“Oh, I am Bailey Edgeworth … the sister. But I am also the visionary behind the new VERT.” I smiled as I said it and glanced over at Annabel. Tonight was not the night to worry about commas. Or prepositional phrases. Just ellipses.

“Let us know if you need anything.” I kissed the cheek of these two men who had been in my life from the beginning. We had been through a lot. We had finally repaired our relationship. We were always better together.

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty

In the weeks to come, traffic was steady. I still enjoyed my perch at the bar to keep an eye on things. I loved the new layout. My eyes could span every inch of the restaurant. I would also walk around to mix and mingle with our guests. I realized I had learned so much from Daddy on those precious Saturday nights we had together. I also had to admit, I owed a lot to Elliott. On those many occasions he was out, I would be the one to circulate.

“I noticed you’re having the special. What do you think?”

“I hear you’re celebrating an anniversary. Which one? I’ll send over something special and complimentary glasses of champagne. Thank you for celebrating with us.”

“Do you like the poached lobster? It’s my favorite dish.”

And always, but always, I would end with the most oft-heard question in a restaurant: “Did you save room for dessert?”

Several weeks in, I knew VERT was a success. It teemed with people and whirled with activity. It no longer looked dilapidated or sounded subdued but hummed with happy noise. About the same time, Annabel asked Henry and Griffin for an interview for her magazine. She had never interviewed them together. On Tuesday night, she looked in Griffin’s direction and said, “I’ll see you in the morning at ten o’clock. Don’t cancel on me again. It would be nice if Bailey was there.”

When she arrived at Griffin’s, it was clear that Annabel was not a morning person. Sunglasses covered her eyes, and she plopped down in a chair as one would at the end of an exhausting day.

“Annabel, can I get you some coffee?” Griffin offered. “And an apple scone?”

“Griffin, you’re an angel.” She flipped open her notebook. Griffin poured coffee into three of the green mugs I had given him, and we each saluted before Annabel got down to business.

“What are you wearing, and who makes it?”

“Brown corduroys. I have no idea.”

Annabel glanced up at me and I shook my head. She asked Griffin silly questions, but she also asked serious ones like, “Why revamp a successful restaurant?” Unexpected questions yielded unexpected answers.

“Who influenced you the most and inspired your love of food and libations?”

Without a breath passing, Griffin answered, “Easy. Hank Edgeworth. He was a true master.”