Page 48 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
He demonstrated, tugging a handful of seeds from the head of one plant and breaking open their thin shells.
“The seeds of these flowers are small because they’re being grown for oil production instead of snacking, but they’re still tasty.” He offered the shelled seeds to Vivi and then to me before eating some himself.
I chewed mine, enjoying the nutty, mild flavor and tender texture. “I’ve never had sunflower seeds that weren’t roasted and salted and sealed into a plastic bag. These are good just the way they are.”
“Aren’t they?” he asked. “The petals are also edible. They’re good in salads.”
Vivi chewed her seeds and reached up to the sunflower head to pluck a few more for herself. “I didn’t know that. See, youcanstill teach an old dog new tricks.”
Gray pulled out his phone and took some photos of her while she harvested.
“How doyouknow all this?” I asked, half-suspecting Gray was full of bs, particularly about eating sunflower petals.
“I’ve been on some long stakeouts during operations,” he explained, clicking a few more angles. “Did a lot of reading. And I figured it would be useful to learn about which plants are edible and which aren’t.”
Then he turned the camera to me. “Smile.”
Feeling self-conscious—I hated pictures of myself—I scrunched my nose and made a silly face. Then Gray encouraged Vivi and me to pose for a few pictures together.
“What a marvelous idea,” she said. “We can put filters on ourselves, Scarlett, and look like cats with huge eyes.”
Now there was an idea. At least surrounded by bright yellow blooms no one would be looking at me in the photos. I managed a few smiles for my grandmother’s sake.
We spent another half hour walking through the field, randomly selecting seeds to crack open and eat.
“Well, this whets my appetite. Who’s hungry?” Vivi asked.
“I am,” Gray said, “and these little seeds aren’t getting the job done.”
“I could definitely eat.”
Vivi clapped. “I know—let’s go to the Cliffhouse. My treat. I want Scarlett to see the view there.”
“Cliffhouse it is,” Gray said.
To get there we drove back into Eastport Bay then took a winding seaside drive that hugged the rocky coastline and offered breathtaking vistas of the Atlantic Ocean. In some places the outcroppings of dark shale and slate gave way to inlets and sandy coves, and beyond it all stretched the majestic gray-blue water.
We took a right onto a small lane that led past a series of tiny beach cottages, a beautiful private harbor, and then atop a gentle hill, the Cliffhouse itself.
It was a beautiful historic mansion that had been turned into an inn and restaurant. Behind it, the hillside sloped down to the water and offered an amazing view of the bay and the open Atlantic.
White Adirondack chairs covered the grassy lawn. Nearly all of them were filled with well-dressed people holding cocktails as they awaited their dinner reservations at the outdoor tables or perhaps they were just preparing to toast the approaching sunset.
Already the sun was sliding lower in the sky, causing a long suspension bridge in the distance to gleam like a silver crown against the blue of the water.
“Wow,” I breathed. This place was breathtaking.
Vivi smiled and took my hand. “This is the Eastport Bay I always wished I could show you. I want you to fall in love with my home—and consider it your home away from home.”
“It’s lovely. Should we try to find some empty chairs, or do you want to put our names on the wait list for a table?”
She gave me a wink. “We’ll let Gray take care of it.”
He’d stepped away from us toward the outdoor host stand and was smiling and talking to the young woman who worked there. Like every other woman in his vicinity, she appeared to be dazzled by his looks.
After a short conversation, they shook hands, and he returned to us.
“They can seat us in about fifteen or twenty minutes,” he said. “They’re going to pull three chairs together for us on the lawn while we wait. I’ve already ordered us some sparkling waters.”
