“We are very happy to welcome you to our Brookview family for as long as you need us.”

“And he gave her a very nice price break,” Angelica added with a smile.

“I really appreciate that,” Tricia said.

The couple at the next table set their napkins down and rose from their seats. Like vultures ready to pick bones clean, two busboys immediately descended and cleared the table. With blinding speed, a fresh clean tablecloth was in place, with clean water goblets, wineglasses, and sparkling place settings of cutlery.

“This way,” said the hostess. Tricia looked up to see Christopher and Chief Baker making their way to the recently vacated table.

“Ah, Tricia. Fancy seeing you here,” Christopher said, sounding delighted.

“What on earth are you two doing here?” Tricia demanded, just a tad annoyed.

“Since we couldn’t have dinner with you, and since we came so close to losing you last night, we decided to call a truce and at least have dinner in the same place as you,” Christopher said.

Angelica poked a finger against Tricia’s ribs. “Isn’t that darling?”

“No, it isn’t,” Pixie answered, giving the men a sour look as they took the recently vacated seats. “Sounds like stalking to me.”

“On the contrary,” Christopher said, “who wants to be alone on Valentine’s Day?”

“Not me,” Baker said, “although I have to admit sharing my evening with Christopher isn’t my idea of a fun date.”

“We decided to unite and are ready to help with anything you need. Moving, errands, cat sitting. You name it, we’ll do it,” Christopher said with what sounded like pride.

“That’s very generous, but no thank you. Would you please excuse us so we can go back to celebrating Mr. Everett’s birthday?”

“I had no idea. Happy birthday, Mr. Everett,” Christopher said and Baker nodded in agreement. Mr. Everett waved a polite thank-you.

The men took their seats, and almost immediately a waitress showed up to take their drink orders.

Meanwhile the conversation resumed at the party table. “Has anyone heard how Joelle is doing?” Ginny asked, taking a sip from her water goblet.

“According to Frannie, she’s in the burn ward at St. Joseph Hospital in Nashua—doing as well as can be expected,” Angelica said.

“What about Ms. Dittmeyer’s ex-husband?” Mr. Everett asked.

“He’s sitting in the Hillsborough County lockup charged with murdering Betsy, and for arson—at least for setting the blaze at Tricia’s store,” Angelica answered. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he was charged with setting the fire at Betsy’s house, too. It’ll probably take time for them to tie him to that fire.”

“That slimy bastard deserves to rot in jail, what with burning up Sarah Jane and Haven’t Got a Clue,” Pixie practically spat.

“Did you know the fireman rescued Joelle’s family Bible?” Angelica said, and turned to face her sister.

Tricia shook her head. She hadn’t been allowed back into the store to see what was salvageable and what needed to go straight into a Dumpster, which was okay as she wasn’t quite ready to face that task.

“Chief Baker has it,” Angelica continued. “He may or may not send it to the hospital for her. She may need it to comfort her in the days ahead.”

“That’s right,” Baker put in, and everyone at the table turned to look at him. He ducked his head guiltily, finding his menu of infinite interest.

“As I was about to say,” Angelica continued, with a pointed glare leveled at the next table, “apparently, Joelle’s going for genetic counseling and will have her baby tested as soon as possible.”

“Joelle was pregnant?” Ginny asked, aghast.

Tricia nodded. “It seems to be catching.”

“Catching?” Grace asked.

“Yes, Nikki at the Patisserie is also pregnant.” Everyone turned to look at Nikki across the dining room. She noticed them and gave a cheerful wave.

“My word, perhaps there’s something in the water,” Grace suggested.

“I sure hope not,” Angelica said.

“Me, either,” Pixie agreed.

“And what if the outcome for Joelle’s baby isn’t good?” Grace asked with trepidation.

Angelica shrugged.

Ginny forced a smile and cleared her throat. “I think you might have something there, Grace, about there being something in the water, because as it turns out . . . Antonio and I are expecting a baby in late August.”

“You are!” Grace called out, absolutely delighted, and reached over to touch Ginny’s hand. “Oh, I’m so pleased for you both.”

“Congratulations!” Pixie squealed.

“I can’t wait to throw you a baby shower!” Angelica cried, got up from her seat, and scampered around the table to give Ginny a hug.

“And what do you think of our news, Tricia?” Antonio asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.

“I’m ecstatic, but I must confess I already knew.”

“So I heard,” he said under his breath.

She leaned closer to speak to him. “I hope you’re not angry.”

“Not at all,” he said, keeping his voice low. “For some reason, Ginny was afraid I might make her stop working, or that our employer would replace her. She may do as she wishes. She does not need to be on the premises every day to manage the store, especially if we can find someone like Pixie or Mr. Everett to help out.”

“No poaching my employees,” Tricia warned him.

“It never crossed my mind,” he said with a smile she didn’t quite trust.

“Hey, Antonio, is now a good time to pour the wine?” Pixie asked.

“I think so,” he admitted, turned for the champagne bucket, and withdrew the bottle. A few moments later, he’d popped the cork and gotten up to fill everyone’s glasses.

“I propose a toast,” Antonio said, raising his glass. “To Mr. Everett. May this be the best birthday he’s ever had.”

“Hear! Hear!” they all said, and drank. Ginny, of course, toasted with ice water.

Mr. Everett blushed and took a sip of his champagne.

“I have a special request of you and Grace,” Ginny said. “Antonio and I have no relatives in the area. Would you mind terribly being honorary grandparents to our baby?”

Tricia wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Mr. Everett blushed an even deeper shade of red. He risked a glance at Grace, who nodded enthusiastically. “We would be delighted.”

Everyone took another sip before Angelica raised her glass. “I propose another toast. To Tricia.”

“To me? Whatever for?” Tricia asked.

“To you and Haven’t Got a Clue. Without you, Ginny would have never met Antonio. Without you, Mr. Everett and Grace would never have gotten together. Without you—I would have never come to Stoneham along with my own brand of business acumen. It’s all because of you that the entire town has blossomed.”

“I think that one sip of wine has already gone to your head,” Tricia said, but the others would hear nothing of her protests.

“Thank you for being a great boss,” Pixie chipped in.

Antonio held up his glass. “May the wait for reopening your store be short, and may you be twice as successful as before.”

“Hear! Hear!” everyone said, including Christopher and Chief Baker, who’d again been eavesdropping at the next table.

Tricia felt her cheeks grow hot, but nonetheless smiled. She may have lost just about everything in the fire, but Jerry Dittmeyer couldn’t take away one of her most valued treasures, the friendship she shared with everyone at the table. She raised her own glass and drank to the future—whatever it might bring.

ANGELICA’S RECIPES

SPANAKOPITA

¹/₂ cup olive oil