A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

the good kind. The kind two people produce on a summer night when they—”
    “That’s enough, Michel,” Olivia retorted. “Why don’t you focus your energy on cooking? I believe that is what I hired you to do.”
    Michel gave her a dreamy smile. “Tonight, my food will taste like nectar and ambrosia. Every drop will be filled with visions of Laurel, my muse. Beware, those who are brave enough to order my chocolate torte. It will be such exquisite torture!”
    Olivia shook her head. “You’re hopeless. I’m going out to seat our patrons. Try not to burn the place down while you wallow in inappropriate fantasies.”
    A party of four awaited her at the hostess podium and Olivia smiled at the mayor, his wife, and two children. “Sorry to keep you,” she said and led them back to the mayor’s favorite table.
    The mayor glanced around the nearly empty dining room and frowned. “Do you think the out-of-towners are all gone?”
    Olivia nodded. “They’ll be back for the Cardboard Regatta. I’m booked for three nights from five until eleven at night.” She swept an arm around the dining room. The flickering candlelight, the bud vases filled with sprays of wild chrysanthemum, and the pumpkin-colored napkin fans created an atmosphere of sophistication and warmth. “Your family and the couple enjoying the shrimp scampi linguini won’t be dining alone this evening. We’re expecting a decent crowd tonight, though some may cancel due to the inclement weather.”
    The mayor’s wife laughed. “You’re the only person in Oyster Bay who’d call a category three hurricane ‘inclement weather.’ ”
    “Ophelia’s been upgraded?” Olivia tried to recall the wind gusts of a category three. She didn’t need to tax her brain, however, as the mayor’s son looked up from his menu, rubbed at his glasses with his napkin, and spoke in the fluctuating voice of one on the cusp of puberty.
    “Wind gusts of one hundred eleven to one hundred thirty miles per hour,” he recited with a distant look on his young face. “Likelihood of structural damage to wooden structures, loss of immature trees and a few big ones too, flooding to structures along the coast, and damage from floating debris to structures near storm surge or flooded rivers. Power outages are definite, lasting from three to nine days depending on level of isolation. Estimated total cost is four hundred million. Expect a tax hike this year.” Upon finishing, he returned his gaze to the menu.
    “You are such a dork,” his sister said with a sneer. “Can I order my Coke now?”
    While his wife argued with their daughter over the perils of caffeinated beverages on the developing teenage body, the mayor begged Olivia to get him a dirty martini. Relieved to escape the argument brewing between the females at the table, Olivia sent a waitress to collect the rest of the family’s orders.
    At the bar, Olivia asked Gabe for the mayor’s drink. “He’ll be wanting several of those by this time Monday night,” a familiar voice said. Olivia turned and smiled at Flynn, remarkably pleased to see him. She knew that Flynn’s charm could help her set aside all thoughts of Rawlings and the man’s continued silence.
    Flynn regularly stopped by The Boot Top for a drink after work and managed to visit Olivia’s restaurant without ever behaving as though his presence bore the slightest connection to her. Olivia liked that about him. He could sit and chat with Gabe and the other patrons and then casually ask her to join him for a round. When she was too busy or not in the mood to comply, he was neither offended nor ruffled by the rejection. Yet he never failed to request her company and Olivia was flattered by his persistence.
    Flynn took in her form-fitting black sheath dress and necklace made of amber and turquoise and toasted her with a frosted beer mug. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”
    Olivia perched on the stool next to him. “Have your customers fled for the hills too?”
    “I could only be so lucky.” He took a sip of beer. “I had a hell of a time dealing with a woman channeling Mary Poppins today. She came into the shop with one of those frilly umbrellas and started singing. At first, the moms and kids loved it, but then it quickly became clear that this lady was no Julie Andrews. In fact, she was more like Cruella De Vil.”
    Olivia laughed. “You mean she didn’t fly or dance around with a pair of cartoon penguins?”
    Flynn shook his