Stabbed in the Baklava by Tina Kashian

Author:Tina Kashian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

“Oh, my gosh,” said Lucy, as soon as she arrived at the restaurant the following afternoon. “You put tables on the sidewalk.”

“We didn’t have a choice.” Emma met her at the door, looking flustered. “We got a lot more calls this morning asking for reservations, and Azad helped me carry all the extra tables and chairs outside.” Azad came up behind Emma.

“The place was booked?” Lucy asked.

Azad nodded. “Booked solid.”

“That’s wonderful!” said Lucy. “And I never had a chance to place an ad in the Ocean Crest Town News.”

“People must be talking. The hummus bar is a huge hit.” Azad was busy buttoning his chef ’s coat.

“It’s not just the hummus, Azad. Your specials have been fabulous, too,” Lucy said.

Azad’s fingers halted on his coat, and his coffee-brown eyes held an intimate warmth. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Her heart thumped uncomfortably. Lucy shifted her feet, suddenly nervous. “Are your dinner entrees ready for tonight?”

“Yes.”

“How about the dining room tables?” Lucy peeked inside the dining room to see pressed white linens, lit candles, and silverware settings.

“After our last lunch customer paid a half hour ago, we rushed to get everything ready,” Emma said.

Gratitude welled in Lucy’s chest. “Everything looks great. Thank you both.”

Emma slipped her waitress apron around her neck and tied it at the waist. “Excuse me. I still have to stock the waitress station and prepare the coffee.” Emma departed and left Lucy alone with Azad.

“Do you really like the outdoor tables? Emma added hurricane candles, vases with a single rose, and folded the napkins into swans,” Azad said.

“It looks fabulous.” It was a lovely summer evening, and a pleasant ocean breeze felt wonderful on her skin. Azad held the front door open and placed a hand on her lower back as he followed her into the dining room. The simple touch made her knees weak and a quiver surge through her veins. “Azad, I—”

Just then a flash of white caught her eye out the front bay window.

Oh, no.

Her heart hammered as a white van pulled up and brazenly parked in the handicapped space. Bold, black letters screamed across the side of the van: Ocean Crest Town News. A short, stocky man with black-rimmed glasses hopped out and headed for the front door.

“What’s Stan Slade doing here?” Azad said.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” Lucy said.

Stan Slade was the town’s sole reporter. A New York City native, he’d relocated to Ocean Crest a few years ago for reasons unknown. Her mother had told her Slade had left a prestigious reporting job at a national newspaper to run Ocean Crest’s small-town paper. Lucy’s first experience with the reporter months ago hadn’t been good, and she doubted it would be better today.

The front door swung open and Stan strode inside. “Lucy Berberian,” he said in a nasally voice that grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I heard you catered that socialite’s wedding.”

She shrugged a shoulder as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Catering isn’t big news.

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