LITMIR.BIZ

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“We’ll need a few more minutes, Chester,” Hypatia replied calmly.

       She went on admiring Petra’s watch and asking questions about the logos of the other Anderton hotels. Garth was in the midst of listing the hotels and explaining their individual logos when Dale Bowen walked into the room. His unruly hair appeared freshly combed, and he’d somehow managed to shave. Petra supposed that, like many men, he carried a battery-operated razor. She also supposed that he’d been invited to dinner!

       Her assumption proved entirely correct when Hypatia smiled and said, “We can go in now, as we’re all acquainted.”

       “I’m not acquainted!” Dallas exclaimed, leaping to her feet with a frown.

       “That’s right. You weren’t at Garrett’s wedding dinner,” Hypatia said, going on to make the introduction without apology. “Mr. Dale Anthony Bowen, please meet my niece, Miss Dallas Odelia Chatam. Dallas is Petra’s younger sister. Now we may go in.”

       With that, she turned and took Dale’s arm, lest anyone be in doubt that he was her personal guest and should be treated accordingly. Garth cast Dale a stormy glance as the latter escorted Hypatia from the room. Petra realized suddenly that she should have told Garth that Dale worked on the premises, but it hadn’t even occurred to her to do so. She’d assumed that the less said about Dale Bowen the better. Wrong.

       Recovering quickly, Garth hurried to offer one arm to Petra and the other to Magnolia, leaving Kent with both Odelia and Dallas, who tossed her short, bright curls as she took the older man’s arm. Petra sensed her little sister’s dismay, but she couldn’t imagine why Dallas should be discomfited. Garth’s reaction she could understand. He’d had no idea that Bowen worked here, let alone that he was on the premises, but Dallas presented a puzzle. Who could tell, though, what went on in her little sister’s head?

       Besides, the bigger question was, why had Hypatia invited Dale to dinner? Garth asked the same question obliquely as they followed Hypatia and Dale down the west hall toward the dining room.

       “I must say I’m surprised to find Bowen on the guest list.”

       “Oh, Dale works here,” Magnolia supplied. “He’s creating a new suite upstairs for Odelia and Kent.”

       “I see.”

       Garth turned a cold glare on Petra, who sighed inwardly. Obviously, she’d made a big mistake. She wondered if he’d take back his watch and almost hoped that he would. Except that she needed this job, she reminded herself. She had plans, big plans, and the promised promotion was crucial to them.

       “It’s the first time he’s ever been to dinner, though,” Magnolia went on blithely. “Well, except for Garrett’s wedding dinner. You haven’t met dear Garrett, have you, Mr. Anderton?”

       “I have not, ma’am.”

       “We’ll have to arrange that.”

       “Garrett Willows will be supplying flowers and plants for the hotel,” Petra put in. “I’m sure you’ll meet at some point.”

       Magnolia exclaimed happily about that, describing Willow Tree Place to Garth as everyone got seated around the dining table. As soon as they had all found chairs, Hypatia smiled from her customary spot at the head of the table and looked to Dale, who had taken a place across from Dallas between Magnolia and Odelia. Petra, meanwhile, sat flanked by her sister on one side and Garth on the other.

       “Dale,” Hypatia asked smoothly, “would you honor us by saying the blessing?”

       “Happy to,” he replied, bowing his head.

       If he was surprised, he certainly didn’t show it, but Petra saw Kent glance at Odelia, who shrugged slightly before dropping her chin. When Petra herself glanced at Garth, she saw he’d been caught off guard and was watching everyone else for a clue as to what to do. She quickly folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head as Dale began to speak.

       “Father God, we come in humble gratitude for the food we are about to receive from Your great bounty, and we ask Your blessing on those who have prepared and provided it for our enjoyment. May Your Spirit nourish our souls as this meal nourishes our bodies. These things we pray in the name of Your Holy Son, Jesus the Christ. Amen.”

       As a chorus of “Amens” echoed around the table, Chester and the housemaid, Carol, came in bearing trays of food, which they placed, dish by dish, on the table. Plates of cheese and crisp cucumbers served with spicy mustard came first, followed by platters of pan-grilled chicken breasts and baked sweet potatoes. A bowl of corn and an asparagus casserole came next, with hot sesame bread last.

       Garth took one bite of his chicken and went into raptures. “What is this? It’s delicious!”

       “I think Hilda, our cook, finishes it off with apple cider vinegar,” Magnolia told him.

       “We should steal her for the hotel restaurant,” he said to Petra. Everyone laughed, but Petra knew that he was half-serious. She knew, as well, that he’d have better luck stealing the gold out of Fort Knox.

       Garth promptly set out to charm everyone at the table, talking about the various chefs at his hotels and their peculiar personalities. Completely monopolizing the conversation, he had everyone chuckling at his witticisms and stories. Petra noticed that Dale did manage to get in a few pithy rejoinders, however.

       Once, Garth told a long, involved story about a certain head chef who had blown off successful careers in finance, engineering and real estate only to wind up a top cook. “So I ask him,” Garth finished, “why cooking? He sighs and says, ‘I was looking for something I could fail at.’”

       “Should’ve tried construction,” Dale quipped dryly as the laughter waned. “It’s easy to fail at that.”

       “Not that you have ever done so, I’m sure,” Hypatia decreed from the head of the table. “Nor are you likely to.”

       “From your lips to God’s ears, ma’am,” he returned softly.

       Garth cleared his throat and launched into another tale, one that had them all hanging on his every word, about a woman who swore she’d learned to cook so she could poison her abusive husband, but then she fell in love with cooking. Her husband was so impressed that he stopped beating her and gained three hundred pounds.

       “Died of a heart attack at forty-four,” Garth said. “His family still believes she got away with murder.”

       Dallas leapt into the conversational fray by addressing Dale directly. “I think he did it to himself, don’t you? Unless she was shoving food down his throat.”

       “Makes you think, though,” Dale said with a straight face. “I figured Hilda was always trying to feed me because she likes me, but maybe I’m on her hit list.”

       The aunties and Kent all laughed and chorused, “Me, too!”

       Garth showed his teeth in what was surely meant to be a smile, and began regaling his captive audience with descriptions of dishes he’d enjoyed in faraway places. Finally, Chester served dessert. After wolfing his down, Dale rose, thanked his hostesses and took his leave, but not before he sent Petra a crooked smile. She wanted to follow him and apologize for… Well, she didn’t know what she wanted to apologize for; she did know that the evening had been excruciating. Of course, she stayed in her seat and continued to smile lamely when a response seemed necessary, privately writhing all the while.

       After what seemed like hours, Garth finally took his leave, too. First, though, he kissed the hands of all the aunties, clapped Kent on the shoulder with manly bonhomie and bowed to Dallas before appropriating Petra and leading her to the front door.

       “Lovely evening,” he said conversationally. “Delicious meal. Delightful company.” He leaned forward then and whispered in her ear, “How did I do?”

       She just barely tamed an eye-roll that would have done Magnolia proud. “You don’t need me to tell you that you charmed them.”

      

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