I am half an hour early for brunch with Silas, tense already from strolling in on Lindy and his merry band of entrepreneurs. First issue jitters, I reckon, and with John sitting there, grasping to get it … well, I digress.
Cassie looks up from behind the bar as I walk in.
“Morning!” she yells, clearly caffeinated. “I am mixing some mimosas, just for something different. Can I pour you one?”
“Nah, not a fan,” I say. “How about if that something different is a cream sherry?”
Cassie nods. “One sec,” she says. “I have a nice one over here I’ve been meaning to try, fresh from Spain. Bitsy turned me on to it, says it’s her favorite when she flies. Can’t imagine it lasts ‘til afternoon.”
My first glass is very good and nearly gone when Silas walks in. Though we had not met in person, I had no trouble identifying him.
“Good morning, you must be Mercury,” Silas says, extending his hand. “I understand your family runs the Golden Pillar, where I’m staying. I’m surprised we are eating here.”
“Mercury McMurtry … and yes, the GP is our property, but just between us, eating here is far more comfortable. My mother, who you will no doubt meet at some point, tends to hover around the bar and dining room, making the rounds, telling tales. She has a way of getting deeply involved in anything – and anyone – that crosses its threshold …”
Silas smiles. “I’ll keep my ears to the ground,” he says.
“How did you make out looking at apartments this morning? I’m sure it’s a challenge to find something good, very convenient, and available.”
“Found a nice one, actually, across the street from the Courthouse,” he says.
“The jailhouse apartments? Really? That’s amazing. I’ve never been in any of those.”
By this point, I’ve run out of small talk. I turn toward Cassie. “I’ll have another,” I say, pointing to my glass. “Silas? You a sherry person?”
He shakes his head in Cassie’s direction. “Coffee, please. Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I push my glass forward. “I didn’t mean to …”
He shakes his head. “No worries, just not my thing. You go ahead.”
I decide light sipping is in order and ask Cassie for a glass of water.
Silas pulls an accordion folder from his briefcase and places it onto the bar.
“I have heard good things about you,” he says as Cassie places the coffee in front of him. “I have all the records from Theodora’s work and I’m thinking that step 1 is for me to go through the records in detail – you’re welcome to join me in that effort.”
“I think it best if I do,” I say, the sherry starting to kick in. I sip the water feverishly. “I do know their backstories, for better or worse.”
It’s clear that each of us is sizing up the other. My initial assessment: Very capable, smart, a clear thinker with a plan. A lot like me, or the way I used to be.
Looks like we should be able to work together.
Immediately, he begins asking about nitty-gritty details. He dominates the conversation with question after question, absorbing everything about the town, the people, and especially about Mercury’s mother, Bitsy.
“I’d like to meet with Bitsy if you can arrange it.” He obviously has already determined that Bitsy is a force to be reckoned with.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea at all,” I respond. “It’s too soon. Give it a few weeks. You’ll just have to trust me … she has a way of getting deeply involved very quickly and taking control. Do you agree?”
Silas nods but I’m not sure he is convinced.
He asks me to refrain from sharing our work with Lindy, my husband, and especially with Bitsy. This makes perfect sense and I have no problem with it, but, I tell him, I’m sure it will get awkward.
We finish our meal and he pays. Great food but I opted against a third glass of sherry. I walk to the Courthouse with Silas to check out what he calls “the office,” including the air quotes.
This will do for now, he says. We agree to start using the office immediately tomorrow. Meanwhile, Silas has apartment details to tend to and leaves. I walk back to the LadyLux, hoping not to run into Lindy and his posse. There is much to think about.
Jenny Page