Free License to Dill by Mary Ellen Hughes Page B

repeated itself several times that morning, with variations, before Amy finally arrived for her shift. When she walked in, stepping aside for two exiting, and still talking, women, Piper nearly cheered with relief.
    â€œBusy morning?” Amy asked.
    â€œNonstop. But chatter, not sales. Thoughts of pickling, apparently, do not go along with crime, which I suppose I should be grateful for. Oh, before I forget, Erin dropped a book off for you.” Piper hadn’t checked the title when she took it from Erin, and she glanced at it now.
The Ins and Outs of Running a Restaurant
. “Hmm. Something in the works?”
    Amy laughed. “I wish! But not for a good while. It’s my long-term goal. I’m getting the kitchen end down pat, working at A La Carte. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to start studying up on the business end.”
    â€œGood thinking.” As Amy dropped her purse and the library book behind the counter, Piper added, “Perhaps Carl Ehlers could have used some instruction in that department before opening up his pizzeria.”
    â€œI know. What he’s going through is exactly what scares me. I don’t want to sink a pile of money into a place and then watch it go down the drain. A lot goes into making a success of a restaurant beyond offering good food. There’s location, figuring out the right prices, good suppliers . . .” Amy shuddered.
    â€œWhere is Carl missing out, do you suppose?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Amy stopped tying the strings of the apron she’d put on to think. “His pizza is great, and I think the waitstaff generally do a good job.” She shrugged. “Customers can be fickle, though. One week yours is the trendy place to go to. The next week, who knows? It’s like everyone gets the memo, and something sends people elsewhere.”
    â€œSomething like a comment on the radio about health code violations at your restaurant?”
    Amy nodded vigorously. “If you’re in trouble already, that sure won’t help. Think anyone would want to patronize a restaurant once the image of a bug-infested kitchen is in their heads? I wonder why Conti did that.”
    â€œWho knows?” Piper said. But as she walked over to tidy up a display of seasoning jars, Piper thought the more interesting question might be how Carl Ehlers reacted to it.

    A my disappeared into the back room to start cooking up a green apple pectin stock from a batch of Granny Smith apples, and Piper stayed where she was, expecting a fresh onslaught of Cloverdale “news spreaders.” What she didn’t expect was Scott popping in, looking dapper in a sports jacket and shirt and tie over khakis.
    â€œHey, Lamb Ch—oops!” He grinned. “I mean, Piper. Guess what?”
    â€œWhat, Scott?”
    â€œI just signed the papers on my new office. It’s the one I told you about, down the block and next to the orthopedist. We’ll practically be neighbors! I’m celebrating. Want to go to lunch?”
    Piper stared at her ex-fiancé. She’d reached the end of her rope with him and it was time to shake him off it. “Scott, we have to talk.”
    â€œGreat. I have a nice, quiet place in mind for that, where we can also get a glass of wine to toast my new digs. Sound good?”
    â€œNo, not good.” Piper glanced outside her windows to see if anyone was heading their way. All looked clear. “I know when we talked the last time that I agreed to remain friends.”
    â€œUh-huh. And friends celebrate with friends, right?”
    â€œYou’ve been pushing it, Scott. Showing up at the soccer games, following Will and me to the restaurants afterward—”
    â€œFollowing?” Scott looked offended. “Your Aunt Judy specifically asked me to come along.”
    â€œAnd I’m going to have a talk with her, too. Of course she’d invite you along! Aunt Judy has always looked after