“Are you here for the festival?” the woman asked.
“Sure am,” he said, then pulled out the chair for me.
Betsy perked up and called out, “Marty! Bring two more plates of food for Zoe and Lucas!” She smiled at me. “I’m so happy you made it down, sweetie. Does this mean you’re feeling better?”
“I am, thank you,” I said, reluctant to admit I was a little wobbly as I came down the stairs.
And there was no way I would share that information with Lucas. That man was like the private nurse I never wanted. Besides, I was more interested in the story of Lucas and the buxom brunette sitting across from me.
“Alrighty, Lucas and Zoe—you have some catching up to do. Don’t be shy; pour yourself some wine and dig in.” Marty placed plates of baked chicken and grilled asparagus and spaghetti. “Lucas—how do you and Savannah know each other?”
And there it is . . .
“Lucas is my ex,” Savannah said.
Lucas grabbed the bottle of wine on the table, poured himself a glass, and took a huge gulp. “We dated for a brief spell, but you know . . .” He took another sip, his face flushing. “Sometimes life can get in the way.”
“Luckily, we split on good terms.” Savannah smiled at Lucas. “What are the chances we ran into each other here, of all places?”
Betsy proudly smiled. “This isn’t called the Serendipity Inn for nothing. Magical things happen here.”
“That’s the truth!” Marty added.
I understood why Lucas hadn’t poured me any wine, but the way he tossed back that cabernet said more than his words.
Was he that nervous being around his ex?
“How are you doing, hash brown?” he whispered in my ear.
I was going to answer, but the scruff of his unshaven face against my cheek suddenly made me lose my train of thought all over again.
“Good,” was all I could say.
I took a bite of the delicious chicken breast, then the asparagus, glancing around the dining room to take in the variety of guests. The Serendipity Inn didn’t have many rooms, so it wouldn’t have been a surprise if all the guests were present at the dinner and accounted for.
Some, happier than others . . .
Damian was glaring at Lucas like he wanted to rip his head off. A little too much testosterone for my taste. Hopefully, he was almost done with his meal, so he would just disappear. Everybody else at the table was watching us like we were the last episode of their favorite TV series.
I take that back.
They all had their eyes on Lucas.
Adoring fans, no doubt.
An older woman with poofy blue hair, thick red spectacles, and an orange and white gingham dress leaned forward and smiled at Lucas. “I have not had the pleasure of officially making your acquaintance in person, Mr. Filo, although I know quite a lot about you. I’m Kay Bursbury. Marty told me you would be here, and I have to admit, I got a little excited at the thought.”
“Have we met before?” he asked her. “You look familiar.”
Kay smiled. “Indirectly, I guess you could say.”
What did that mean, exactly?
She had this gleam in her eyes, like she was withholding information.
“Wait,” Lucas said, studying the woman. “Bursbury . . . as in the steakhouse?”
Kay nodded. “You wrote a review about my grandson’s restaurant in Beverly Hills three years ago. He ended up shutting it down six months later.”