by Lee Hollis
She rummaged around in her toiletry bag for some aspirin and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror across from the bed hanging on the wall. She looked drawn and tired and completely spent from her bout with food poisoning. She pulled the skin around her eyes back giving her a self–face lift and didn’t look much better so she just let her face sag back into its normal position.
She was under too much stress.
That was the only reason she was looking prematurely old.
Yes, that had to be it.
If she was at home and relaxed she would absolutely look decades younger.
At least that’s what she told herself.
And by golly, she was convincing.
Hayley still had an hour before she was to report to the kitchen to start the prep work for her potluck dish she was making for the competition so she decided to take another brief stroll around the property, as she had the night before, hoping the fresh air might do her some good.
It was a chilly day so she wrapped herself in a bulky white wool sweater and put on some long thick pants and sturdy sneakers, and set out along the gravel trail through the picturesque gardens and lush foliage.
The farther Hayley walked away from the house, the colder and breezier it became, especially as she got closer to the ocean. She folded her arms and squeezed tightly trying to keep warm. She was about to turn around and head back when she heard a woman laughing. She looked around and didn’t see anyone nearby. She listened for a few more moments, and then heard the woman’s cackle again. It was a rich, melodious laugh, flirtatious and feminine, and it was coming from behind a row of tall husky bushes.
Hayley inched her way closer to get a look at the woman laughing, squeezing herself between the bushes and creeping through in a crouch position, then lying flat on her stomach in order to peek through and observe what was going on without being seen.
On the other side of the bushes, near the cliff’s edge that led down to the rocky coastline, she could see Lena Hendricks playfully slapping the arm of another man and giggling like a coquettish teenager.
But it wasn’t Conrad.
She was cavorting, however innocently, with a much younger man, Tristan, the strikingly handsome son of celebrity chef Gerard Roquefort.
Hayley watched as Tristan suggestively took Lena’s hand in his own as he entertained her with a story. She laughed at all the right places, and Hayley was close enough to see Tristan’s eyes sparkling, mad with desire for this attractive, slightly older woman.
When he finished his story, Lena threw her head back and laughed again. He couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped a hand around the back of her waist and pulled her to him, gently stroking her face with the palm of his other hand.
There was a moment of stillness as the two stared into each other’s eyes, but then, Lena seemed to snap out of her reverie and gently extricated herself from his grasp. She took a few steps back, putting some safe distance between them.
Tristan looked confused and hurt, but tried to cover as Lena spoke softly to him.
Hayley strained to hear what she was saying, but a breeze had kicked up and it was drowning out the sound of their voices.
Behind her, on the other side of the bushes, she heard a man clearing his throat.
She froze, not daring to move, hoping that whoever was hanging about the row of bushes wouldn’t see her.
No such luck.
She felt a strong finger tapping her on the back of her leg, which undoubtedly was sticking out of the bushes in plain view on the other side.
Hayley inched her way back out until she was able to stand up and brush the dirt off her sweater and pants.
“I’m curious to know what was so interesting on the other side of these bushes?” a familiar voice asked.
Hayley turned around and gasped. “Lex?”
Lex Bansfield smiled and nodded, tipping his ball cap like a true gentleman.
Lex had worked as a caretaker at several island estates over the years mostly because he was good at fixing things and making the properties look lush and pristine year-round.
He had a sterling reputation around town.
He was also Hayley’s ex-boyfriend.
They had dated on and off for a couple of years before drifting apart and ultimately going their separate ways.
Still, she had many fond memories of their time together.
Her kids adored him and were both still in touch with him.
He would slip them some cash to help pay for schoolbooks and expenses, and once in Gemma’s case, Hayley learned, even paid for a ski trip to Sugarloaf with some of her college pals.
Lex had many good qualities.
But he was a tough nut to crack.
He rarely allowed his emotions to surface, and that made it challenging for Hayley to know what he was thinking. And the frustration from that and the pressure of not knowing what was going on in his mind eventually caused them to break up.
“What are you doing here?” Hayley asked.
“I work here.”
“Since when?”
“A few months. Got hired by Penelope herself. She said she liked my laid-back attitude and effortless charm.”
“She said that?”
“Yup.”
Well, it was undeniable that Lex Bansfield possessed both of those qualities, and he certainly knew how to turn them on when he needed to, especially in a job interview.
“Do you like working here?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s a good gig. The pay is decent and they pretty much leave me alone when they’re here in residence, which is only a few months out of the year. The rest of the time, I run the place on my own.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Hayley said, adding quickly, “Really, I am.”
Lex grinned. “You look good.”
“Thanks,” Hayley said, resisting the urge to pull back the skin around her eyes with her fingers again to look a few precious years younger.
“So I heard through the grapevine you’re no longer seeing the vet,” Lex said casually, though the words dropped like a bomb.
“No, we tried awfully hard, but it just wasn’t in the cards, you know how it goes,” Hayley said.
“I sure do,” Lex said wistfully.
There was an awkward silence.
Lex cleared his throat again.
Hayley stared down at her now mud-stained sneakers.
“So I’m single again,” Hayley felt the need to add.
“Good to know,” Lex said with a wink. “I better get back to work and leave you to your . . . spying.”
“Oh, I’m not—!”
Lex gave her a withering look as if to say, “Don’t even try to con me. I know you too well.”
He tipped the visor of his ball cap one more time and trotted off to his pickup truck parked nearby with some gardening tools stacked in the back.
As he jumped in and pulled away, Hayley realized her headache was gone and she wasn’t feeling so tense anymore.
Still, the air around her was filled with plenty of tension.
Only this kind of tension was more of a sexual nature.
Hayley sighed.
Like it or not, Lex Bansfield was back in her life.
Chapter 9
When Hayley arrived in the kitchen to start prepping her potluck dish, Spaghetti Pie Casserole, she was surprised to find all the necessary ingredients including noodles, ground beef, spicy Italian sausage, onion, cheese, garlic, and all of her required spices and vegetables for her homemade tomato sauce carefully laid out on the large island in front of the massive stove and oven. Penelope had reserved three whole hours for Hayley to have exclusive use of the kitchen with orders that she was not to be disturbed.
After a quick inventory to ensure she had everything she needed, she filled a pot with water and set it on the stove and fired up the burner full blast to get the water boiling for the pasta. Then, she greased a large pie pan with a stick of butter and set it aside a
nd searched for a skillet to cook her meat.
She was just about to tear open the package of ground beef when she spotted Clara, wearing a dowdy coat and worn red hat, suitcase in hand, quietly heading for the back door, which led to the grounds outside.
“You off to do some food shopping, Clara?” Hayley asked.
Clara spun around and stared daggers at Hayley, fire in her eyes.
“No, I’m not off to do some food shopping,” she said in a mocking tone. “I’m going home. I’ve been fired.”
“What?”
“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen after you accused me of trying to poison you with bad mussels?”
“Penelope fired you? I don’t believe it!”
“Not Penelope. Conrad,” Clara spit out, barely able to contain her rage. “He stormed in here this morning and gave me a real dressing-down before ordering me to pack my things and vacate the premises immediately!”
“Oh, Clara, I’m so sorry . . .”
“Yeah, I’ll just bet you are,” Clara said with a sour look on her face.
“No, really, I am. I never meant for you to get the blame because I got a bout of food poisoning. I mean, it’s not like you deliberately fed me that bad mussel . . .” her voice trailed off as she watched Clara’s mouth turn up into a derisive sneer.
“Well, I guess you will never know for sure, will you?” Clara said.
Clara had to be joking.
She wasn’t evil enough to serve Hayley a rotten mussel on purpose.
Or was she?
“Clara, did you really . . . ?”
Clara let the possibility hang in the air long enough to get the reaction she wanted, which Hayley dutifully provided by slowly backing away from her.
Clara scoffed and vigorously shook her head. “Of course I didn’t! I love this job. I would never do anything to jeopardize my position here. But then you came along and ruined everything!”
Clara gripped the handle of her suitcase and charged out the door. “This isn’t over, Hayley Powell! You better watch your back!”
Hayley chased after her but stopped in the doorway. “Clara, please let me talk to Conrad . . ”
“It’s too late! He’s made up his mind!” Clara shouted back at her.
Hayley watched her run off, dragging her scuffed suitcase behind her.
This was a disturbing development.
She had to at least try and make things right.
Hayley left her ingredients on the counter, and headed out to find Conrad. After speaking with a housekeeper, who saw him strolling outside with his pipe in hand, Hayley knew she would find him in his usual spot near the cliffside, smoking.
As she made her way through the end of the garden where it opened up to the beautiful ocean view, she spotted Conrad exactly where she expected to find him, but he was not alone. In his arms, her head resting on his broad chest, was Lena Hendricks. He was stroking her hair and reassuring her about something. Lena’s previous suitor from earlier that morning, Tristan Roquefort, was nowhere to be seen.
Hayley slowly approached them. She had no intention of hiding this time. She wanted them to see her. When Conrad caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, he almost shoved Lena away from him. As she stumbled back, her face full of surprise, Hayley could see Conrad signaling her that someone was approaching.
Lena turned her head and upon seeing Hayley marching toward them, grimaced. She said something quickly to Conrad, and then scampered off in the opposite direction down a path that led to the shoreline and disappeared.
“Do you make a habit of spying on people, Ms. Powell?” Conrad asked, annoyed.
“No, I just came to talk to you about Clara.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
“I know. And I feel awful about that. I was hoping you might reconsider . . .”
“What if it had been the governor, or a senator, or a big-name actor or some other VIP who ate those mussels . . . ?”
“Instead of a lowly local food columnist?”
“You know what I mean. What if it got out that someone at one of Penelope’s dinner parties got food poisoning? It would be the most talked-about story on social media. She’d be more of a pariah than Paula Deen! We can’t afford mistakes like that and risk tarnishing Penelope’s reputation.”
“But don’t you think everyone deserves a second chance?”
“No. Frankly, I don’t.”
“But Clara has been with you and Penelope for such a long time . . .”
“My wife tends to honor loyalty more than I. Which is why I am in charge of the hiring and firing these days. Penelope is too much of a softie. And we need to rule our staff with an iron fist in order to stay focused and competitive. I’m thinking of our company’s long-term goals.”
Hayley could see that Conrad was not going to budge.
“Okay, then, well I’m sorry I interrupted you and . . .” she said quietly, letting her voice trail off as she glanced in the direction where Lena had fled so quickly from the scene.
Conrad stiffened. “I admit, I am very fond of my wife’s assistant, Lena, and I consider myself a friend and mentor to her . . .”
Hayley nodded, trying desperately not to show any judgment in her face, but she failed miserably because she could see Conrad frowning at her and getting more defensive by the second.
“But let me assure you, Ms. Powell, there is no hanky-panky going on between the two of us,” Conrad said forcefully, although his words rang hollow. It was as if he had rehearsed what he was going to say and was just going through the motions, hoping his performance might be adequately convincing.
“Understood,” Hayley said.
“And let me be perfectly clear. I do not have some kind of nefarious plan to kill my wife so I can be with her assistant. I love Penelope and would never do anything to harm her. And if you suggest otherwise, to anyone, especially the press, I will sue you for defamation of character!” Conrad seethed, stepping forward forcefully, throwing Hayley off guard.
“Got it! Thank you for taking the time to talk to me!” Hayley said, slipping past him and scurrying off back toward the house. Her only thought was getting as far away from the cliff’s edge as possible in case Conrad lost it and tried shoving her over the side.
Something deep down in her gut told her that he would have had no compunction in sending her hurtling to her death if it meant salvaging his reputation and keeping his seat secure on the Penelope Janice gravy train.
Island Food & Spirits
BY HAYLEY POWELL
A few years ago we had one of the hottest Fourth of July weekends on record. Normally I would brave the heat and watch the town’s annual parade go by from the sidewalk, but this year that low-profile plan was squashed when I was enlisted by my brother Randy to help him with his float representing his local bar Drinks Like a Fish. It was his way of showing the community just how much he appreciated their business. We spent the night decorating and sorting out all the T-shirts, ball caps, and bumper stickers we planned to toss out from the back of the truck to the large crowd of locals and tourists, who would be lining every inch of the parade route, which traveled from the ball field down Main Street, then along Cottage Street and onto Mount Desert Street, and finally down Ledgelawn Avenue, where everyone would finally disperse and head over to the ball field for the next main event, the Rotary Lobster Feed and assorted activities and games.
Ivan and Stephen, two pals of Randy and Sergio who were visiting from Bristol, England, and my best friends Mona and Liddy, as well as myself, had overnight completely transformed Sergio’s black Dodge Ram truck into a mirror image of Randy’s actual bar with a couple of small tables, stools, and a completely stocked bar set up in the bed of the truck. We accented the sides with red, white, and blue crepe-paper trim.
After only a few hours of sleep before the parade, everyone gathered at my house for my world-famous—okay maybe a few blocks-famous—French Toast Casserole and
a large pot of coffee laced with a bottle of amaretto. I added the amaretto because what’s a holiday if you can’t celebrate?
After polishing off two pots of spiked coffee and the casserole, it was time to go. Someone got the bright idea to fill a few thermoses full of the amaretto laced coffee so we didn’t get thirsty during the parade, and off we went fully prepared for the two hours it would take to get from start to finish on the parade route.
We were all in incredibly high spirits, despite the scorcher of a day we were having, and by 10 A.M. we were rolling along Main Street and could already see the cheering crowd ahead of us!
Stephen insisted on driving the truck since Sergio could not do it himself. As police chief, he had to bring up the rear of the parade in his cruiser. We briefly worried about putting Stephen behind the wheel since he was used to driving on the opposite side of the road in England, but he assured us he was fully capable of driving in America. Since the parade moved along at a snail’s pace, what harm could he really do?
Liddy, Mona, Ivan, Randy, and I took our places in the back of the truck, pretending to have a wonderful time at the faux bar, waving and throwing our loot out as children rushed forward to grab our goodies.
As we moved along, the sun climbed higher and hotter in the sky. I tried to ignore it at first, but it was so sweltering and overwhelming, I thought I might get heatstroke from the oppressive humidity. My head was pounding, and I was choking on the diesel exhaust pouring out of the tailpipe of the truck in front of us, where the First National Bank employees excitedly threw little plastic piggy banks at the crowd. Behind us, the Mount Desert Island High School award-winning marching band played “The Theme from Shaft” and it was deafening.
I noticed Liddy wiping her brow and swaying from side to side, about to faint. She pitched forward, passing out, and I rushed forward to catch her and we both fell to the floor of the truck. Mona sank down too, overcome by the heat. Ivan tried steadying himself but he forgot to put sunscreen on his bald head and face and he was completely red and feeling sick as well.
