Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
It was a Sunday night, and with the weekenders having already checked out, the inn was blissfully quiet as Hallie waited anxiously at the check-in desk. Eight o’clock had come and gone for Brynn Fitzpatrick, her newest employee’s, expected arrival time.
Regardless, whenever she got here, Hallie would be ready.
She hadn’t even let herself think about Brynn specifically, given her own internal woes.
She let out a long, exasperated sigh and looked at her computer screen for the tenth time in as many minutes.
God, she felt like such a mess. Reese had tasked her with one important job outside of the day-to-day management of the inn, which was to find another manager who could run the place in Hallie’s absence.
And she hadn’t been able to do it, which meant that Reese had swooped in and solved the problem for her.
It was a temporary solution, Reese had said yesterday, when she’d told Hallie the good news.
So, why did good news make her feel like there was a knot tightening in her chest?
Maybe because, now, there was no reason that she couldn’t go to Colorado over Christmas to visit her family.
And she’d clearly shown Reese that when push came to shove, she wasn’t as dependable at the big-picture things as Hallie wanted to believe she was.
Add in the fact that they were smack-dab in the brief lull between the fall and winter crowds, which meant she didn’t even have any pressing tasks to distract herself with as she eyed the clock in the lobby again.
Instead, she tried to focus her attention through the large window to her left, watching the flurries falling gently onto the patio.
There was a light dusting of snow on the trees outside, but this early in the year, it probably wouldn’t materialize into anything significant.
Which was a shame because it meant longer until the “quick getaway for hot chocolates by the fire” crowd rolled in for a snowy weekend.
The fall foliage enthusiasts had petered out weeks ago, but the ski resort crowd hadn’t picked up, especially since there hadn’t been a significant snowfall yet this early in December.
When Reese had excitedly called Hallie yesterday to tell her that Brynn would be joining the team, at least through the new year, Hallie could feel Reese’s smile through the phone, willing her to match her level of excitement at solving a problem that had been plaguing them both.
Instead, Hallie had tipped her head to the side, cradling her phone in the crook of her neck, and looked out through the window, just like she was doing now.
Standing still felt impossible, so she started scouring the main areas, looking for anything to keep her busy.
Sometimes, she felt like she only really existed as a person within these walls. Even when she was out and about in Stoneport, it was usually to do something for the inn. Tack on the fact that she lived on-site—and had for her whole life, in fact—and her world was woefully small.
Maybe it would have been easier if Reese had wanted to take over the owner’s quarters.
It would have forced Hallie to figure out what came next.
Which, she was realizing now, may not have been as bad as she’d thought when she’d been informed less than a year ago that her parents were selling the inn.
She could have found an apartment somewhere else—if she could afford it—and commuted to work every day.
But no. Reese and Sydney, the lovebirds moving at warp speed, had decided to move into a charming Cape Cod–style home about ten minutes away, situated a few miles up the coastline.
It was probably obscenely expensive. Charm didn’t come cheap in places like Stoneport.
So here Hallie was, with a way better deal than most people who worked in the hospitality industry had, fretting around the lobby area to make sure that the last plate of evening cookies was perfectly arranged.
After she confirmed that all cookies were as advertised, which required her to eat at least two of them for quality assurance, she moved over to the fireplace that acted as the centerpiece of the sitting room off the lobby.
All of the fireplaces had been converted to gas in the last decade, and even if it was much more convenient to manage, she missed the crackling and popping of wood burning.
Add it to the list of things that had changed, all while she lamented the good old days.
God, sometimes she felt closer to seventy than thirty.
Still, she could admit that it was nice to be able to keep the fireplace on until later, and it didn’t take long before she was hypnotized by the flickering flames. She sat down on one of the comfortable chairs situated nearby and relaxed. Tried to, at least.
Brynn helping out would be temporary, and her presence was a stopgap measure that would ultimately make it easier to hire someone who could start after the holidays and settle into a normal schedule.
Brynn could go back to… whatever it was she did, and Hallie could prove to Reese that she wasn’t completely useless in her new role.
The sitting room was warm and cozy, and Hallie finally felt her shoulders loosen up for the first time since Reese had called her yesterday.
She could do this. Everything was going to be fine.
“Hello?”
She heard a voice, along with what felt like a gentle hand on her shoulder. But that couldn’t be happening. Because right now, she was sitting in her Algebra II class, trying and failing to finish a test about matrices. Mrs. Bianchi would never be so kind.
“Hallie?” The voice came through louder, causing her to jerk.
“Mrs. Bianchi, I’m working here,” she mumbled, finding herself in a strange liminal place, where the room was far too hot for her Stoneport High math class. Maybe this was hell?
But, no. Hell, or high school—same difference—would never give her a chair this comfy. She’d slumped down in the plush wingback at some point and…
Shit.
She jolted upright at the same time she opened her eyes, meeting soft brown ones only a few inches away from her face.
But it was too late. She’d never been the type of person who roused gently.
Her body was already in motion as she tried to course correct too hard, once she realized that she’d, quite literally, fallen asleep on the job.
Her forehead knocked against what felt like the world’s softest cheek, and the woman let out a strangled whoosh of air once they connected.
Ms. Brown Eyes staggered backward, and Hallie felt like her stomach was about to jump out of her throat. She’d never assaulted a guest before.
God, she was so confused right now. There were no late check-ins tonight, she thought blearily, struggling to get it together. Why had she even been sitting out here anyway? Usually, she was back in her room by now, the front desk bell connected to an app on her phone to help guests after hours.
She shook her head. It didn’t matter how this situation had happened, only that it had.
“I am so, so sorry,” Hallie said, pushing herself out of the chair and standing over a woman who was just a smidge shorter than her.
She had blonde hair, and a soft, round face, tragically now with a red splotch where Hallie had collided with her cheek.
And then, the pieces all clicked into place.
Brynn Fitzpatrick, in the flesh. And Hallie had just committed bodily assault against her.
Her guilt mingled with something else—maybe apprehension?
—when she realized that this was the same woman who’d, according to Sydney and Reese in the world’s most epic retelling, aired all her ex-fiancé’s dirty laundry in a very, very public way.
She was, if the story was to be believed, not a woman whose wrong side you wanted to be on.
But Brynn looked like the picture of innocence right now, her big eyes wide as she looked at Hallie like Hallie was the one in need of assistance. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you knew I was coming.”
What a terrible first impression. Instead of dwelling on it, Hallie shook her tiredness away and pulled her black shirt down her torso, trying to smooth out any wrinkles.
It could always be worse. That was her life motto, and she was putting it to good use.
“Brynn,” Hallie said with more confidence than she felt.
“My catnap in front of the fire must have gotten away from me.”
Brynn subtly touched her index finger to her own cheek as she made eye contact. “I think you have a little…”
Hallie brushed her hand across her face and felt a small trail of wetness. More embarrassing evidence of her dream-filled nap. She cleared her throat and wiped it away quickly, ignoring the heat on her cheeks. “Uh, thanks.”
“I’m sorry I’m later than I expected. There was an accident on the highway, and I was stuck in traffic for over an hour.
” Not that anyone would be able to tell.
Brynn was entirely, unfairly put together, Hallie was realizing as she scanned her eyes across a sweater that was nicer than anything Hallie would wear to most events.
It looked soft. So, so incredibly soft. Probably cashmere.
And Brynn was weirdly tan for December? Hallie didn’t know why she’d noticed it, except that it made the soft gold of Brynn’s tousled hair pop even more.
Not a strand of that was out of place either, for the record.
She was so distracted that she’d forgotten to feel self-conscious about the falling asleep and the drooling and, honestly, just her general state of disarray.
That was, until her eyes trailed up Brynn’s collarbone—from the V-neck of that stupidly soft sweater—and their eyes met.
Brynn was looking at her in a way that was so disarming, it was like all of Hallie’s insecurities were on full display.