The Talk of the Town

Excerpt from the next book in the Peachtree Cove series

Tracey Thompson really wanted to hit something. If only she could pin a picture of her soon-to-be ex-husband’s face to the punching bag hanging in her brother’s garage and let herself go. He was the reason her life was in shambles right now. He was the reason she’d had to hire a new desk clerk for her bed-and-breakfast, the Fresh Place Inn,instead of continuing with the perfectly capable and mostly reliable front desk attendant who’d worked for her before. Too bad the reason she was only “mostly” reliable was because of that teeny, little slip of getting pregnant by Tracey’s husband. So rather than have someone who could actually do the job at her side, Tracey had to tap into her very limited reserve of patience to make sure that Jessica, the new, unreliable and completely unmotivated desk attendant, didn’t enter the wrong key for the nice couple waiting to check in.

Tracey tried not to be a micromanaging, demanding boss. She’d been very optimistic when she’d shown Jessica what needed to be done on her first day three months ago. She’d held on to that optimism when, two weeks later, Jessica said she had no idea what she’d done with the checklist that outlined everything she needed to do for guest registration and check-in. She’d even held onto her optimism three weeks after that when Jessica spilled her cappuccino on the keyboard for the fifth time, asking for another replacement keyboard before mentioning she needed another copy of the checklist because she “must have left it somewhere.” Despite Jessica’s tendency to forget everything she was taught and her inability to keep beverages in a cup, she was a body behind the counter and Tracey needed someone—anyone—to help her manage registrations.

Which was why she was once again trying to be patient as she watched Jessica ignore the newly printed checklist right next to her at the front desk and apologize halfheartedly to the waiting guests, claiming that “she was still new” and “hadn’t been trained on the system yet.”

Tracey took a long breath and clenched her teeth. She could go rescue Jessica, but she was pretty sure that’s exactly what Jessica wanted. The instructions she needed tended to “magically disappear” whenever Tracey was around, and she’d call Tracey to help her figure things out.

Yep, Tracey really wanted to hit her soon-to-be ex-husband in the face. It was all his fault. She wouldn’t be dealing with Jessica if Bernard had kept his dick in his pants instead of sharing it with her previous employee, Monique. Worst of all, Monique had been perfect. She’d implemented the new booking system to make online registrations easier. She’d been courteous and friendly with all the guests. She’d been Tracey’s right hand at the inn from the day she’d opened the door.

If only she hadn’t also been screwing Tracey’s husband on a regular basis.

A hand patted her shoulder. The familiar scent of butter and cinnamon wafted over Tracey before she was pulled into a side hug. Shirley Cooke, the woman responsible for all the meals at theFresh Place Inn, and Tracey’s left hand when Monique had been her right.

“Stop scowling,” Shirley said in her warm slow drawl. She was shorter than Tracey and older by a decade. Her pecan brown skin was lined around the eyes and mouth from her frequent smiles.

Tracey sighed and forcibly relaxed her face. “I’m not scowling.”

“Yes, you are. What’s wrong now?”

Tracey had watched Jessica fumble with the guests from around the corner of the hall that led to the kitchen. She motioned in that direction with her head. “Jessica.”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “She’s still struggling?”

“Yes.”

“Does she have the checklist?”

Tracey nodded. “She does, and she hasn’t picked it up once. I’m going to have to go help her.”

Tracey moved but Shirley’s arm around her shoulder tightened. “No, you don’t. If you go help that girl, she’ll never learn.”

Jessica was far from being a girl. She was six years younger than Tracey’s thirty-five. Maybe she would have been more patient if Jessica was nineteen instead of twenty-nine. At least then she could blame some of her laziness on youth.

“She hasn’t learned in three months.”

“If you have to do her work, then what do you need her for?” Shirley’s question was rhetorical and often repeated.

“I need her because reservations are up now that Peachtree Cove got the Best Small Town designation. We’re full almost every week, not to mention the reservations for weddings and birthday parties. I can’t afford to let her go.”

Shirley grunted before shaking her head. “That’s just what you’re telling yourself. You can find someone else.”

“I don’t have the time to look.”

“So you’re going to work yourself to the bone by managing this place and doing Jessica’s job. While you’re at it, can you come and cook for me?” Tracey cut her eyes at Shirley, who just cut them back before grinning. “What? You don’t want to also handle the food?”

“First of all, you don’t want me in your kitchen. I’ll mess everything up. Second, I’ll deal with Jessica. I just need to get through wedding season.”

Shirley let Tracey go and threw up her hands. “Wedding season is a long time. Go on. Go help the girl. I saw another car pull up so it might be the other guests for the carriage house.”

Tracey placed a hand to her chest and took a long, calming breath. “This is a good problem. This is a good problem.” She chanted to herself.

Shirley patted her back. “It is. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Shirley,” Tracey said before going into the reception area to help Jessica.

She didn’t know what she would have done if she didn’t have Shirley there. Shirley had kept things together while Tracey’s personal life imploded. She’d made breakfast, lunch and dinner for the guests on time and to perfection. She was always there when Tracey needed her and ran her kitchen like a five-star general. Without Shirley reminding Tracey every day that she couldn’t just give up her dream because her husband and employee were assholes, Tracey might have closed the inn. She still wondered how she’d gotten there. How she’d actually opened a bed-and-breakfast and was somehow keeping it going. Not many people had expected much of Tracey, including her parents. A part of her was still waiting for things to go wrong. Her failed marriage was strike one. Strike two and three had to be coming.

She slid up next to Jessica. “Is everything okay here?” Tracey asked sweetly.

Jessica sighed and turned to Tracey with a relieved smile. “Ms. Thompson, thank goodness you’re here. I can’t figure out how to pull up their reservation.”

Tracey kept the smile on her face despite the strong urge to roll her eyes. She looked at the guests, a married couple who’d thankfully remained congenial while Jessica fumbled their reservation. “Sorry for the wait. We’ll get you checked right in.” She reached for the checklist right next to the iPad with the reservation app.

Tracey pointed to the first step in the checklist. “First let’s input their last name here.”

Jessica nodded and watched Tracey with wide, clueless brown eyes. Tracey’s smile slipped. Jessica wasn’t clueless. The woman had graduated from the University of Georgia with a hospitality degree. Tracey had given her the job after someone in the Peachtree Cove Business Guild mentioned their friend’s brilliant daughter had just graduated and needed a place to work and recommended her to Tracey. Tracey, struggling after losing Monique in such an embarrassing way, had interviewed Jessica without bothering to check her references and hired her on the spot. A mistake she wouldn’t repeat. No, Jessica wasn’t clueless. She was brilliant. She could teach a class on how to feign ignorance, and play the damsel in distress, so others would do your work. Tracey knew what Jessica was up to, but, again, she needed someone there and some help was better than no help.

Sighing, Tracey turned back to the couple. “Last name, please.”

“Davis,” the man said.

Nodding, Tracey input their name and proceeded to quickly pull up their reservation. Jessica pretended to watch, but when the second couple came in, she gave up pretense and moved aside to start scrolling through her phone. Tracey got both couples registered, gave them the keys to their room and then walked them around the inn to explain where the rooms were, when food was served and how their access to the grounds worked. Thirty minutes later, she went back to the reception area to go through the checklist once again with Jessica, except she was nowhere to be found.

Instead, a man leaned against the reception desk. Tracey would recognize his profile anywhere and she cursed.

“Shit, Brian, my bad.” She rushed over to the desk.

Brian Nelson straightened and turned to face her. His face was a mask of boredom. His usual expression, as if everything in the world was so far beneath his interest. He was tall, with dark brown skin, piercing black eyes, and curly hair cut into the sharpest fade she’d ever seen. In short, Brian was a pretty boy. Or at least that’s how she’d always viewed him in high school. When he’d moved back to Peachtree Cove and opened a nursery, of all things, she’d been surprised he would bother getting his hands dirty.

“You doing Jessica’s job again?” he asked in a deep lazy drawl.

Tracey narrowed her eyes. “You minding my business again?” She hated it when he pointed out the obvious. Something he tended to do often and only with her.

Brian tapped the watch on his wrist. Not the expensive ones he wore when he got pretty boy fine and she’d see him at the bar or out with a woman—he was always with some new woman—but an older watch with a worn leather strap. It matched the worn jeans that sagged just enough to make him look interesting, dirty Henley shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and muddy Timberland boots. He must have come from moving shrubs for another job.

“It’s my business when you keep me waiting.” He spoke in his “you should know this already” tone.

Tracey also hated that tone. It unnerved her and made her feel like he was judging. So, she did what she always did when Brian Nelson judged her: she pretended as if she didn’t care.

“Whatever.” She waved a hand. “Did you bring what I need?”

He raised a brow. “I’m here to go over the plans for the wedding so you can tell me what you need. Have you picked anything yet?”

Tracey was speechless. Then she cursed and slapped her palm to her forehead. “Damn, my bad. I forgot to give you that.”

Between Jessica, the lack of help, and navigating her upcoming divorce she was forgetting to do a lot of things. She wouldn’t focus on that now. She would get her life together, but first, she needed to make sure the wedding this weekend went perfectly. She needed shrubs from Brian’s nursery to make that happen.

She lightly slapped his arm. “Come on out back and let me show you the setup.”