Page 19 of Spring Showers

Grant held the door open and led Thandie through with his hand resting on the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder. A hint of a grin pulled her cheek up. But the door slammed with a gust of wind like a warning to him. Like a reminder that he didn’t know this woman, nor was he there for some sort of speed dating vacation.

Grant had a job to do. Thandie was nothing more than a beautiful distraction. The truth was, he may have locked the door to his heart, but his body hadn’t gotten the memo. His chest flexed, and he drew his hand away from her back.

“You can sit wherever you’d like. Supper will be served soon.” Thandie motioned to an empty seat beside a tall woman. “But you might want to sit with Margret and her friend, Anne. They won’t bite.”

Grant sat down at the small square table and greeted the two ladies sitting beside him. Small talk was one of his least favorite forms of communication, but one that he had become a pro at in practice. His consulting services and constant relocations meant that he often engaged in mindless talk with people he neither cared for nor would likely see again. This was no exception. He would be gone in a few days, and they would never think of him again.

Pleasant, friendly, boring, that was his modus.

Being the unremarkable-yet-amiable sleuth could work on everyone else, but he’d already shown his true colors to one person. In his vulnerable moment, covered in mud, laying nearly on top of a perfect stranger, and bleeding on her, she had seen him. She might not have even realized it in the chaos that she had glimpsed his weakness. Her.

CHAPTER10

Out of Grant’s periphery, Thandie moved through the space, greeting guests, pouring water, and lighting up the room like a firefly at twilight. She spotted him looking at her, and he turned his head quickly back to the conversation. Thinking that wasn’t right, he looked back to her and gave a low wave which also didn’t feel right. His body was making a fool out of him.

She bobbed and weaved around the tables on her way towards him. “Everything alright over here?” she asked the whole table, though he could tell she was really just asking him. “I thought it looked like one of you waved me over?” She poured water into his glass and topped off the others. “Supper should be out any moment. It’s self-serve at the sideboard.”

“What’s on the menu?” Anne asked to his left.

Thandie pinched her brows together and looked up as though the answer might be on the ceiling. “You know, I’m not certain. Do you want me to go check with the chef?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Margret said. “Ignore my friend here. She’ll eat whatever it is.”

“I know the chef has planned according to the preference sheets that each of you filed before check-in.”

“Do you think the chef will come out and explain the dishes like they do on those fancy food shows?” Anne asked.

Thandie looked back at thecucinaand then placed her hands on her hips. “Would you look at that? How did the chef put all that food out without any of us seeing? Since I’ve been here, I haven’t actually met the chef, to be honest with you. I’m just as curious to know him as you are.”

“You haven’t met the chef?” Grant asked. “Shouldn’t you know who’s doing all the cooking?”

“All I know is that all my meals here so far have been perfect. No complaints from me.” She took the nearly empty pitcher and tapped her painted, pink fingernails on the bottom, causing it to play a little musical trill. “I’m going to go fill this up and see if I can coax the chef out for a meet and greet.”

No sooner had Thandie walked away than a white-hatted and cloaked young man came through a side door opposite thecucina. His black hair poked out from the rim of his hat, his face had a warm healthy tan, and his deep brown eyes reminded Grant of his trip to Greece last year.

The chef cleared his throat and announced dinner was served. “I prepare for you tonight, a selection based on yourpreferenza.” The chef’s Italian accent was thick and smooth like honey. “Though the—how you say,pietanze? The dishes, the entrées, may not be what you envision, I hope you like very much.Mangia!” he said and bowed with his hand over his heart. “Enjoy.”

“Definitely Italian,” Margret said and stood from the table. “But there’s something else. I’ll have to think on it. Greek—no, French...” Her voice trailed off as she moved away.

Grant leaned over to the woman on his left, who was still seated. “What’s that about?”

“Mags fancies herself a linguist of sorts, but she’s just nosy is all. I’m Anne,” she said. Her smile cut a jolly line across her round face and wrinkled the skin around her eyes.

“Grant. Pleasure to meet you,” he said and took her hand, helping her to her feet.

The other guests queued at the buffet and were busy heaping their plates with the assorted fare. Despite fatigue pushing at his eyelids, Grant knew he needed to try all the food. He covered a small yawn with the back of his hand. Travel days weren’t his favorite by a long shot.

Margret returned to the table first and placed her plate down. “You’re not eating?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll let everyone else go through first.”

“A gentleman,” she said and sat down. “What brings a nice-looking bloke like you to a wellness retreat all alone?”

“How do you know I’m alone?” he said.

“Because if you were my man, I would dare not let you go anywhere without me.” She hid a giggle behind a fork full of tomato and basil salad. “You’re single?”

He nodded at the woman’s uncanny ability to parse things out for herself. “Is it that obvious?”

---