Page 16 of You Chive Me Crazy
“Get their bags, Marty! Let’s head inside,” Betsy said, then turned to my fake wife who had the most horrified look on her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Uh . . . Zoe,” she said.
“Well, it is such a pleasure to meet you. Follow me and I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”
I reached for my suitcase while Marty took Zoe’s.
We stepped inside the Serendipity Inn and glanced around at the charming interior, the high ceilings, ornate moldings, and large bay windows that let plenty of natural light into the large main room.
Marty dragged Zoe’s suitcase inside and stopped, his breathing heavy. “Do you have a dead body in this thing or what?”
I chuckled. “That’s what I said!”
Betsy shook her head and came to Zoe’s defense. “You men will never understand. It’s not like we’re going to use everything we pack. A girl likes to have options. We always need a backup plan.”
Zoe gave her a knowing smile. “Exactly. Give us a break.”
“Break given,” I said, glancing at the walls that were adorned with vintage floral wallpaper. “What a beautiful place you’ve got here.”
“Thank you,” Marty said. “When we remodeled, we didn’t want to lose any of the style and charm that it had when they built this house back in the early nineteen hundreds. These are the original hardwood floors and chandeliers.”
The furnishings in the reception area were a mix of vintage pieces, including a large oak reception desk with a giant dish of peanut M&M’s sitting on top of it. Against the wall was a large birdcage with a parrot. A male guest was reading the local newspaper in one of the oversized, cream-colored chairs in the seating area.
Marty gestured to him. “Maybe you two know each other. He’s also a food critic here for Big Bang Big Bear.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” The man set down his book and jumped to his feet, walking toward me. “Well, if it isn’t Lucas Filo, aka the Terminator.”
My heart shuttered and just about stopped. “Damian Landau.” I nodded my head at him. “Damian’s breath.”
My worst nightmare.
This couldn’t be happening.
The man was like a rash that wouldn’t go away, a world-class creep who used his status to wine and dine women, then toss them aside like yesterday’s rancid fish—which is what his breath smelled like. It was always best to stand down-wind of him, unless you were in the mood to pass out from the stench. What was worse was he had some sort of vendetta against me, even though the only thing I had ever done was my job.
Please tell me he’s checking out today.
“The Terminator?” Betsy asked. “Where did you get that nickname from?”
Damian wrinkled his nose at me, like I was a mustache hair in hissoup du jour. “Lucas has an annoying habit of putting restaurants out of business with his reviews.”
I rolled my eyes. “They go out of business because of their sub-par food, outrageous prices, and shoddy service. They did it on their own. I had nothing to do with that.”
“I beg to differ.” Damian stuck out his barrel chest, posturing like the bully he was, like he was daring me to say something else, just to have an excuse to stuff my head inside the grand piano in the corner.
The guy had always been a thorn in my side, so it would be in everyone’s best interest to avoid engaging in any conversation with him, even though the man was a complete blowhard.
Besides, Zoe needed to get some rest.
“Still gargling with sewage, I see,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face. “Can I offer you a few hundred mints?”
“Suck it, Lucas.” He scowled at me and walked back to his reading chair.
“Betsy, do you mind if we get that tour later?” I asked. “Zoe’s not feeling well, and she really needs to lie down for a bit.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, grabbing Zoe by the hand. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Zoe shook her head. “No. Thank you, though.”
