Grand Passion

not expected to encounter. But, then, nothing was going quite as he had anticipated here at Robbins' Nest Inn.
    “Now, then, as I was saying,” Cleo continued blithely, “if you're an artist like Jason, you'll probably enjoy the arrangement I had with him.”
    Max raised one brow. “What, exactly, are you offering?”
    “The same salary I gave Jason plus room and board any time you're staying with us in exchange for the kind of odd-job work you were doing tonight. I promise you'll get plenty of time to yourself to paint. You can have Jason's old room in the attic. It's quiet and comfortable. Jason liked it.”
    Room and board but not her bed, then. At least not yet. “I'm not exactly a starving artist, Ms. Robbins.”
    “I know that.” Cleo smiled gently. “But there are a lot of different ways to starve, aren't there? You're a friend of Jason's, and that's all that matters.”
    “I'm not sure I would make a good Antony,” Max said dryly.
    “Huh?” A second later Cleo's face turned a charming shade of warm pink. “Oh, I get it. I'd better warn you that we have one ironclad rule around here. No Cleopatra cracks and absolutely no asp jokes.”
    “I'll try to remember that.”
    “So? Are you interested?” Cleo gave him an inquiring look.
    The sense of unreality that had gripped Max earlier returned. He stared at Cleo for a long while, and then he made his decision.
    What the hell, he thought. He had to find out what had happened to his Luttrells, and it wasn't like he had anything or anyone waiting for him in Seattle. Jason had sent him in this direction for a reason. Max decided he might as well follow the yellow brick road to the end.
    Another turning point, he thought. And as usual, he had no reason to go back.
    “As it happens,” Max said, “I've just lost a job. I'll take the deal you gave Jason.”

Chapter

2

    A ndromeda, these muffins are out of this world.” Cleo popped the last of the hot muffin into her mouth and chewed happily. “As usual.”
    Andromeda, the head chef of the Robbins' Nest Inn, smiled serenely. All of Andromeda's smiles were serene. She was heavily into metaphysical studies. “I'm glad you like them, dear. It's a variation on the corn bread recipe Daystar's been using for the past few months. You know Daystar. She can't stop experimenting.”
    “The old recipe was terrific, too, but this one is even better. The guests are going to love these little suckers.” Cleo scooped up another corn bread muffin and slathered it with honey.
    She hastily devoured it as she surveyed the busy kitchen. Andromeda's staff, all middle-aged and all members of the Cosmic Harmony Women's Retreat, were an industrious crew.
    The arrangement between the inn and Cosmic Harmony was simple and lucrative for both sides. Andromeda and her team provided first-rate seafood and vegetarian cuisine for the inn's guests that was unmatched anywhere else on the coast. In return Cleo paid the Retreat a portion of the inn's profits and agreed not to force the women into standard white kitchen uniforms.
    Andromeda and her friend, Daystar, were the cornerstones of the inn's kitchen staff. Other members of Cosmic Harmony came in at varying times, depending on who was available and what skills were needed. This morning Cleo recognized Nebula and Constellation hard at work. One was preparing muesli, and the other was slicing sourdough whole wheat bread. The women at Cosmic Harmony generally adopted new names when they came to the Retreat. Some stayed for a few days, weeks, or months. Others, like Andromeda and Daystar, were permanent residents.
    All of the women at work this morning had the sleeves of their long, jewel-colored gowns secured above their elbows. Their bright head scarves and strange bronze and silver necklaces added an exotic touch to the kitchen.
    The latest edition of the guidebooks had recently begun citing the cuisine at the Robbins' Nest Inn as one of the best reasons to visit the Washington coast in winter or any other time of the year.
    For Cleo, the women from Cosmic Harmony provided something much more important than a money-making restaurant; they provided friendship and a place to go when she needed peace and serenity. She often went to the Cosmic Harmony meditation center after one of the recurring nightmares that plagued her from time to time.
    The Retreat, situated on a magnificent stretch of land overlooking the ocean, had once been an exclusive golf resort. The resort had failed