Fondue or Die by Korina Moss

Author:Korina Moss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 17

Mrs. Schultz drove home, and I started to walk the block to my apartment above Curds & Whey when I read a missed text from Baz that he was at our local pub, The Cellar, if I felt like having some food with him. I turned around and walked the two and a half blocks up Pleasant Avenue and across Main Street to the historic Inn at Yarrow Glen where The Cellar was located.

The turn-of-the-twentieth-century inn was tucked between rows of evergreens. An inviting porch and an identical second floor balcony wrapped around the entire white, symmetrical structure. The simplicity of the exterior was broken up by two large urns flanking the front door—the summery yellow and white flowers had already been traded for hearty mums and wide-leafed blooms in fall colors of wine reds and rust oranges, providing bursts of color.

I stepped into the modest lobby. A spindle staircase was to the right, and the sitting area anchored by an arched fireplace was to my left. It was comprised of a Chesterfield sofa and two wing chairs on either side of what looked like an antique walnut coffee table. The highly polished wood floor was covered with a dark print rug. A matching runner led to the ornate reception desk at the rear of the lobby, where Baz was chatting with Constance Yi, the twentysomething reception clerk. She saw me enter and waved, causing Baz to notice too. I walked over to them.

“Hi, Constance.”

“Hi, Willa.”

“Don’t tell me you’re already done with dinner,” I said to Baz.

“I haven’t been down yet. Archie bailed on me, so Constance has been keeping me company.”

“Can you join us for dinner?” I asked Constance. They seemed like they were vibing, and I didn’t want to break it up.

“I wish! I took my break early tonight,” she replied.

“You want me to bring you up one of the spiked milkshakes they’re serving for Dairy Days weekend?” Baz asked her.

She knew he was kidding and giggled in response. “I wish!” she said again. “You two have one for me.”

“That I can do. Next time I’ll come as a genie so I can grant your wish. See ya later.”

“I’ll get my three wishes ready,” she said to him, giggling again, as we left the reception desk.

We cut across the sitting area and down the short hall to the red door with a tattered piece of paper taped on it, listing the acoustic bands that would be playing in The Cellar each weekend after eight. There was no sign indicating the door led to a pub, which wasn’t a problem for its clientele. Although the inn had changed hands many times, The Cellar, which originally held the inn’s wine, continued to be the top hangout among locals. Guests of the inn were directed to it by Constance.

Descending the steps to The Cellar often gave me the feeling of going to some secret society. The stone walls and stone floor gave it a somewhat gothic feel, highlighted by the wrought-iron ring chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

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