The Long Quiche Goodbye

Author:Avery Aames
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9781445837109
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2010-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Matthew returned to the shop around five P.M. with an easiness about him that had been missing since we took over the shop. He didn’t mention a thing about my intrusion at Meredith’s. I sure as heck didn’t intend to raise the issue again.

Soon after, three regional wine representatives arrived, two men and one woman. Matthew had invited them to give mini-seminars on the evening’s twelve wine selections. Matthew guided them from wine station to wine station, sharing his thoughts on how to best present the wines. He set out cards he had prepared with wine reviews and pairing suggestions as he roved.

While they waxed poetic about wine, I returned to the cheese counter. “Rebecca, are you ready?”

She gave me a thumbs-up. “Your grandfather is in the kitchen.”

I had told Pépère he didn’t have to come in, but he said Grandmère had ordered him out of the house. Apparently, she and the twins were going to watch a chick flick and then dance the night away.

At six P.M., I strode to the front door and braced it open with a cheese-wedge-shaped doorstop. The cool evening breeze swept inside, as did a handful of townsfolk and tourists.

Delilah moseyed in with Freckles, and they strolled directly toward the tasting room.

The oldest wine rep, an overly-suntanned man from California, greeted them at the arch and directed them to his station.

Meredith sauntered into the shop and pinched my arm affectionately. “Bygones?”

“Bygones,” I said. “I’m so sorry—”

She put her finger to my lips. “No more sorries. Say, I spied Jordan over your shoulder at the house. Are things going well in that department?”

“Not well at all.” I told her about Mystery Woman.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. I saw the way he looked at you at the gala. He’s interested with a capital I.”

I as in iceberg, I thought. Especially after the day’s fiasco.

“Charlotte,” Pépère approached. “People are asking for you.”

Meredith kissed my cheek, then left me to track down Matthew.

“What do they want?”

“To know how to tell a good Brie from a bad Brie.”

I tweaked his cheek. “Pépère, you are perfectly capable of educating them. After all, you are my Yoda.” By the age of seven, I knew ripeness was key to selecting a soft-rinded cheese. Pépère had provided a great example of an overripe Brie that was runny and reeked of ammonia. I hadn’t thought my nose would ever revive. The underripe Brie, which had been thick and chalky-white in the middle, had been much easier to stomach.

“They asked for you,” he said, his gaze wistful and heart-wrenching.

“Let’s both do it.” I tucked my hand in his and we ambled to the counter.

After ringing up the customers’ purchases, Pépère was once again whistling to himself. Hopeful that all would soon be right with the world, I went to check how the wine tasting was going.

“Charlotte, over here.” Delilah beckoned me to join her and Freckles, who was laughing so hard I thought wine might come out her nose.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Kristine,” Freckles said.

“Ever since the funeral, people just can’t seem to stop talking about her.

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