Chapter Two #2
She was ninety-nine percent sure he was joking.
Eighty-five percent? It was hard to tell, given his excessively earnest face.
As he reached the bottom step, she said, “Auntie Zee told me room two. Do I just take the key?” Calisa waved her hand at the wall of hooks with skeleton keys behind the reception desk.
“Also, do you have a hammer, nails, saw, wood, and knowledge of how to fix a broken porch?”
“You talked to her! Great!” He looked enormously relieved, also surprised. More surprised than she thought he should be. Then again, he probably knows how unfriendly his boss is. He added, “I was planning to fix the hole after it stops raining.”
“I think it stopped.” Crossing the lobby, she opened the front door and peered outside. “Sort of?” The rain pattered down in sparse drops, as if the sky were a dishcloth that was nearly wrung out. Out in the yard, the statue was sleek with water. Drops dripped from her outstretched hands.
He joined her in the doorframe. “Close enough.”
There was still an hour or two of daylight left.
Calisa had taken the earliest train she could so that she’d arrive with time to settle in.
Plus the sun set late this time of year.
She should have time to do a little carpentry before it was fully dark out.
How long could it take to patch a few broken boards?
“And yes,” Jack said, “if Auntie Zee said room two, then you should take the key for room two. But, um, don’t go into any of the other guest rooms, okay? Even if the keys are there. Not sure if she said so, but Auntie Zee is very particular about that. She assigns the room, no changes allowed.”
“Sure, no problem.” Calisa had no intention of wandering into random rooms. “Let me just change my shirt and socks and then I’ll be back to fix the porch.”
“Um, sorry about doubting you before, whether you’re supposed to be here.
I just…I didn’t know she’d invited you. She’s been pretty adamant about not hiring anyone new.
Dad’s asked lots of times. Usually she just grunts, but sometimes she launches into this impressive monologue about the importance of self-sufficiency.
She’s run this B&B for decades. She doesn’t want to let a stranger muck it up.
Not that you’re a stranger. You’re family.
Guess that makes it different.” He smiled at her, and it was like the sun coming out after the rain.
Wow, that was quite the smile. She wondered if she should tell him it was just a three-day probation.
On one hand, it was embarrassing that her own great-aunt didn’t want her to stay, but on the other hand, it was possible Jack could help convince her.
“She didn’t toss me out immediately, but she also didn’t agree to the full summer. Yet.”
The smile wavered. “So you know about the inn, right?”
“To be honest, no, I don’t know anything about working at a bed-and-breakfast.” She dropped her voice lower as she said that, in case Auntie Zee was listening.
If Ethan were here, he would have told her to project confidence.
He was a huge believer in blustering his way through any situation—it was one of the things she’d admired about him when they first met…
and despised about him at the end, when she was the one he was lying to.
But there was something about the way Jack was looking at her that made her not want to pretend to be more than she was.
“I was thinking if I can fix the porch, it would help with Auntie Zee, except I’ve never actually fixed a porch before.
” Or anything, really. There wasn’t much cause for carpentry in an apartment in Brooklyn.
Jack looked dubious, and she wished she could bring back that smile.
“I’m willing to try, though,” Calisa added. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
The pause went on longer than she liked. A lot longer. At last, he said, “Well, I can teach you how to fix a porch, if you’re really up for helping me. It’ll be easier with two people anyway. You hold the wood, and I’ll saw?”
“Deal.”
He still looked uneasy, and she was suddenly aware that they were standing side by side in the doorframe, inches from touching.
If she shifted her hand a little bit, would he smile?
Or would he flinch? “I’ll just…um…put my stuff in my room, change, and then…
um…meet you outside?” Calisa said, hating that she stumbled over half the words.
No, she told herself. Absolutely not. No rebound boys.
He’s a coworker. Just a coworker. Who happened to have a nice smile, when he decided to use it and wasn’t busy looking dismayed that she was here.
That was all. Last thing she needed was to invite more heartache.
“I’ll get the wood and tools.” Skirting the hole, he hopped down the steps.
She watched him for a moment as he headed around the side of the inn. She felt prickles on the back of her neck as if someone nearby was watching her. There was no one there, though. Only the statue. Raising her eyebrows at it, Calisa said, “Don’t judge me.”
The statue stood silent as rain pooled in her stone eyes and cupped hands.