Chapter 1 #2
Sitting down in the chair, I rub my hands over the arms. The worn leather is aged.
It’s possible that Grandpa Dean used this chair; it’s so old.
I’d ask him, but I’m sure that would lead to a long story about how things aren’t made like they used to be.
Just thinking about Grandpa Dean’s stories puts a smile on my face.
Pulling up the web browser, I get to work searching for a chair. I lose myself in reviews, lumbar support, and ergonomics. If I thought my eyes were crossed before, I’m really done now. With a sigh, I close out the browser without purchasing a new chair, just as a knock comes at my office door.
Looking up, I find my best friend, Bowen, standing there with a sexy smile.
Yes, we’re just friends, and yes, I think he’s sexy.
It’s a thing, I promise. Bowen is three years older than me and was once best friends with my ex, until he wasn’t.
He was there for me through the loss of my relationship, and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since.
He and his two other close friends, all of whom were best friends with my ex, stepped up for me in a big way, and when we lost our parents, all three of them were there, letting the Moran sisters cry on their shoulders and helping us pick up the broken pieces, day after day.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Bowen as he steps into my office.
“Can I not stop by and visit my best friend?” he asks, smirking as he takes a seat in the chair across from my desk and propping his long jeans-covered legs and dusty boots up on the corner.
“Don’t you have a bar to run?” I ask, twisting in my chair.
“I have people for that,” he tells me.
“Oh, I have people for that,” I mock. “Maybe I should call your people, and they can do the books for me,” I grumble.
“Bad day?”
“Just hump day. You know how it is.” I shrug.
“Sounds like you could use a break.”
“I took one earlier with my sisters. We ended up calling Baylor and had a nice little chat, even if they did give me a hard time.”
“About what?”
“This old thing.” I tap the arms of the chair. “It’s worn out, and my back has been killing me. I’ve been holding off because it was Dad’s, and the thought of letting it go… Yeah, I need a new chair,” I tell him.
His eyes soften. “He’d want you to have one. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I say, choking up. This always happens with Bowen. He’s been there for me for so many things since I was sixteen years old. “I’m going to move it to the corner and buy a new one. That’s what I was doing when you walked in. I was researching.”
“Find anything?”
“No, but I will,” I assure him.
“Let’s go grab some dinner. I’m starving.”
“Is that why you’re here? You want me to feed you? You know, you need to start offering some other options at the bar.”
He runs his fingers through his hair. “I know. It’s on the to-do list.”
“The joys of being a business owner.” I laugh. Bowen owns The Hideaway. It’s the only bar in Magnolia Ridge. He serves typical bar food, including wings, onion rings, fries, and fried pickles, but they’re all appetizers. I keep telling him he needs to expand his menu.
“Hey, Ellie—” Courtlynn steps into my office, but stops when she sees Bowen. “Oh, it’s you,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Baby Moran, always a pleasure.” Bowen smirks.
“Did you need me?” I ask my little sister. When she and Bowen are in the same room together, it’s like another world war is about to take place. He’s picked on her since she was a kid, and she’s hated him for it every single day.
“I just wanted to tell you that we’re full for the night. Sara was checking in three couples for the last three open rooms as I was leaving. We are officially at capacity.” She grins.
“Really? That’s great. Thanks for telling me. It’s not often we fill all fifteen rooms.”
“Yeah, I guess the Comptons are having a family reunion this weekend, and some of the family decided to come a few days early and visit a little longer,” Courtlynn explains.
“Sounds like a win for everyone.” I smile at her.
“Yeah, as long as you get along with said family,” Bowen points out.
Courtlynn rolls her eyes, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her they’ll stay that way—something Mom used to say a lot when we were growing up. It must have been hell to raise daughters all pretty close in age.
“No one asked you, Nichols,” Courtlynn spits.
“So testy. Have you eaten? Is your blood sugar low? Is that why you’re so cranky?”
“Whatever,” she says, turning her back to him to face me. “Are you going to be home for dinner? I was thinking of making Mom’s chicken and dumplings.”
Her voice changes just a bit. Nothing anyone else would notice, but I do.
Courtlynn was only sixteen when we lost our parents, and now, at twenty-five, she’s still kind of just…
floundering, I guess. She does anything that needs to be done at the inn or on the grounds of the estate.
She never complains, but she’s yet to find her thing.
Well, has yet to realize her thing.
We all know the kitchen is where she wants to be, but she can’t admit it. She used to cook with Mom, who ran the kitchen all the time, and that’s where her heart is. One day, she’ll figure it out, and when she does, I’ll gladly hand over the reins to her.
“Actually, squirt, I’m taking your sister to dinner tonight,” Bowen speaks up.
“Eww, really, Ellie?” Courtlynn leans her head to the side to study me.
“He asked, and you know we’re just friends,” I remind her.
“Thank the lord for small favors,” she mutters.
“I think Mom’s chicken and dumplings sound great. Bowen?”
“You know I’m down for Baby Moran to cook for me any day.”
“Careful, you might enjoy your last meal and never wake up.”
“Court!” I scold.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “Dinner’s at six. Come or don’t.” With that, she turns and walks out of my office.
“Do you have to antagonize her like that?” I ask Bowen.
He shrugs. “It’s our thing. Besides, she gives it back. This isn’t one-sided, Ellison.”
I heave a heavy sigh, because he’s right. These two have been at odds with each other for years, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
I point an index finger at him. “Best behavior at dinner, Bowen Nichols.”
He stands to his full height and salutes me. “Yes, ma’am. Now come on, I’m starving, and you’ve been sitting in that chair long enough.” He winks, and I laugh.
Grabbing my purse and my phone, we head out of the inn and down the drive to our family house on the property.
I was so close to moving out on my own when we lost our parents.
I’ve come to realize that dreams come and go.
They change as we grow, and I have zero regrets stepping up to be a parental figure to my younger sisters.
Leighton graduated that year, and Courtlynn was a sophomore.
Our grandparents offered, but I needed them to focus on the inn, to give me time to learn to step into my dad’s shoes.
There was a time when I was a young girl full of dreams of love and a happily ever after, and ideas of a life beyond Magnolia Ridge. That dream has since changed, and I know in my soul, this is where I’m supposed to be.