Page 195 of Just One Little Bargain

“It’s good.”

She grins and snatches the glass from me. “Perfect. That’s going on the new menu at the bar.”

Maddie turns toward the bottles again, calling for Daisy to bring more ice without even checking whether she’s anywhere nearby.

She isn’t. My sister is across the lawn in a cream sweater and dark jeans, talking with Caroline while Rick crouches beside one of the folding tables with a wrench in his hand. I don’t know how he noticed the loose bolt, but he’s tightening it while Caroline stands over him frowning.

Peter is leaning against the porch railing with a beer in one hand, pretending not to slip Marmalade pieces of smoked salmon with the other. My cat, traitor that he is, sits at his feet looking deeply devoted.

Rebecca brushes past me carrying a plate piled high with quiche and roasted vegetables, and I step aside just as Lucas spots me from the edge of the crowd. He lifts his drink in a cheerful little toast.

I wave back and immediately regret it when he starts walking over.

Daisy intercepts him halfway, one hand landing on his arm while she says something that makes him turn toward the food table instead.

When she circles back, Lucas is happily examining the mini pies. “Nicely done.”

“I’m earning my keep.”

“You don’t work here.”

“Exactly. Imagine what you’d have to pay me.”

Maddie hooks two fingers through my sleeve and shoves another glass at me.

“No.”

“Yes. This one has pear syrup.”

“That’s not a compelling argument.”

“It has rosemary, too.” She lifts the glass closer.

I sigh and take it. I’m halfway through deciding whether I like it when Nora comes hurrying across the lawn with a camera bouncing against her chest and cardigan slipping off one shoulder. Her cheeks are pink from the cold air.

“Evie! There you are.”

“I’ve been here the entire time.”

“Yes, but now the light is good.” She takes my wrist. “Come stand by the sign.”

“The Foxglove sign?”

“What other one would I mean?”

“I don’t know. You arrived carrying a camera and urgency.”

Nora laughs and steers me toward the gate, dodging around a couple of guests from the inn who’ve joined the party. The sun has shifted lower, warming the front of the building and catching in the copper and gold leaves along the road.

“Why exactly are we doing this?”

“I’m putting together a community board. Local businesses supporting local businesses. Very hashtag-friendly.”

I let her position me and snap a dozen photos while I try to smile naturally and fail spectacularly.

“Perfect,” she declares, reviewing the screen. “You look like you’re about to throw up, but we’ll work with it.”

“Thanks, Nora.”