That was strange. “Do you know who the people in this photo are?” She tapped on the one in front of the hotel.
Olive looked at the photo Ava indicated. “Oh. That’s the Sullivan family. The picture must have been taken before the hotel burned down. This is Zach, Oliver, and I think James. This one is Ashley, maybe? And their parents are in the back, Daniel and Becky…” The girl leaned close to the photo. “I don’t remember all of them.”
“Were they here on vacation?”
Olive gave her a puzzled look. “The Sullivans?”
Ava nodded.
“You do know this place is called the Grand Sullivan Hotel, right?” The girl stopped just short of sarcasm in her tone. “They own the hotel. They live here. Or I guess they used to. Now it’s just Dani.” She tapped the face of the youngest girl in the photo. “Well, and Kate and Oliver.”
Sure, she knew Dani Sullivan-Stone, obviously. She’d seen her name when she mailed in her application for the charity cooking competition, and when she’d done some preliminary research on Jonathon Island. As tourism director, Dani’s name was all over the place. Ava just hadn’t thought the similarity in last names—check that, the same last name—meant she and Zach were siblings.
Or that Zach was from Jonathon Island.
“Are you okay?” Olive put a hand on her arm. “You zoned out there for a second.”
Ava plastered a smile on her face. “Fine. Thank you. Sorry.” She adjusted her purse strap. “Thank you for answering my questions about these.” She gestured at the wall of photos. “Now it’s time for coffee.”
“Oh, my Aunt Jill owns Good Day. I work there too when I’m not here. I’m Olive Kelley. You’ll run into a lot of Kelleys on the island.” Olive pushed her cart a foot, then stopped. “If you tell Aunt Jill I sent you, you might get a discount. See ya.”
So what if Jonathon Island used to be Zach’s home? He lived in Chicago now. No reason to think she would ever have to see him.
The daylight streaming onto the back terrace through the floor-to-ceiling windows beckoned to her, and she went out that way. She still needed to find a unique angle for her article series. Small-town festival? That seemed cliché, even if true. Maybe something about the return of the glories of Jonathon Island.
She paused halfway across the brick patio to jot down her ideas. Still not quite right. Her editor wouldn’t ever approve her remote work if she didn’t knock this one out of the park. Hopefully the festival would produce something so interesting she couldn’t fail.
From the patio, she could see some of the festival tent canopies lining the side of the hotel. Their edges rippled in theslight breeze. A short detour on her way to coffee might be a good idea. That way she could scope things out before the crowds started to arrive. Maybe a good angle for her article would crop up.
The festival booths lined up along one central walkway, with a few dotting the rest of the side lawn. Several displayed banners proclaiming the name of the business using them. One read Good Day Coffee. Fudge Shop on the Corner was emblazoned across another. On the other side, a fish and chips stand nestled next to an omelet booth. A food truck boldly proclaiming to have the best ice cream on Jonathon Island was parked at the end. That must be the ice cream truck Mia had mentioned. By the looks of it, the festival staff had arranged all the food booths down this strip, and the others on the outskirts held other types of vendors.
At the far end and off to the side stood the huge pavilion-style tent where the cooking competitions were going to be. About twenty people milled around under the canopy, but the rest of the festival grounds were deserted.
Dani’s distinctive laugh rolled toward her. So, the island’s tourism director was somewhere in that tent. This would be a great time to do a little interview for the article. They hadn’t had much time to chat last night.
As she walked closer, several people unloaded crates from a trailer connected to a dray wagon. The grassy tops of carrots flopped over the side of one black crate. Another looked like it held gallons of milk.
“Ava!” Dani’s voice rang out from behind her, and she whirled toward it. The tourism director stood in a shaft of sunlight. Her casual jeans and Jonathon Island Flavor Fest T-shirt were perfect for the warmth of the beginning of June. “I’m happy to see you. Come and meet everyone.” Dani looped herarm through Ava’s and started pointing out the people around them.
A roar in Ava’s head drowned out all the words Dani spoke. A dark-haired man bent to pluck a crate of cabbages from the cart. His muscles flexed under the short sleeves of his red T-shirt and along his back. He turned toward them. A flash of green eyes and high cheekbones confirmed what she suspected.
Zach.
Beside her, Dani trailed off.
A pressure on Ava’s arm made her look at her companion. Dani had grabbed her bicep in addition to the arm she still had crooked around her elbow. Dani’s eyes traveled between her and Zach. “Ava, is everything okay? You look pale. Do you need to sit down?”
“I’m fine.” Not fine. Her mouth had dried. She really needed that coffee. “I, um, should really get going.”
“Now? But you just got here. Let me at least introduce you to my brother.” She tugged Ava forward.
Her skin cooled in the shade of the tent before warming again as they drew up next to Zach.
“Ava, this is my brother Zach. He’s a chef competing in the cooking challenge. Zach, this is Ava. She’ll be one of the judges.” Dani dropped her hold on Ava’s arm. Too bad because now Ava felt lightheaded enough to float away. Not only did Zach find her to be some sort of mortal enemy, he also knew her secret.
Zach narrowed his eyes. “One of the judges?”
Dani laughed, the sound light and airy in the air grown thick as roux. “Yep.” She looked at Ava. “You have to promise not to give him special treatment just because he’s my brother.”
