Page 70 of Honey Drop Dead

“He’s been known to drink a bit,” Philip said. He mimed tipping back a glass and drinking it. “Well, more than a bit. Sometimes he goes on these terrible ragers.”

Holly was suddenly standing there, arms at her sides, head bent forward as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Holly,” Philip said. “What, honey?”

“It’s one thing piled on top of another,” Holly said, her voice quavering. “I feel like the world is collapsing around me. First the shooting at the tea party, then artists started abandoning the gallery—to say nothing of our customers. Now this Booker thing. To cap it all off, I’ve got Jeremy Slade banging away at me day and night. He put two hundred thousand dollars into this gallery and, with everything spiraling out of control, I have no idea how we’re ever going to recover that kind of money, let along pay him back.”

“Holly, business will turn around,” Theodosia said. “You’re smart and resourceful and have a unique talent for discovering up and coming artists.” Her heart went out to the poor girl. She knew Holly deserved so much more than this. Holly was kind, sweet, and perpetually hopeful. At least she had been up until a few days ago.

“You know what I’m going to do?” Philip said.

Holly shook her head and wiped at her tears, as if to bring herself back to the here and now. She managed a weak smile and said, “What?”

“I’m going to put my chef’s hat on tonight and create a superspecial dinner for you.” Philip turned his gaze on Theodosia. “And for Theodosia as well. I’d like you and Drayton to be my special guests.” He flashed an encouraging smile. “Would you both join Holly and me for dinner tonight at the Boldt Hole? Around five-ish, before my regular dinner orders start coming in?” He reached out, grabbed Holly’s hand, and squeezed it. “We’ll all sit down together, enjoy some good food and wine. Maybe toast to better times?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Theodosia said. “We’d love to come.” After all, how could she say no to an invitation like that?

***

Back at the Indigo Tea Shop, the tables and chairs had been put right, the glam squads had packed up and left, and only two tables remained occupied.

“A slow afternoon?” Theodosia said to Drayton.

“Not all that slow. How did it go at Belle de Jour? Was the disaster as earth shattering as Delaine made it out to be?”

“It was pretty bad.” Theodosia quickly filled Drayton in about the masked intruder who’d broken in, graffitied the walls, and basically upset the apple cart.

“And you say the scrawled script and symbols were similar to Booker’s work?”

“Similar but not exactly alike,” Theodosia said.

“A copycat?”

“Maybe. Except I can’t figure out why that would be.”

“To make Booker look guilty? To point the police in his direction?”

“They’re already pointed in his direction,” Theodosia said. “Except now nobody can find him.”

“That’s weird,” Drayton said.

“What’s weird?” Haley asked. She’d wandered out of the kitchen and was standing a few feet away, looking tired and giving them a questioning look.

“The fact that Mignon’s shop has been vandalized,” Theodosia said. She didn’t want to give Haley too much information and upset her all over again.

“Oh,” Haley said. “Is everything okay now?”

“I’m sure it will be soon,” Drayton said. “So... a fabulous luncheon today, Haley, thanks to your exceptional skill in the kitchen.”

Haley waved a hand. “That was easy-peasy. But I’ve been thinking about tomorrow...”

“And?” Drayton said.

“I hate to bring this up, but we have all sorts of honey left over,” Haley said.

“You mean honey from last Sunday’s tea?” Theodosia said.

“Yup. Jars and jars of it,” Haley said. “So I was thinking about doing a honey-themed luncheon. Nothing super fancy because I know it’s too late to advertise. But I thought it would be fun to incorporate honey into a few of my dishes.”

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