Page 18 of Dead to Rites

“I was kind of worried the next owner would be someone I couldn’t talk to,” he said. “But I guess I didn’t need to worry. And it’s a nice bonus to have the new owner be so easy on the eyes.”

My cheeks heated, which was ridiculous. Maybe Mack Donovan thought I was cute, but it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it.

The door opened then, and Marco came in holding a go-cup from Starbucks. Mack didn’t disappear, but he held a finger to his lips and then winked before he sauntered off down the hallway.

So now I had two ghosts in my life. Oddly, I was encouraged by that realization. It made me feel a little less alone.

Marco’s arrival signaled the start of Happy Hour, and soon enough, we were in such a rush that I didn’t have time to think about ghosts or speakeasies or anything more than the next order and the next bottle of wine to uncork.

Things eased up just a little right around dinnertime, although we had a few tables that seemed perfectly content to have a charcuterie board as their evening meal. I assembled the boards quickly but with care, and when Roz took a look at the first two before they went to our guests, she gave me a nod of quiet approval and I let out a breath, feeling as if I’d just passed a test I hadn’t even realized I was taking.

A little after that, the last of our guests had departed, and Marco and I locked up. He told me he’d see me tomorrow, and I smiled and said the same.

Because I would be back tomorrow, and the day after that. Roz and I hadn’t really worked out my days off, but it sounded as if they were probably going to fall in the middle of the week, based on the days off she and Marco had already established for themselves. That didn’t bother me too much, since it seemed that Copper State Cellars was going to form the bulk of my social life going forward.

I pulled on my sweater and walked home. It felt right to do that, too, as if somehow the universe was reassuring me that these quiet streets with their vintage lamps were perfectly safe. I’d lived places where I wouldn’t have dared go outside after dark, even to put trash in the dumpster, but Prescott wasn’t like that.

Hazel was waiting for me right inside the door when I got home. Chauncey was with her, tail wagging frantically. I knew he couldn’t be too urgent because there was a dog door in the kitchen, but he probably just wanted to know that the person who fed him and petted him and let him sleep on the bed hadn’t disappeared into thin air.

I bent down and picked him up, letting him wriggle ecstatically in my arms.

“How was the bar?” Hazel asked.

“It was fine,” I said. “Busy for most of the day. And I met Mack Donovan.”

She nodded, a knowing smile touching her pink-lipsticked mouth. “Oh, Mack. He’s harmless. Just don’t let him flirt too much.”

I set Chauncey down and grinned at her in reply.

“Too late for that.”

Chapter 5

Death Pays a Visit

The weekend after that was a blur, but I didn’t mind. Being busy meant I didn’t have to do anything except what was expected of me, which was to show up at work, keep things running, and learn as much as I could about how Copper State Cellars operated.

Mack popped in during the slow moments to offer pithy comments about our lineup — he thought we should back off on the whites now that fall was really here, and he still seemed wary of the mead altogether, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what it was supposed to be — and I told him I’d take it under advisement.

“I thought you were a whiskey guy,” I said, and he just shrugged.

“You hang around a place for a hundred years, you pick up a few things,” he replied, and I had to admit that was a fair point.

And on Wednesday, one of my days off, I went to my follow-up appointment with Adam Emerson, who checked my vitals, asked me a few questions, and gave me a clean bill of health.

“Staying away from the bees, right?” he asked as I rolled down the sleeve of my cardigan.

“Honestly, I’ve been working so much that I haven’t been spending much time outside,” I told him. “But the morning dog walks have all been bee-free.”

“Glad to hear it. You carry the EpiPen in your purse, though, just to be safe?”

“Everywhere I go.” I reached for the black alligator bag I’d found in Hazel’s closet and opened it so he could see the EpiPen nestled next to my little makeup bag, the one that proclaimed, Shop Like No One’s Looking. Luckily, it was turned on its side, so I didn’t think he could read what it said. I didn’t want him to think I was a total airhead.

“Good to hear.” He settled his stethoscope back around his neck, then said, sounding almost diffident, “Now that we’ve confirmed you’re doing fine, I was wondering if you might like to have dinner sometime.”

Wow. I couldn’t deny that I thought he was extremely good-looking, but I was also surprised he’d just put it out there like that.

“Um…is that okay?” I asked, then rushed to add, “I mean, because you’re my doctor.”