CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY EIGHT – RELIABLE HANDS

A smattering of startled chuckles greeted the bald command, quickly swelling into a chorus of ragged laughter and raucous cheers. In a matter of minutes, the very air itself seemed to shift and settle, the former atmosphere of palpable disquiet giving way to something lighter and infinitely more palatable. As the patrons' rambunctiousness reached its familiar fever pitch once more, Mr. Davies turned his attention to where Charlotte and Tony stood rooted in place, their expressions mirror images of stunned disbelief. His weathered features softened ever so slightly as he regarded them, the ghost of a lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well?" Mr. Davies prompted, his tone gruff but tinged with a surprising undercurrent of warmth. "You two weren't planning on standing around with your gobs hanging open all night, were you?" His words seemed to break the spell of stupefaction that had temporarily rendered Charlotte and Tony immobile. The chef was the first to recover,