The Enchanted Garden Cafe (South Side Stories Book 1)

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The Enchanted Garden Cafe (South Side Stories Book 1) Page 21

by Abigail Drake


  “Oh, please sit down, sweetheart. Any friend of Fiona’s is a friend of ours. And aren’t you as bright as a hibiscus blossom in your little dress?”

  Mindy smiled and slid into the chair. Ralph and Sally were deep in conversation, and Mindy leaned close to me.

  “I heard you and Scott broke up.”

  I nodded, not sure where this would lead. “News travels fast.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m glad. You’re way too nice for him.”

  I blinked. Mindy always seemed to like Scott. “Thanks.”

  “I broke up with Harrison too. He cheated on me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mindy.”

  She smiled. “I’m not. I got a job working at the Playboy resort in Cancun. I can’t wait.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. “What will you do there?”

  Mindy giggled. “I’ll be a cocktail waitress and hopefully hook up with someone way hotter than Harrison.”

  “Be careful. The men who go to those places might not be nice.”

  She patted my hand. “I’m always careful, and I don’t plan to hook up with customers. Ew. I’ve always had a thing for Mexican men. I’m hoping to live out a few fantasies of mine while I’m down there,” she said with a wink.

  I nodded seriously. “I hope it works out for you.”

  Mindy’s friends called to her from across the room. Buxom and blonde, they all matched. They even had nearly identical tiny sparkly dresses.

  “I’ve got to go, but there is something I need to give you. Can I stop by your shop tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” I said. I began to write down the address, but she stopped me.

  “I know where it is.” She kissed my cheek before she left. “You’re a good girl, Fiona. Thanks for always being so nice to me.”

  As she and her glittering entourage left the building, I thought about what she said and felt kind of sad. I hadn’t been nice to her. I’d barely even been polite and couldn’t imagine what she wanted to give me.

  Sally and Ralph dropped me off in front of the shop. Matthew was still inside, but it looked like he was packing up. I slipped through the back gate and went into the garden to wait for him to leave.

  I sank down on the bench beside the fountain. A couple sat at one of the tables, oblivious to me and totally in love. Not in the mood for young lovers at the moment, I glared at them until they got up and left.

  “Hi, Fiona.”

  I hadn’t even noticed Matthew’s approach. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and dark circles under his eyes.

  He sat down on the bench next to me, so close I felt his warmth and smelled the scent of his skin. I resisted an urge to reach out and touch him by keeping my hands in my lap and my fingers clenched together.

  “Can we talk for a moment?” he asked. Too wound up to answer, I gave him a curt nod. “I saw you yesterday. In front of the shop. With Scott. You looked pretty upset.”

  “I was.”

  He kept his eyes straight ahead, unable to look at me. “You worked your problems out, I take it.”

  “We did.”

  I could tell by the look on his face he thought Scott and I were back together. At least that explained why he hadn’t stopped by sooner, but I saw no reason to correct him. Playing the dejected, despondent lover was all an act, obviously. He didn’t deserve the courtesy of hearing the truth, and it was easier this way. With one lie of omission regarding the status of my relationship with Scott, I’d avoid other lies. Bigger lies. Like telling him I didn’t love him anymore. That would be the biggest lie of all.

  A muscle worked in his jaw, the only outward sign he was upset. “I thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter at this point, but it would have been nice if you’d let me know.”

  I felt cold and dead inside. “I didn’t have a chance. This is the first I’ve . . . spoken with you.” I was going to say “seen you,” but that wasn’t accurate. I had seen him. With the Anderson people.

  “You’ve been busy, I guess.” I heard the bitterness in his voice, and it stung but not as much as what he’d done to me. I may have broken his heart, if he even had one, but Matthew did something far worse. He methodically set out to destroy my mother. And he used me to do it.

  I managed to speak over the giant lump of anguish forming in my throat. “I guess it’s none of your concern.”

  “You’re right.” He shook his head and stood up to leave. “I didn’t come here to fight. I already spoke with your mom. Next week will be my last acoustic night.”

  I nodded, my arms folded tightly across my body. I wanted to tell him the café probably wouldn’t even be open after next week, thanks to him, but couldn’t. “I imagine you have to get back to work. I’m sure you have lots of other things to do.”

  “Something like that.”

  I refused to look at him. “Goodbye, Matthew.”

  “Goodbye, Fiona.”

  I waited until he left, until absolutely certain he was gone, and then walked over to the fountain and sank to the ground next to it. I put my cheek against the cold, stone base. The gurgle of the fountain soothed me, like reassuring words from an old friend who knew me well. I stayed there a long time before finally heading up the narrow staircase to my quiet, lonely little room.

  The next morning, my eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and I looked pale, but I dressed in a sleeveless black-and-white gingham dress from the 1950s with a tight bodice, flared skirt, and black embroidered detail on the waist. I pulled my hair into a tight chignon and put enough makeup on to cover the dark circles under my eyes.

  Mom was in the kitchen. She took one look at my face and handed me a steaming mug of coffee.

  “Thank you,” I said, and took a sip, sighing. Nasty fountain water or not, it still was the best coffee in town.

  Her worried eyes studied my face. “You spoke with Matthew last night.”

  “Yes.”

  She pulled out some eggs and cooked them for me. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. He’s a liar.”

  She paused. “But Fiona . . .”

  I held up a hand, my eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

  She looked like she was going to say something else but instead went back to cooking the eggs. She tossed in some feta cheese and fresh herbs from the garden. She knew it was my favorite breakfast, and I needed comfort food right now.

  Kate and Chad came in hand in hand. I was glad they were so happy, but it was almost painful for me to see them. Kate took one look at my face and gasped. I must have looked worse than I thought.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Mom stepped in and saved me. “We aren’t going to talk about it right now. Can you two set up the tables for me in the garden? That would be a great help.”

  Kate and Chad went out into the garden, and I sighed in relief, not up to facing people or their questions today. I ate my breakfast and later kept busy by arranging my beautiful sugar cookies on a plate. I’d outdone myself this time with my intricate teacups, each one a different design. They were colorful and pretty, and the ladies would love them. I’d also made lemon squares and oatmeal-raisin cookies. With Mom’s savory quiches and sandwiches and her decadent little chocolate croissants, it would be wonderful. She had also carved out a watermelon and filled it with fruit. It looked beautiful, with fresh flowers arranged all around it.

  Before the party started, Mom told us the teas we would serve and had us taste her special mix to make sure we liked it. It was different from her usual teas, sort of rich and dark with undertones of black cherry and plum and something a little strange and exotic in it.

  “This is nice,” said Kate. “What’s it called?”

  She looked at me with a sad little smile on her face. “I called it ‘Believe in Love.’ I’m glad you like it.”

  I scowled. The tea was good, but I hated when she did things like that. “I wish you would stick to Earl Grey once in
a while.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “But where’s the fun in that?”

  As the guests sat in the garden nibbling on finger sandwiches and sipping their tea, Mindy strolled in. She wore a tight white dress, no bra, and a thong. Her ensemble left nothing at all to the imagination. She looked ready for the Playboy resort in Cancun.

  She smiled when she saw me. She had expensive sunglasses perched on her head and a designer bag slung over her shoulder. She gave me a little wave and walked over to where I worked at the register. “Hi, Fiona. Are you having a tea party?”

  “We have one every Sunday. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  I gave her Believe in Love, and Mindy let out a sigh. “This is fabulous. Can I buy some?”

  I put some tea in a beautiful little pastel bag. “My gift to you. Have a wonderful time in Mexico. I’m so glad you’re getting away from Harrison.”

  She heard the sincerity in my voice and smiled. She was a pretty girl, once I looked past the flash and glitter. “And I have a gift for you.”

  She pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to me. Dirty, stained, and addressed to my mom from the National Registry of Historic Places, it had already been opened. I frowned and pulled a letter out of the envelope, looking at her in surprise after I read it. “Where did you get this?”

  “I did a sweep of Harrison’s apartment before I left, looking for proof he cheated on me. I found it. He had gold earrings in his desk drawer.”

  “Maybe they were for you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t wear gold. I made it clear from the beginning of our relationship. And I found naked pictures on his phone from a girl named Kelsey. All the proof I needed.”

  “How did you find this letter?”

  “It was in his desk drawer next to the earrings. I thought it was strange. And it wasn’t stealing since it was addressed to your mom in the first place.”

  I looked down at the official looking piece of paper with a frown. The National Register of Historical Places was part of the National Park Service. My heart thumped in my chest. “The café is registered as a historical building?”

  Mindy nodded. “It looks that way.”

  “Why would Harrison have this?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t help you there, but I can tell you one thing; Harrison isn’t a nice person. You should stay as far away from him as possible.”

  I touched her arm. “It’s a good thing you aren’t with him anymore. You deserve so much better.”

  She gave me a shy little smile. “Which is why I’m going to Mexico. Olé.”

  A sudden thought occurred to me. “When are you leaving?”

  “Not for another two weeks.”

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Sure,” she said with a nod.

  “Do you still have the key to Harrison’s apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to get even with him?”

  She grinned. “Of course. As long as it’s nothing illegal or super mean. Slightly mean is fine. Just not super mean.”

  I wrinkled my nose at her. “I think this falls within those parameters. Would you let me into his apartment? I want to see if he has anything else there that doesn’t belong to him.”

  “It would be my pleasure. He and Scott are going out of town. How would tomorrow work for you?”

  We decided to meet in the morning. She thanked me for her tea, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and looked around the shop. “This is a nice little store, Fiona. I wish I’d known sooner Harrison had your letter.”

  “Thank you for doing this, Mindy.”

  She winked. “Anything I can do to hurt Harrison is my pleasure.” She gave me a finger wave and sashayed out of the shop. A man walking past almost ran into a telephone pole when he saw her. She knew how to use her assets.

  I pulled Mom aside and showed her the letter. She blinked in surprise. “I applied for this ages ago and completely forgot about it. Where did you find it?”

  “Scott’s friend Harrison had it.”

  She looked at me, a puzzled frown on her sweet face. “But how? Why?”

  “I have no idea, but I plan to find out.”

  The rest of the tea party went off without a hitch. It was a beautiful day, and we had a big crowd. We moved a few tables inside because the entire garden was full. I was so busy it took my mind off Matthew, although occasionally one of the old dears would ask where he was, and thinking about him sent me spiraling back down into a pit of despair.

  I called Janet to tell her about the letter. She asked me to bring it in the next day so she could take a look at it.

  “I’d planned to call you today anyway,” she said. “I finally had a chance to dig through the files and find the name of the man who called the health department about the naked yoga. Do you know someone named Sal?”

  “No,” I said with a frown.

  “I haven’t heard of him either. He works for one of Anderson’s subsidiaries, but it doesn’t give me the name of the company, and I have no idea why he would be involved.”

  Much later, long after we’d washed and dried the china and cleaned all the linens, I finally had time to sit and think about what Janet said. I went out into the garden and sat next to the fountain with a cup of herbal tea. Something tugged at my memory, but I couldn’t grasp it. I closed my eyes, leaned back against the soft cushions of the bench, and listened to the sound of the fountain gurgling next to me, like it tried to speak to me. Suddenly the answer came to me, almost as if the fountain had whispered it in my ear, and I realized I knew the identity of the mysterious person named Sal, and it explained exactly how Harrison had gotten the letter.

  Sal. SAL. The initials embroidered on his fancy handkerchiefs.

  Scott Anthony Lipmann.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Be unexpected,

  like whiskey in a teacup.

  ~Aunt Francesca~

  “I’m glad I hurt his feelings,” I said with a scowl as we walked to Janet’s office on a bright Monday morning.

  Mom hushed me. “Be quiet, Fiona. It’s bad karma.”

  “What about Scott’s karma? He’s connected to all this. His company, Burgess and Garrett, is a subsidiary of Anderson. I looked it up last night. He supplied them with the information, and I’m sure he had something to do with Harrison getting the letter. No wonder he kept asking me when you were going to sell.”

  She shrugged. “I never liked him. Did you know that?”

  I snorted. “Yes, I did.”

  “I didn’t realize it was so obvious,” she said with a frown. “The lesson here is to always listen to your gut.”

  “I listened to my gut with Matthew, and he lied to us.” Since it appeared Scott had been the informant, I didn’t understand what role Matthew played in all of this, but he was still part of Anderson Solutions, which made him one of the bad guys.

  “I’m not sure about that,” murmured Mom as we arrived at Janet’s office.

  I rolled my eyes. Once my mom liked someone, she did it with all her heart. She refused to see their flaws and imperfections. The fact she still wanted to give Matthew a second chance was proof positive of her generous nature. I was not so kind or forgiving.

  Janet sank down into her chair. “Sal is your boyfriend?”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I said, wanting to be clear.

  “And your new boyfriend is Matthew Monroe?”

  “Another ex. Sort of,” I said, my cheeks getting warm. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. I was officially a slut and a horrible person with the worst possible taste in men.

  Janet gave me a sympathetic smile. “Do you have the letter?”

  “Yes, I do.” I handed it to her, and she read it quickly, sitting up in her seat as a huge smile spread across her face.

  “Well, I have to say, this letter is valuable. It’s like gold, in fact. It won’t keep Mr. McAlister from selling, but it should be enough to sway the council into preserving the café and
the garden.”

  Mom gasped. “The garden too?”

  Janet nodded. “It says clearly right here the house and grounds are deemed to have historical worth and significance.”

  I sat back in my chair, my thoughts racing. “What will happen to the other buildings on the block?”

  Janet looked up from the letter. “Mr. McAlister has reportedly made his decision. It will be announced at the meeting. I guess he figured it was better for us all to learn at once. How did you get this certification?”

  “I applied for it almost a year ago,” said Mom. “I didn’t say anything to Fiona. I never thought we’d be approved.”

  Janet smiled. “Well, this is perfect timing, and it’s a good thing Mr. Philips is so messy.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  She held the envelope out to me. “Look at this. Fingerprints all over it. It’ll be easy to prove he had it.”

  She was right. Smears and dirty, brown fingerprints covered the outside of the envelope. I’d been so worried about the contents, I hadn’t noticed.

  “The question is, How did he get it?” Janet asked.

  “It must have been Sal.” I didn’t even try to disguise the anger in my voice as I spit out his name. “He was at the café often enough. I’m sure he stole it from our mailbox or something and gave it to Harrison.”

  “It could be.” She sealed the envelope in a plastic bag. “I’ll want a statement from Mindy. I’m not sure it’ll be admissible in an actual court, but it’s extremely valuable as far as the council meeting is concerned. Don’t tell anyone about the letter. Let’s keep it as a lovely surprise for those Anderson bullies. They think Mr. Philips has it and we have no idea it even exists.”

  “I’ll let Mindy know. I’m on my way to meet her now.”

  I didn’t add we planned to do another potentially illegal search and seizure and wrap it up in time for lunch. I left Mom and went to meet Mindy a block away from Harrison’s apartment. She had on tight black pants, a black T-shirt, big sunglasses, and a black baseball hat.

 

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