Angels at the Table (Angels Everywhere #7)(12)

He waved his arms and the thin veil that separated Earth from heaven’s view vanished. The three Prayer Ambassadors along with their apprentice intently watched through the clearing fog.

“What’s that?” Will asked.

“That’s Heavenly Delights,” Gabriel said. “Lucie and her mother opened the restaurant in April. It’s doing amazingly well. Lucie creates tantalizing desserts, and the restaurant has caused quite a stir in Brooklyn—and all without printed advertisement. Their success has come by word of mouth.” He wondered if any of them got his small pun. Apparently not.

“That’s wonderful.”

“Lucie puts in long hours. Her mother serves as the hostess. Wendy is warm and welcoming and makes their dinner guests feel as if they were coming into her home.”

“Heavenly Delights,” Goodness repeated. “What a perfect name for a restaurant.”

“Most everyone assumes the name comes from the wonderful desserts, which are said to be inspired,” Gabriel explained.

“You mean it doesn’t?”

“No.” He was quite pleased that the idea for the name had come from someone they all knew quite well. “Actually, another angel, a dear, dear friend of mine, happened to give it that name.”

“What friend?”

“I realize it must come as a surprise but amazingly I do have friends.”

“Of course …”

“Naturally.”

“It was Mrs. Miracle,” Gabriel said, grinning. “Because of Emily, Lucie got a last-minute catering contract just before Christmas a couple of years back. That event is what got the ball rolling with the restaurant.”

“And now the restaurant is a reality.”

“What’s that in the corner?” Will pointed to the refrigeration display unit close to the hostess table.

“That,” Gabriel said, “is a display case for Lucie’s sweet concoctions. Her desserts have become so popular that it’s difficult to get a reservation for dinner. Wendy—that’s her mother—came up with the idea of selling the desserts as a take-out item. The idea has worked exceptionally well.”

“When were Aren and Lucie scheduled to meet … originally?” Will wanted to know.

“In just a few days, Earth time.”

“How?”

“Well, they were never supposed to bump into each other, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Will did look wretched over all this. “I’d like to do what I can to make matters right.”

“And I’ll give you the opportunity.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

“Yes, thank you,” Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy echoed.

Gabriel sighed. He hoped he wouldn’t come to regret this decision. “Aren Fairchild works for the New York Gazette as the food critic who writes under the pseudonym of Eaton Well, which is a name owned by the newspaper.”

“Eaton Well,” Mercy repeated. “That’s clever.”

“He’s under contract not to reveal his identity. The Lifestyle editor finds up-and-coming restaurants for Aren.”

“Then he makes a reservation, dines there, and writes up a review without anyone at the restaurant knowing who their secret customer is,” Mercy said, thinking out loud.

“Exactly.”

Will looked crestfallen. “They were originally scheduled to meet at the restaurant, when Aren falls in love with the woman behind the fabulous desserts.”

“Not all matters like this go as planned.” Gabriel didn’t want to break the young man’s spirit. His heart was in the right place.

“What’s happening now?” Mercy asked, peering down into the kitchen.

“Let’s find out,” Gabriel said. With a wave of his arms, the conversation between Lucie and her mother suddenly became audible.

“Lucie,” Wendy said, stepping into the pantry.

Lucie sat on a crate of recently delivered supplies with a copy of the New York Gazette spread open. The instant she heard her mother’s voice, Lucie tried unsuccessfully to hide the newspaper.

Her mother paused and her shoulders sagged. “Oh, Lucie, you’re looking for Aren’s name again, aren’t you?”

Lucie couldn’t see any reason to hide the obvious. “It isn’t here. He must not have taken the job after all.”

Her mother’s smile faded. “I hate that I was responsible for you not meeting him that day. I can barely look at the Empire State Building and not think about the missed opportunity.”

“Mom, stop. It wasn’t meant to be.” She’d told herself that a hundred times and tried to believe it, although she hadn’t been able to get Aren out of her mind.

“But you still think of him.”

Lucie didn’t bother to deny it. She did think of Aren. As hard as she tried to forget him, it hadn’t worked. She couldn’t help wondering how long he’d waited for her that day. Had he stood in the cold, hoping she’d arrive with a logical explanation of why she was late? Did he regret that they hadn’t exchanged contact information the way she did? “If it’s meant to happen we’ll meet again.” She remembered her mother’s prayer and added one of her own.

“I came in to tell you every table is booked again tonight and we’re already getting reservation requests into the new year.”