan shoots me a glare that I’ve seen people wither after receiving. I don’t think I’ve been on this end of it before, and I nearly drop the two trays I’m holding.
I don’t have time to really process the evil eye he threw my way before the Aconite Ales’ owner strolls down the hall, looking for me.
Deanna Hayes greets me with a perfect, red-lipped smile, her dark-brown hair pulled back into a graceful bun with fine silver streaks through it. “Morning, Elise. This way.”
“Morning, Mrs. Hayes, Deanna, I mean,” I stammer, clutching my stack of trays.
It’s hard not to be a little formal with her, she’s just so put together. She plucks the pair of them from my arms like they’re nothing.
“Um, is Logan doing ok? Thought he was gonna bite my head off.”
She waves a hand. “There was some issue with a supplier he’s been dealing with at the brewery. It’s been a topic all week. But! That’s not for you to worry about; we have more important things to discuss.”
Once I’ve shaken Logan’s glare off, it’s hard not to marvel at how lovely their home is. It’s like stepping into a magazine every time. She leads me into their kitchen, where she has her coffee and newspaper set out like she usually does.
It appears Aiden has left my other trays stacked on the stainless-steel counter, though none of the lids have survived his curiosity. Of course.
“Oh! Before I forget, I wanted to let you know. Since the brewery isn’t hosting events next week, I went ahead and put the clam delivery on hold.”
“Oh, good you remembered that.”
“Right? I swear I had a premonition about it last Friday. I woke up in a cold sweat after a nightmare that we got the delivery and didn’t have enough cold storage.”
“We would have too. I’ve been so buried in this I didn’t even think about our regular vendors.”
