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We started down the gradual steps side by side. “So if it’s not too personal of a question, what’ll happen between you two when Ava goes back to LA?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll go our separate ways.”
A few steps later, Knox paused, looked at me, and asked, “You gonna be okay with that?”
I looked from him down to Ava, who happened to glance my way at that moment. The smile she sent my way when she saw I was with her writing buddy was megawatt and made me feel like a million bucks. I smiled back at her, then said to Knox, with raw honesty, “I don’t know.”
He eyed me for two seconds longer, then said, “Let’s go grab a beer.”
I pushed down the discomfort from his previous question and followed him, telling myself I’d be just fine.
Chapter21
Ava
It was Friday afternoon, two weeks after Cash had organized the painting party, and what a busy, productive, wonderful two weeks it’d been.
I took the sparkling apple juice out of the inn’s fridge, popped the cork, and took down two champagne flutes. Though Aunt Phyl had never had a liquor license, I’d seen firsthand that the Diamonds liked cocktails and wine with their poker, so we had a full set of every kind of glass you could want. They would come in handy when we finally opened the bistro Cash and I had dreamed up. The bistro, along with the dock replacement, was part of the official phase two, which would likely begin in the spring.
I carried the bottle and glasses out to the front desk, where Anna Delfico, my hero and inn manager, who’d easily become a friend already, had just finished advising a checked-in couple on dinner options in town.
“We should work out some inn-exclusive discounts with the restaurants,” she said off-handedly, and this was exactly why I loved her. She was no stranger to hospitality, knew every crack and crevice of the town, was liked by literally everyone, and was brilliant on top of it all.
“Yes,” I said with emphasis as I set the glasses on the counter. “I hope you don’t mind this is nonalcoholic.”
“Not at all. What are we toasting? The end of computer training?” She brushed her caramel-colored hair out of her face and took hold of the base of one of the flutes while I poured.
I filled the second glass, picked it up. “I mean, that’s cheers-worthy too but we’re toasting to you.”
“Okay then.” She stood up straighter and grinned. “What did I do?”
“Only showed up exactly when I needed you with the exact skill set and personality I needed you to have. That’s all.”
She lightheartedly rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget you’re paying me well.”
“With pleasure.” I raised my glass. “Cheers to you, Anna. Because of you, I can go home tomorrow with full confidence that this place is in good hands, which means I can finally get back to writing.”
We clinked our glasses and sipped the cold, bubbly apple juice.
“We both have the opportunity to do what we burn to do,” Anna said. “This job is a dream for me. I liked my old job, at least until my ex-boss turned into an angry jerk at the end there, but this inn…our vision for it, the history, the fact that it’s in the town I love instead of across the lake… is perfect for me, so you shouldn’t give me too much praise.”
“You’re getting the praise, so deal with it.”
“Yes, boss.”
“And you’re banned from calling me boss,” I said, laughing. “You’re the boss, anyway. I have every bit of faith in you, so once you get comfortable, I trust you’re going to run it like you own it.”
“Mostly,” Anna said. “Consulting with you on the big decisions.”
When Anna and I had met the day after the painting party, we’d clicked. Her experience was a great match, and more importantly, I trusted her implicitly. I’d hired her on the spot, and she hadn’t even had to think it over. She’d accepted, with the condition she would give her employer two weeks’ notice. Except her boss had been pissed that she was quitting less than a week after going to a conference on his dime, to work at what he deemed a competitor, no less, so he’d asked her to leave immediately. You know, so she didn’t take all his trade secrets to the Honeysuckle Inn. As if.
His stupidity was my gain. Anna had started on Wednesday last week, just in time for the installation of the property management computer system. The inn had sprung into the twenty-first century, with key cards, a reservation system, and more. She and I, along with Sadie, Magnolia, and Deshon, had spent this week being trained on the system. We’d finished late this morning, as planned, and tomorrow I was heading back to LA for good.
In addition to the computer system, the roof had been replaced, the whole inn had been painted inside and out, and a lot of the smaller projects had been knocked out as well. Anna was meeting with Sierra North—and me via online conference call—in a couple weeks regarding sprucing up the interior while honoring the inn’s hundred-year-old roots.
The Honeysuckle Inn was poised to grow and flourish, and I couldn’t feel better about everything I’d gotten done in the past month, with lots of help, of course.
I hadn’t heard from Stream yet, but Willa was still optimistic. Most days, I was too. Even if I didn’t get that job, I was itching to get back to writing. I’d come up with multiple ideas for more screenplays. I’d been invited to a party at a big-name producer’s house in a couple weeks, and I knew it’d be crawling with writers and producers I wanted to meet and get face time with.
