“Why is it that you have no problem telling me no, but you seem to be scared of most of the women in town?” I lifted on tippy toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Especially Darla?”
“I’m not scared. I’m polite. Besides, I have to keep up the strong alpha fa?ade.”
I chuckled. “You know fa?ade means fake.”
“Are you ready, or do you want to play with your catch for a while longer?” He walked to the door and glanced down at Emma. “You want her in or out?”
“Outside, please. Kevin came by yesterday and sunk that stretch offence she’s been digging at with concrete. She won’t escape in that spot.” Emma had taken to leaving the yard and sunning herself on Esmeralda’s front porch across the road. Our local fortune-teller/police dispatcher didn’t mind the visits, but I worried about Emma running out in front of a car. I glanced at the bill sitting on my counter. “He tried to talk me into doing the entire backyard that way, but I’m hoping she’ll grow out of this stage.”
“Hope springs eternal.” Greg opened the door and Emma trotted out. He threw her a chewy bone. “Be good.”
“Like that’s going to happen.” I grabbed my purse and swung the long strap over my head.
As we walked into town, we fell into an easy silence. There’d be plenty of time to catch up on our day’s activities later on. Now I wanted to enjoy the moment, being with him.
Most of the cast had already gathered by the time we arrived. Matt Randall, the winery’s new manager, and Darla’s new boyfriend, greeted us with two red Solo cups filled with beer. I studied the contents of the cup, then raised my eyebrows. “Beer?”
Matt grinned. “Not just beer. Coastal Spring Ale. The winery’s first addition of on-site brewed micro beers to our product line. I think you’ll like it.”
I sipped the smooth clear ale. The light brew tasted of summer and a little tang of strawberry. I took another sip. “It’s good.”
Matt’s smile widened. “I wanted something that would appeal to the non-beer drinker since most of our clientele are die-hard wine drinkers. Maybe we’ll get a following, maybe not, but it’s been a lot of fun.”
“Let me know when you need a taster for the next creation. I’ll be glad to be a guinea pig.” Greg slapped Matt on the arm. The two men hadn’t spent a lot of time together as Matt was a recent addition to our South Cove community. He still lived in Bakerstown, the closest big town north on the highway, but he spent most of his days at the winery with Darla. I wondered if I should arrange a couples’ night over at the house. We could invite Matt and Darla, Amy and Justin, and—I paused. I’d probably have to invite Aunt Jackie and Josh. And maybe Toby and Elisa, if they were still dating. After the holidays Toby had been pretty quiet about his social life. Maybe she’d thrown down the gauntlet, asking our bachelor barista to make a relationship commitment.
“You’re lost in thought.” Greg took my cup out of my hand and set it at our table. Then he helped me slip out of my light jacket.
“Sorry, I was planning.” I slipped into a chair, glancing around for Darla, who was our director as well as being the Chicago bordello madam where the mystery had been set.
Greg chuckled. “Lord help us, what are you plotting now? Should I guess or do you want to spring it on me later?”
“I’m not that bad. Besides, you’ll have fun.”
Greg mumbled something as Darla and Matt walked up to the microphone at the front of the room.
I leaned closer and whispered, “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, that’s what you said about tonight’s activities. And I’m definitely not having fun.” Greg pulled me close into a hug. “Okay, well, maybe a little.”
I leaned against him while Darla walked us through the evening’s lists of events. We’d get into costume first, then line up on the stage, where any changes that needed to be made would be noted by the cast’s self-appointed costume designer and seamstress, Esmeralda. She’d declined an acting part claiming she never knew when the “sight” would come on and she didn’t want to mess up the play. After that, we’d have a full-run dress rehearsal. “I plan on wrapping up the rehearsal no later than nine,” Darla announced. “So be quick about your costume changes. Girls have the Breakwater room, and guys, you’re in my office. Your costumes are waiting in the room.”
Matt leaned into the microphone. “Fellows, follow me. The office has been prestocked with pitchers of ale to keep your throat from getting dry.”
Greg and the other men in the room cheered as they stood to join Matt.
As I walked toward the Breakwater room, Amy Newman slipped in step next to me. Amy was South Cove’s city planner, City Hall receptionist, and secretary to Mayor Baylor. She was also my best friend. Her short blond pixie cut bobbed with each step, showing her enthusiasm for the night’s activities. “Justin would follow Matt anywhere if he thought free beer was involved.”