Page 125 of Tasty Cherry

Bertie tips his hat at me, then tilts his head as he realizes I’m in partial uniform. His eyes move to the vest in Raya’s arms.

Outside in the front circle, the castle shuttle bus is waiting, its sides emblazoned with a gorgeous summertime view of the hotel and the mountains. The driver opens the door.

Raya leans in. “Take Mila to the Tasty Mango. Please arrange to pick her up at five.”

The Tasty Mango? What is that?

“I have a car,” I say.

Raya steps back. “You will take the shuttle for the rest of this week. Next week, you can drive yourself, one we’ve established Sebastian’s situation.”

His situation? What does that mean?

I take the steps up onto the bus. “Is he going to get fired?” I ask.

“That’s not for me to decide,” she says brightly, as if everything is working according to plan.

I sit in the first seat.

Raya stands by the hotel entrance, arms crossed in front of her, my vest dangling from her fingers, as the driver closes the door and takes off around the circle.

When we’re headed for the highway, I ask the driver, “What’s the Tasty Mango?”

He grins. “That’s the Boudreaux sisters’ deli. One of the finest sandwich places in all of Boulder. Havannah and Magnolia opened it years ago, before Donovan built the castle for Havannah. Magnolia still runs it with her husband, Anthony Pickle.”

“Pickle?”

“You know, the Pickle family. They have delis from California to New York. Anthony owns the Boulder Pickle. The Pickles are tight with the Boudreaux, although it wasn’t always so. It’s quite a tale how the Pickles and the Boudreaux married betwixt themselves to avoid both their delis falling apart. You should look it up.”

So I do, finding the Tasty Pepper, the original Boudreaux family deli, the opening of the Boulder Pickle, and the whole crazy business between Magnolia and Anthony when they were on a cooking show circuit.

We pull up in front of the bright orange building.

“Here we are,” the driver says. “I’ll be back for you at five or thereabouts, depending on where I am with guests.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

I step down in front of the big glass windows. Above them, a pink and orange awning flaps in the wind. There are quite a few people seated inside, and a couple more in line at a long glass counter where employees make sandwiches to order.

The bus drives away.

So this is what happens to people who break the rules.

There’s nothing left to do but open the door and introduce myself.

40

SEBASTIAN

Idon’t hear from Mila for hours. I assume she’s at the hotel and surrounded by people. Knowing her, she feels she’s broken enough rules and won’t take out her phone for anything until she’s off work.

At five, when she should be done, I text her again. Let’s have a nice relaxing evening.

Nothing.

My stomach clenches. Has something gone wrong?

I’m not waiting around. I don’t care if I’m not supposed to be up there.