“Come on in, Ms. Reed,” Mr. Manning called, waving her inside.
Sonja turned to face the brown-haired blue-eyed man sitting behind the desk. He wore a crisp green shirt and black vest the looked excellent on him. He had one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile as he stood from his chair, holding out his hand in greeting.
“Oh, hello Mr. Manning,” she managed to cough out, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. Heading into the room, she shook his hand.
“Have a seat,” he motioned toward the plush leather chair across from the desk.
“Thanks.” Sitting down, she nervously adjusting her shirt, feeling frumpy.
“I apologize if you overheard anything unpleasant, just now.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Mr. Port tends gets excited sometimes.”
“He did seem pretty upset about something.”
“Oh, you know how these old men can be,” he confided in her like she was supposed to relate to what he was saying. “He just seems to think we’ve got a resident ghost here on the grounds.”
“I heard.”
“Yes, well,” he folded his hands on his desk, “If anything, he was the victim of a prank.”
“Why do you say that?” Sonja asked.
“We’ve had some vandalism recently. Nothing serious, of course, but if the culprits came back last night, they may have spooked old Dusty.”
“I see.” Her lips thinned out as she pushed them together in thought, skeptical about Manning’s explanation.
“In fact, I’m having a new surveillance system installed this week that links right here to my computer just to catch the intruders,” he pointed at his expensive laptop with a proud smile. It seemed like he was bragging about how he could install a new system at the snap of his fingers. That’s the sort of thing you could do when you had a disposable amount of money at your discretion, Sonja guessed. “We even have cameras and remote-control functions on all of our golf carts to discourage anyone from stealing them.”
“That seems smart,” Sonja agreed, not quite clear on what any of this had to do with food or catering. She wanted to get to the point and get out of there.
“Deloris Upton is our security technician; she is the best in the business.”
Sonja wondered if she was supposed to know who Deloris Upton was.
“In fact, her work may interest you in case you ever decide to get a security system at the diner.”
Sonja highly doubted that would ever be the case, but nodded none-the-less.
“Here is her card.” He held out a white embossed business card for her to take.
Not wanting to be rude, she took the card and stuffed it deep into her purse, forgetting about it almost immediately. “Thanks.”
“Enough about all of that. You didn’t come all the way down here to discuss ghosts and security systems.”
“No, of course not,” she smiled, shaking her head. “I wanted to thank you for considering us.”
“Here at the Haunted Falls Society Club we only want the best,” he told her matter-of-factly. Giving her a toothy smile, he revealed a glimmering silver replacement and pointed at her. “You, my dear, are the best.”
Sonja was taken back by this comment. “Really?”
“We wouldn’t settle for any less.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel that way, but I can’t help but feel that . . . diner food may not be what your club members are expecting.” Her voice grew timid.
“Because it isn’t fancy enough?” he asked in a knowing tone.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Well, my dear, my club members eat the same dribble every day. If I wanted to, I could have our own kitchen right here at the clubhouse cater this event. However, for a Father’s Day Tournament like this, it just seemed right to have some American classics to eat.”
“I see. Like waffles?”
“Precisely. Waffles. In fact, I was hoping you’d come up with something new just for the occasion. One of your magnificent recipes.”
“You want me to reveal a new waffle recipe here at the club?” she asked, surprised at this whole ordeal.
“Your establishment always draws the crowds whenever you have something new out. People love it, including many of my club members. They rave about your food.”
“They do?” Sonja wasn’t aware that customers of that caliber were coming into her diner. Throughout the course of the day, all the faces begin to blend together.
“Yes, my dear.”
Sonja shifted uneasily in her seat. With all the warm comments and encouragement from Mr. Manning, she felt more uncomfortable. “I’m just not sure.”
“You haven’t even heard my offered compensation for your services.”
“Oh, well, I assumed this was a charity event.”
“It is,” he informed her holding up his index finger, “but we always pay our staff for their efforts. The charitable contributions mostly come from the club members themselves. In fact, any men participating in the golf tournament are paying a premium cost—including myself.”
“I see, so what did you have in mind?” she asked, moving to the edge of her chair.
He smiled at her, pausing for effect. “We were looking at twenty-thousand.”
Sonja’s heart stopped for a second, skipping a beat, as she nearly fell off the chair. Grabbing the armrest to steady herself, her mouth hung wide open like a barn door.
Manning returned her expression with an amused chuckle.
It was way more than she’d ever made on a catering gig. With that kind of money, she could really get a few things at the diner spruced up, maybe even get some new appliances for the kitchen.
“That is very generous,” she admitted.
“Hardly. It’s what we would be paying any other catering company. The benefit of hiring you? We know we’ll receive only the best hand-crafted foods. We have about two hundred members attending the event. That comes out to about a hundred dollars a plate.”
“It’s so much money. I’m not sure I can accept,” she sighed, not believing what she was saying?
“Of course, you can,” he insisted, “but how about I sweeten the deal? Does your father live here in the area?
Sonja blinked, not sure where he was going by asking that question. “Yes, he does. In fact, I live in the guest house behind my parents.” She instantly regretted saying that, her face growing hot and red.
“Does he enjoy golf?” Manning asked without skipping a beat.
“Yes, he loves it.”
“Then how about this. In addition to the twenty-thousand I’m offering you, your father can play in the tournament completely for free.”
“For free? Isn’t it for club members only?”
“He would be my guest.” He placed a hand on his chest. “I’ll even make him my golf partner for the day. Besides, I’m the one who has to give the final okay on memberships.” He pointed at a small stack of brown folders, most likely applications for membership. “For that one day, your father has my okay to be a member.”
Smiling widely, Sonja thought she just might laugh with joy. This would be the perfect Father’s Day present. “How can I say no?”
“You can’t,” he beamed. “Then we have a deal?”
“We definitely have a deal.”
“Very well,” he said, standing up and holding out a hand. “We’ll draw up the contract and then we’ll be in business.”
“Thank you.” Following his example, she stood up and shook his hand again. “Also, I’m sorry about my outfit, I came straight here from the diner this morning.”
“I find your outfit charming. Sometimes, I think that we should have a casual day here at the club. Maybe that way we all could be a little more comfortable with each other.”
“Of course,” Sonja agreed.
CHAPTER 3
* * *
“I’m here,” Sonja announced, entering the back door of The Waffle Diner and Eatery’s kitchen.
/> “Hi, Sonj.” Alison stood at the counter over four waffle irons, cooking up a batch of delicious recipes for the brunch crowd.
“Greetings, daughter,” A familiar voice greeted her from the grill.
Sonja looked over with a curious gaze and spotted her father. He wore an apron and wielded a spatula like an iron-clad warrior with a sword.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked, pleasantly surprised to see him.
“I’m working, can’t you see?” he teased, motioning to the hot grill that was filled with sizzling eggs, bacon, and sausage.
“Vic called in sick this morning,” Alison informed her, “and Alex had to stay home and watch Cynthia. Your Dad was the only other person I could think of to call.”
“And I’m glad to help,” he beamed.
Sonja tried to force a smile. While she loved her dad, she did have a tense history with him. For four and a half years of her life, he had been completely absent—up and left her and her mother without a word.
Now, Sonja knew, this was because of the paranormal powers he had. He was worried that evil spirits might invite themselves into their lives. He wanted to protect them. However, when he learned that his daughter had inherited his power, he came back home to help her out with learning how to face these new horrors.
Sonja was happy to have him back in her life but in her kitchen? The diner was her sanctuary, a representation of her maturity and adulthood. Having him help out felt emotionally undermining.
Unfortunately, it didn’t appear she had any other choice in the matter that day. She’d have to get used to having him there for a little while.
“Don’t worry,” her father assured her, reading his daughter’s expression, “it’s only until Vic is feeling better. After that, I’ll be out of your hair.”
“It’s fine,” Sonja replied, trying to push her feelings aside. “In fact, it’s better that you’re here. I have news.”
“Oh, that’s right. What happened at the meeting with Mr. Manning?” Alison asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
“Mr. Manning? You mean the president of that fancy-pancy club?” Sonja’s father waved his spatula while he talked.
“That’s the one,” Alison replied, smiling at her friend and still waiting for an answer.
“We’re catering the Father’s Day charity event at the golf course,” Sonja announced. Shifting her feet, she grabbed her apron off the hook and slipped it over her head.
“Okay, good. I was worried you might turn him down.”
“I didn’t. Not when he offered me twenty-thousand dollars.”
Alison’s face went completely slack, her jaw hanging wide open.
A loud clatter echoed through the room as her father dropped his spatula.
“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Samuel exclaimed, bending down to grab the spatula.
“That’s right.”
“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Ally asked again, still not believing it.
“Yes. Twenty-thousand dollars.” Sonja smiled, beginning to laugh.
“Oh, my gosh. That’s ridiculous,” Alison gleefully jumped up and down.
“Well, we are serving two hundred people.”
“Who cares?” Ally continued. “That’s so much money.”
“I know. On top of all of it, Manning sweetened the deal,” Sonja said, walking over and pulling an order slip off the turnstile so she could begin cooking.
“How’s that?”
Sonja turned to her father with a big smile.
“What? Is he giving me twenty-thousand dollars as well?” he joked.
“No, Dad, but you know how you always looked at that golf course and wished you could play on it?”
“So?”
“So, Mr. Manning has offered to let you join in on the tournament completely free of charge.”
“Wow, that’s so exciting,” Ally interjected.
The furrowed brow on Samuel’s face, however, said otherwise.
“What’s wrong?” Sonja asked. “I thought this would be the perfect Father’s Day gift for you.”
Her father’s lip twitched. “It is very nice, sweetie.”
“But?”
“But,” he hesitated, nearly forgetting the fried egg and bacon on the griddle.
“Dad, the food,” Sonja instructed, pointing.
“Oh, sorry.” Facing the grill, he flipped the food before it burnt. “I just don’t know if I’ll feel comfortable playing golf with a bunch of hoity-toity society club members.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, my golf clubs are old. They’re probably junk compared to what those people have. On top of that, I’m going to look cheap going out there in my usual golf clothes.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I just don’t know, sweetie.”
“Oh, Dad, nobody cares,” she said, feeling hypocritical after worrying about her ugly van and poor choice of outfit earlier that morning.
“You’d be surprised,” he pointed out, jabbing at her with the spatula.
“Come on, Dad, this is a big opportunity for you. Only club members get to play on the golf course. This is your chance to get out there and really enjoy yourself.”
Samuel scooped the egg and bacon onto the plate and pushed it down the counter where Ally put two triangles of fresh waffle on it along with a dish of whipped butter. Placing it in the window, she rang the bell. “Order up.”
“Here’s how I see it. Either I’ll end up hating it because of all the snooty club members, or it’ll be so amazing that it’ll ruin golfing anywhere else ever again.”
Sonja openly rolled her eyes at her father’s over exaggeration. “This is a good charity opportunity, too. For every hole you make under par, the club will donate a hundred dollars. For every hole-in-one, they’ll donate five hundred.”
“I just don’t know,” he grunted, turning back to the griddle and cracking two eggs onto the hot surface.
“Dad, it was a nice gesture on Mr. Manning’s part to let you play. He is looking forward to having you there, in fact. On top of that, I think if you just suck up your bad attitude you’ll have a surprisingly good time.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like your mother,” he smirked.
“Well, the daughter shouldn’t have to parent the father,” she pointed out, shaking a scolding finger at him.
“Happens more than you think,” Samuel laughed out loud. “All right, all right. I’ll go and play at the tournament.”
“Good. That’s the spirit.” Sonja smiled.
“I just hope I don’t embarrass myself. I’m a bit rusty on my swing.”
“The important thing is to have fun,” she told him, still feeling like the parent figure.
“I’m glad I told you that before.” He chuckled to himself.
“All right, back to work,” Sonja ordered, passing him the next order slip.
“Right-o, boss.” He saluted her with the spatula.
CHAPTER 4
* * *
Sonja worked hard to find an outfit to wear for the Father’s Day charity event, so hard, in fact, that she’d nearly overlooked coming up with a new delicious waffle to reveal at the party. She’d eventually settled on wearing a simple black pencil skirt, a white blouse, and a sheer maroon scarf.
On top of that, she’d spent an hour doing her hair, curling it and putting it up on her head so that it looked professional but classy and fun at the same time. She’d gotten all new makeup as well, carefully drawing on her eyeliner and lipstick to make her features really shine.
Unfortunately, even with her carefully selected outfit, hair, and makeup, she still felt completely out of place as she stood under the awning at the back of the clubhouse that morning. The charity event hadn’t officially begun, but club members were already milling about the green and sitting at the tables near the water fountain that marked the start of the first hole.
Her father, who leaned awkwardly on the side of the fountain, looked equally out of place. He wore a freshly pressed pa
ir of brown khakis—courtesy of her mother—and a red and blue polo. He’d even bought a new cap for the event.
Sonja, Alison, and a few of the girls who were usually waitresses at the diner stood behind the long service tables, evenly spaced apart from one another, each with their own waffle iron and griddle for cooking and serving. They’d already prepped all the ingredients beforehand and were just waiting for the event to begin before serving up their delicious new recipe.
She watched people going back and forth, wondering what today would be like. She’d even spotted Dustin Port out on the first hole practicing his swing. She watched him for a minute or two, and being a novice at golf, thought he looked like he was pretty good.
She didn’t know the extent of the “accident” she’d overheard Manning and Port talking about, nor did she know of the success of Dustin’s professional golf career, but she wouldn’t have been surprised to see him walk away with the best score that day.
Scanning a nearby grove of trees, Sonja noted the presence of someone else who looked completely out of place—Greg Wilkins, one of two deputies in Haunted Falls.
Sonja’s boyfriend, Sheriff Frank Thompson, had traveled out to Wyoming to visit his dad for Father’s Day, leaving his deputies in charge. She wondered what one of them was doing here.
Walking across the green, Greg smiled upon spotting Sonja, as if relieved to see someone who wasn’t a club member. Waving, he approached the table. “Hi, Sonja. I didn’t know you were catering this event.”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Manning asked for me specifically, so here I am,” she acknowledged.
“Wow, that must be quite an honor.”
“It is,” she agreed, “but it’s a lot of pressure, too.”
“I don’t doubt it. Are you revealing a new waffle today?”
“You bet we are,” she exclaimed. She glanced at the club members walking around and wondered just how many more would show up. “I know this whole thing hasn’t started yet, but do you want to try it?”
“Do I? You don’t have to twist my arm.” His eyes widening like a kid in a candy store.
Hole-In-One Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 17) Page 2
