Which this morning's edition had.
Eloise took the now wrinkle-free paper and read the headline:
Salem to Get A Dark Gust of Powerful Visitors
She frowned, handing it back to Tilly wordlessly, who took a bite of the golden puff pastry and moaned as the tart and bright berry hit her.
"This is divine. What is the icing?"
"It's cream cheese hibiscus."
"I should sell these at the inn."
"That's not a bad idea. I can help you come up with a bakery menu if you'd like."
"Really? We could make it an extension of The Black Cat."
"Orrrrr," Eloise poured an intricate floral foam design, and as she pulled up the silver frothing pitcher, her word cut off, and she looked at Tilly. "You name it something else because it's yours."
"Maybe. But I don't know how to bake. Make wine? Yes. Bake? Negative."
Eloise pointed at her after she called out the drink for someone to pick up. "Your wine is art. And I will make pastries for the inn. We'll work up a business plan together."
Tilly smiled into her latte. The first real smile since their dark, powerful visitors last night. She liked that. Her mind was already moving around with what to call it, what she could offer. She liked the idea of redoing the wide front porch and adding tables for people to stop by for a glass of wine on the Crescent Inn property, which was beautiful with its many weeping willows draping dramatically around the grounds and the lush garden.
"Are we going to talk about last night?" Tilly asked, her voice pitched low, and her shoulders hunched around her.
Eloise looked around biting her lip before she hunkered down on the bar in a similar position and replied, "I don't even know how to untangle it. Ursula and I barely even spoke of it. We knew Crystal had secrets and knowledge, but," she shook her head, a line between her pretty amber eyes forming.
"But what exactly are the secrets and knowledge?" Tilly hedged. "Could they hurt us?"
Before Eloise could respond, a voice interrupted their whispering.
"Hey, Til."
Her head swiveled to where Ronnie leaned against the bar. He looked good. Better than good.
She inwardly sighed.
"Hey," she finally responded with a small smile.
"Listen, I'd like to take you to dinner. Even though you're ignoring me, " he joked with that uncommitted smile.
"I'm not," she shook her head. Suddenly, she lost words and couldn't pin down what she wanted to say. "I've been in the middle of a lot."
He had never been that guy-the one who was direct and proactive. He was the, let's-hang-out guy. He was the just-so-happened-to-have-time guy.
He left behind a dented version of her when he so easily picked up and left without a thought for her, and did it in a way she held no illusions that he had looked back. She had cried and pulled into herself until Jen got her out of it.
Do you think he's ashamed of me?she'd asked Jen.
No. And I don't think he's ashamed of himself,her friend had replied gently but honestly.
And now here he was, running into her and asking her to dinner.
"You want to take me to dinner?"
He half smiled. "Yeah, was thinking you know, whatever sounds good. We can catch up, and it'd just be good to hang out with you."
