Jake winked at the interfering old lady in the dining room and sat down at the bar. Man, that water had been cold, even if
Harvest’s early lunch crowd’s muffled chatter filtered up the stairs to Claire’s office on the second floor. The sound barely registered in her worried mind
Claire didn’t loosen her white-knuckle grip on the omelet pan until Hank’s cruiser squealed into the parking lot five minutes later. By then, she’d
Claire Layton readied herself to placate a dragon. Not a real one, of course; that would be easy. But if Chef Carlos Alvarez had
