Page 12 of Wateredge

“Oh, bring that bowl of soup, and Deryn, your bread. This girl needs food. I can see hunger from a mile away.”

The sisters disappeared, and suddenly Lark found herself in the grasp of a very astute gaze, watching her with a perceptiveness she did not appreciate. ‘Can see hunger’ was already way too close to home.

She pulled the covers a little higher up her chest, despite being fully clothed underneath, squirming a little under the older woman’s unblinking examination .

It was Seren who brought the soup and the steaming bread—leftover, my ass. Lark would bet her last dollar Deryn baked the loaf fresh just a few minutes ago to make sure her aunt had the best before the storm really settled in. The love in their faces for this woman had been palpable.

Seren gave her a long, careful look and then handed Victoria the food before making herself scarce. Lark immediately wanted to ask her to come back.

Something might’ve shown on her face, some kind of tell, some kind of shadow of emotion, because Victoria followed her gaze and winked.

“You have good taste, songbird.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lark blurted a little too fast. Victoria hummed and passed her the steaming bowl.

“Lobster bisque.”

Lark accepted the food, her hands closing over the clay instinctively, inhaling the aroma. It was divine. There was no other way to describe it.

“It’s winter though…” she mumbled before spooning up the goodness, and once it hit her tongue, she just closed her eyes and savored. Rich, velvety, buttery, and decidedly decadent. She had never had anything like it in her life. It was perfect in every savory note.

“I guess this answers my question about finding employment at the Tavern.” She heard her own words sound rueful but could not bring herself to care. Not when the bread called her name and large chunks of lobster beckoned.

“Hard to say yet.” Victoria watched her eat with the expression of someone observing a feral animal. Lark lowered her spoon.

“No, no, eat.” Victoria poked her thigh as she settled on the bed next to her, motioning with her chin toward the food. “Maria at the Astronomy Resort said you were going to be interviewed for the dishwasher position.”

Lark nodded, spooning more soup. The mechanics of very small communities were sadly familiar to her. Someone like Victoria, a prominent business owner, could find out literally anything about her movements on the island with one phone call—probably a text. She chose not to resent it. Systems worked the way they were designed to. Small towns were very much such systems.

“So why not the Tavern?” Victoria’s question carried no weight with it. It was simple, straightforward, and yet Lark felt it take shape in the small room, settling next to her on the bed.

“Michelin star. And even if I didn’t know about the star, the food is…” She couldn’t help herself, spooning up more soup. “I don’t have the words to describe it. It’s amazing.” She took a small bite of the bread and sighed in pleasure.

Victoria smiled, the amusement reaching her eyes.

“And yet you felt less intimidated by the Astronomy Resort kitchens?”

“Never tasted their food,” Lark said between bites. Victoria’s smile grew.

“Cheeky. I like cheeky. But an overthinker. Tell me what you taste.”

Lark raised her face to see herself being assessed through narrow eyes. She took a long breath and focused on the bowl in her hands. She inhaled again, the smells speaking to her just as much as the flavors.

“Sweetness of the lobster meat, brininess from the roasted shells. Butter, of course. And skill.” Lark knew her own smile was nothing like Victoria’s amused one.

“And yet… It’s not all about skill. Some of it is instinct. And some of it is just magic.”

Victoria extended her hand, and Lark deposited the now-empty bowl in it, the room suddenly filling with the sounds and smells of a bustling kitchen, broths and herbs, notes of rosemary, echoes of basil.

“What—”

She sat up in bed only to be pushed back by Victoria’s firm hand.

“Rest. The bathroom is through there. Florinda assumed you ran out of money and so checked out before your interview. Your car is a wreck, but once the storm ends, Seren and Deryn will help with it, and Henderson will pay for the repairs if he knows what’s good for him and he wants tourists to keep visiting his store. One jinx and he’s finished as a shop owner.”

At Lark’s wide-eyed stare, Victoria chuckled.

“Don’t worry about any of this. You’re tired, probably imagining.”