PublicBookshelf Book Club
Weekly tips on great novels to read.
Charity stood in the doorway and surveyed her empire with a certain sense of satisfaction. La Mer was a small but thriving restaurant. The lunch crowd had hardly evaporated before the tea crowd began to trickle in. The place was never empty, right up until long after closing when they often had to encourage the last of the lingerers to head for their cars. Her success was partly because the classic menu was good, but also due to the inviting atmosphere. People enjoyed eating at the La Mer. It was as simple as that.
The rest of her success was due to good employees, hard work and attention to detail-and that included the image the owner projected. Instead of the barefoot gypsy of the day before, Charity was a vision of cool professionalism. Her wild hair was tamed into a sleek French twist. Her gunmetal-gray wool suit and rose-petal crepe de chine blouse were muted and classic. Topping it all off were the tortoiseshell glasses, which added ten years to her age.
Cool. Composed. Capable. That was Charity Ames at work.
"Wonderful lunch, Miss Ames." The tall, distinguished-looking man nodded amiably as he passed her on his way out. "As always."
"Thank you, Mr. Vandenberg," she murmured, smiling at the well-known lawyer. "It's always a pleasure to have you and your colleagues."
The most important people in town patronized her restaurant. She grinned as she thought of it. What would Alan Grayson think if he could see her now?