Page 91 of The Oscar Escape
“Agreed.”
She threaded her arm with his as they headed to the inn. “Maybe this weather will hold. That would be terrific for the festival.”
It had been sunny and unseasonably warm today. A welcomed shift—especially if one had to walk from the schoolhouse to the inn at night. But Aria was correct. The weather could make or break an event.
“The site to purchase tickets online is ready, right?” she rattled off as their quickening footsteps crunched along the path. The sound melded with the soundtrack of the ocean meeting the shore, offering a peaceful alternative to their amped-up state.
“Yeah, I checked it earlier today. It’s working.”
They rounded the bend and hightailed it toward the inn’s back door.
She inhaled and hummed. “It smells like seafood heaven in here.”
She wasn’t kidding.
He caught notes of lobster, butter, and cream. “I think we’re in for a treat.”
Del opened the door that led from the kitchen to the dining area and waved them in. “You’re just in time.”
He caught Aria’s eye. He knew they were thinking the same thing.
What a difference a few days made.
The last time Del had waved them into the dining area, it had been for Aria’s appearance before the judge.
“We’ve saved you a spot near the TV and got you bowls of lobster chowder, too. It’s a Havenmatch Island specialty,” the man continued as they snaked through the packed dining area.
“Here it is! Here it is!” Etta called and pointed to the screen as a scenic shot faded, and the news desk with two grinning anchors filled the screen.
“That smells delectable.” Aria sank into the chair, ignored her spoon, and lifted the bowl to her lips.
“Hungry?” he asked with a chuckle, but it was good to see her eating real food.
“That’s the Havenmatch spirit,” Del chimed and joined Aria in knocking back the chowder like children drinking the last sips of milk from a bowl of cereal.
“It’s starting,” a man called, and the room stilled.
Oscar watched his fake wife set her empty bowl on the table. He picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “You ready for this?”
She leaned in and lowered her voice. “At least I’ve got something in my belly if this turns out to be a flop, and we have to make a run for it.”
He could hear the teasing quality in her tone. She was trying to keep it light, but he pulled back and studied her expression. He could see the conviction and the fight in her eyes.
“Eat,” she said, nudging his bowl toward him.
He downed the delicious chowder, finishing the last bit as the intro music faded and the anchor kicked off the evening news.
“Good evening, Maine, I’m Greg Henderson,” a coiffed man resembling a Ken doll crooned. “We’re starting the broadcast with a must-see video for our viewers. An extremely rare cotton candy lobster was discovered in the waters surrounding Havenmatch Island.”
The shot changed, and the camera zeroed in on the woman seated next to Greg.
“I’m Lexi Sheehan,” a wide-eyed blond anchorwoman said, jumping in. She tapped her chin and graced the camera with a puzzled expression. “Did you say Havenmatch Island, Greg?”
“Does the anchorwoman look familiar to you?” Aria asked him, lowering her voice.
“No, I don’t know who she is,” he answered, his attention glued to the screen.
“I sure did, Lexi,” the anchorman replied.
