Return To You: A Small Town, Second Chance Romance

13. Grace

thirteen

Saturday morning, I go straight to the spa without stopping at Easy Monday. I’m taking no chances. I don’t want to risk seeing Ethan. Or Amy. Or anyone.

The lights are on when I enter, door unlocked, classical guitar playing softly through hidden speakers, the soothing scent of beeswax candles and essential oils instantly calming my nerves.

Claudia is nervously arranging magazines on the small tables in the big room. “Grace. What are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure something out. Coffee?”

“But—they’re coming in thirty minutes! What are we going to do about the clients?”

I stop at the coffee machine. “Who? What are you talking about?”

She puts her fists on her hips. “You didn’t listen to your messages.”

My messages. My phone? No. No, I did not. I stupidly pull out my phone out and see I have twelve voicemails and fifteen unread text messages.

Weirdly, nothing from Mom.

Skimming through the text messages, I can tell they all have to do with the sale of the building.

A cold anger fills me. “Who’s coming in thirty minutes?”

Claudia twists her hands. “A realtor. With a client.”

A realtor has the nerve to come visit my spa on a Saturday? Without asking me politely first? “When’s our first client?” I already know the answer, but since I already missed what amounts to the Apocalypse, checking with Claudia seems wise.

“At ten.”

That gives us two hours.

I group text my friends.

Me

ur needed ASAP. Bring ideas.

My phone rings immediately. Alex. “Finally,” she says when I pick up. “I have bad news and more bad news. Which one do you want first?”

“Very funny. Are you in your car?”

“Yes. You said to come over and bring ammo, so I’m stopping at Easy Monday’s.”

Thank god. “You’ll tell me the news here.” I hang up and turn to Claudia.

“You know what’s really weird? That no one was worried last night when I wasn’t picking up.”

Claudia reddens. “They um—we…” she clears her throat. “Word got around that maybe you and Ethan had gotten into a disagreement. And so the… the general consensus was to leave you be. For now. But then the realtor left a message on this phone,” she says, pointing to her desk, “and we…”

“I could have been injured in my home! No one was worried?”

Claudia’s redness is now bordering on crimson. “Your—your mom went by your place, and she assessed that you-you-you just needed a little time.”

Great.

Did she actually look through the window?

Well, at least they were worried.

None of this dying alone at home business for me. Yet.

I pull out the lease agreement again, then put it back into the filing cabinet. There’s no time for me to read over it at this point. I look around, at a loss as to what to do right now.

The front door chimes and Kiara comes in, carrying four huge pink boxes. She passes them to Claudia, dashes to her car and comes back with… what is she doing with my mug? How did she even get it?

“Maple Kiss for you, and double chocolate mousse brownies, chocolate eclairs, and chocolate tartlets, apple cinnamon donuts, and chocolate donuts for the Bitch Brigade.”

The Bitch Brigade?

Claudia opens the pastry boxes next to the coffee station and sets a stack of flowery napkins next to the pastries. “That’s a lot of chocolate,” she says as she sets more napkins on the side tables.

“How did you get my mug?” I ask Kiara.

She fusses with her signature pink boxes, arranging them on the console, moving mugs around to make more space. “Dark chocolate is required in times of crisis. Helps with heart rate and mood and even cognitive—”

“How did you get my mug?” I repeat louder.

“Well they better not stain the armchairs,” Claudia mumbles, setting more cocktail napkins throughout the spa.

“How did you get—”

“Colton,” she says as if that’s an answer. Then she hugs me and looks me in the eye. “Good to know it’s still your mug and also that you’re not throwing it in my face.”

“Why would I do that?”

She lifts her shoulders. “Eh… the jury was out. After last night.”

Can I please get a break? “I don’t want to hear about Ethan and Amy at the Growler,” I snap.

Claudia, out of napkins, grabs a dusting cloth and runs it haphazardly on perfectly clean surfaces.

Kiara frowns. “The fuck are you talking about?”

Oh.

“Your brother drove a weeping Ethan back home last night,” Kiara continues. “From Lazy’s. Where he was very much alone and totally getting on everyone’s nerves.”

“Weeping?”

“The dude version of weeping. Drunk and talking in circles about you.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh please.”

Kiara shrugs. “Who cares anyway?”

Claudia stops her dusting. “I’m with Kiara. We have bigger problems to solve than… men. And that’s saying something.”

“Agreed,” I say. And still, holding the mug with Ethan’s handwriting on it makes me… all fuzzy and warm. Close second to the knowledge that he spent the evening and the night alone.

“Girl, we’re going to need you to focus,” Kiara says, snapping me out of my dreamy state. “We do not want to lose the spa.”

“You’re going to have to tell us what to do,” Claudia agrees, and checks her watch. “Fifteen minutes. Oops, here they come!”

I glance outside, expecting to see the realtor with one or two people. Instead, I see a line of cars pulling alongside the curb, my girlfriends coming out with cousins, sisters, mothers, daughters. Others are arriving by foot.

A loving mob is marching down on A Touch Of Grace, Alex leading them.

While Claudia holds the door open for them, Alex takes three steps up the staircase, then calls everyone to attention. Claudia closes the door and keeps an eye out for the realtor.

“Listen up!” Alex says. “We don’t have time to brainstorm, so here’s what we’re going to do right now. You’re to pretend this is an open house, you’re serious buyers, but you’ve already either noticed or heard from reliable sources that this house has problems. Think leaking roof, black mold, ancient plumbing.” She turns to me. “Any real problems we should throw in there?”

I point to my chest. “The tenant doesn’t pay her rent on time.” Total lie, like the rest.

Alex makes a sad face. “The bad news is, from my intel, the people visiting in… a few minutes, are looking for a place for them to move into. As a home.”

Shit. That means they can break the lease. “There are rotten planks on the deck that broke three weeks ago?” That might not deter a buyer. “Makes the case for deferred maintenance,” I venture.

“Good point, let’s lean on that,” Alex says, then claps her hands. “Alright everyone! Now please spread out and play the part. Remember that you do not know one another, and you do not know Grace. The buyers are flatlanders.” She steps down to my level and adds for me, “We’ll deal with the realtor later.”

“I could sue you for this,” he tells me once his buyers and my friends are gone. His face is red and sweaty.

“Me? Why?”

“You-you-you organized all this.”

“All what? This is a small town. Word got around that you were showing the house this morning. They were kind enough to come before the spa was open—I even provided little cakes and stuff!”

He wags his finger at me. “I’ll pay for a house inspection myself. This house will sell in no time once my buyers see the report. Start packing your lotions.”

“Maybe if you tell the seller to repair the deck it’ll get done? Be a shame if someone got hurt through their negligence.”

He slams the door on his way out, looking furiously at all my friends who took refuge in their cars but didn’t leave. He’s barely around the corner when they all come back in.

Cassandra leads the charge. “We need a plan. Any ideas?”

Autumn takes a mini chocolate éclair from the box Kiara is passing around. “A fundraiser?”

Several women voice their approval.

“For what?” Kiara asks, handing me a double mousse chocolate brownie.

“To help Grace buy the building.”

Oh wow. They would help me buy the building? That is not happening, but I’ll take all the love and support from where that intention is coming from. “Guys, that’s super generous, but no. I can’t accept charity for my spa. All I need is help finding another location. Does anyone have leads?”

“The old schoolhouse up Hunger Hill?”

“Too small.”

“The Chandler’s barn next to Dewey’s Brook? Heard someone was interested in buying it to move it to LA.”

“No water or electric.”

“There’s some rental space on Allen Block, upstairs.”

My heart sinks. An upstairs location on a busy street is not what I was hoping for, but if all else fails…

“We could always do pop-up spas at one another’s homes for a while,” Haley says. “I could see if Mom can offer up the farm for an afternoon to kick it off.”

“I could coordinate,” Claudia says.

“That could actually be fun,” Autumn says. “I’d donate props and my time to decorate the space.”

That’s lovely and creative and thoughtful, but my friends don’t realize how much equipment is actually involved in running a high-end spa like mine. Just the pedicure stations and the state of the art, all-in-one facial station I use can’t be moved from place to place like I did with my portable massage table for the fair. Needing time to think on their ideas as well as absorb the love coming my way, I plop the whole brownie in my mouth.

Chloe, Justin’s new girlfriend, steps up. “How about a subscription? You ask people to buy a monthly facial or mani-pedi or massage subscription, you give them a discount for committing for a year, and a deeper discount if they pay a year in advance.”

Smart.“That would give me some cash,” I say, my mouth still full.

Cassandra seems to think on that. “Nothing like what you’d need to buy the place outright, but…”

“Maybe enough to get a local bank to talk to you?” Haley offers.

Cassandra narrows her eyes on me. “You know, if you want to go for it, I’ll contact my mailing list. You might get a lot of new clients too. I don’t know why we haven’t thought of that before!”

Cassandra’s clientele is high end. They’re from New York, Boston, and Montreal, and they come to Emerald Creek to have a private retreat… and do some quality shopping at places like Cassie’s lingerie boutique. I squeeze her hand. “That would be fantastic.”

Cassandra takes the stack of brochures Claudia is already handing her. “I’ll hold onto these until you have your subscription figured out,” she tells me.

“I’ll start working on that,” Claudia says.

“I’ll help you,” Alex tells her. Turning to me, she adds, “You should reach out to your clients and tell them what’s going on. Reassure them that no matter what, A Touch Of Grace will always be available to them in Emerald Creek. You don’t want false rumors to spread, and you never know—someone might come up with another idea.”

They leave one by one, hugging me tight and reassuring me that all will be okay.

And it will.

I know it will.

Because with friends like them, how could it not?

The morning starts busier than usual. We have walk-ins of people eager to support the spa with a side of gossip, and I’ll take it all. Luckily, all my staff is on deck. No last-minute childcare issue, breakup drama, uncooperating cars. Cheyenne is early, and she takes a walk-in for a simple manicure before her normal start time. Hope and Shanice brought chocolate maple candies to give to their guests after their facials. And Fabrizio, our hair and makeup artist, hugs me then declares, “After I get all these bitches ready for their wedding, you’re mine. Clear your evening.” Which doesn’t mean what you might think—simply that he’s decided I need the indulgence of the best hairdresser in the state (his claim to fame).

We have so much demand on Saturday, that I tell Claudia to open my scheduling for Sunday. A Touch Of Grace is open every day, but I let my staff decide if and which Sundays they want to work. As for me, I usually reserve my Sundays for my family, but right now? I can use all the business and all the distraction from the rest of my life.

Taking the last sip of coffee from the mug Ethan gave me, I take comfort in the knowledge that I’ll always have Emerald Creek.

Even if I’ll never have him.

When my phone rings and it’s Lucas telling me the guy he sent to fix my closet door thinks Damian is sick and should see the vet, I see that as a sign that my small town and the universe will always have my back.

Then I rush home.