Chapter 9 #2
It informed me that not only was Monica Barbour a verified host but also that her new listing had gone out in this afternoon’s newsletter.
Fair Winds was officially live.
THE NEXT DAY, GRIFF WAS INCREDULOUS. “YOU said no to them?” he asked. “Audrey, why would you do that? Aunt Lynn would say that’s an incredible first catch. I mean, think about the exposure.”
I sighed. It was lunchtime, and so sunny out that Henry and I were eating at a picnic table in the quad.
Equipped with cafeteria trays, his improv buddies were heading toward us.
Ellie was nearby with Bridget and their fellow thespians, while Griff had made a pit stop at our table on his way to rendezvous with the football team.
That was a new development. If we made eye contact, I usually just got an enthusiastic wave.
“The exposure,” Henry said lightly, “is exactly why she said no.”
Griff cocked his head, as if to say, I don’t follow.
“We want the word spread about Fair Winds,” I tried to explain, “but it also needs to stay quiet. I don’t want it buzzing all over social media; my parents might find out. I mean, my mom follows women like Erica.”
Erica Lupo was a content creator on Instagram with over a hundred thousand followers (and counting). She touched on everything from her style to the books she read to her floral arrangements to her passion for New Jersey. And, naturally, her vacations.
Hi, Audrey, she’d messaged me. For the first time in a while, my husband and I have a wide-open weekend and are hoping to sneak away for a few days. I haven’t been to Essex Harbor since college (I’m a Fairfield University alum!) and Fair Winds looks heavenly…
She seemed nice (and responsible), but I’d lied and said that someone had reached out about Fair Winds right before her, requesting the same dates.
I had investigated her Instagram enough to know she’d probably vlog the entire time she was here.
Which would one hundred percent put Fair Winds on the map…
One good thing, though, was that the Here-to-Stay newsletter was clearly effective. Erica had messaged me only hours after Fair Winds had gone on the market.
Griff nodded after I finished explaining. “I guess that makes sense. Bummer, but I get it.” He stole one of my apple slices, and as embarrassing as it was, my heart fluttered—Griff had been stealing my food more and more lately. “Has anyone else reached out?”
“About what?” Rory, one of Henry’s friends, asked as he joined us at the table, swinging a leg over the bench. Alec and Cam, Henry’s other improv buddies, followed suit.
“Nothing,” I quickly said. “Just waiting for an update from my parents.”
“Oh, yeah.” Alec unwrapped a ham sandwich. “How’s France treating them?”
I showed them a photo my dad had sent yesterday, a sweeping shot of whatever vineyard they were visiting.
The leafy green grapevines were in neat rows, and the sky was nothing but blue.
My mom was in the foreground in her black Celine sunglasses and a straw hat, toasting the camera with a glass of white.
We miss you! my dad had written.
Certainly looks like it! I’d texted back, feeling a little guilty about Here-to-Stay. But only a little bit, and not for very long. It was in their best interest.
“Living their best life,” Griff declared, then nodded at Henry and the rest of the improv club’s senior council. “See ya, guys.” He smiled at me, chipped tooth and all. “We’ll talk later, Audrey?”
“Definitely.” I smiled back, but before it could grow into a grin, Henry accidentally knocked over his uncapped sweet tea.
It dripped through the slats in the picnic table and dribbled onto my jeans.
“Jeez, Chen.” Griff whistled, then jogged back to the cafeteria for napkins.
“I’m sorry, Holly.” Henry gave me puppy dog eyes. “Forgive me?”
I glanced over at Ellie’s table to see Ellie not minding her own business. “Always,” I told Henry, and planted a kiss on his shoulder as what could’ve been at the Pink Sleigh yesterday flashed in my mind. “You’re a total klutz, but I’ll always forgive you.”
“Would someone mind walking me to the nurse’s office?” Cam commented dryly. “You guys make me sick.”
“We know,” Henry and I said at the same time.
But under the table, I stomped on his foot.
IN TANDEM WITH THE STUDY HALL BELL, MY phone buzzed with a message.
My stomach swirled when I saw it was a Here-to-Stay DM, from someone named Sandra Taylor.
That couldn’t be a momfluencer name, could it?
I quickly unlocked my phone and scanned Sandra’s note while navigating the science wing’s mobbed hallway.
Hello, Audrey, Sandra had written. My name is Sandra—call me Sandy!
—and I am inquiring about Fair Winds’ availability.
I’m a professor, and after a busy semester, my husband and I are looking to unwind and explore the charming seaside Connecticut towns I’ve heard so much about.
We would love to stay Thursday through Sunday, if that works for you.
Warmly, Sandy
P.S. Are you named after Audrey Hepburn? Ron, my husband, loves Funny Face!
“Which one is Funny Face again?” I asked Henry when I showed him the DM later. We stood in the doorway of an empty classroom; improv club was commencing shortly.
“Late-fifties musical rom-com with Fred Astaire,” he said. “You play Jo, a shy shop assistant and amateur philosopher who thinks the fashion industry is ridiculous.”
I sighed. “Do you just memorize IMDb pages?”
“Sometimes.” Pause. “I also watch the movies.” He laughed when I rolled my eyes. “I like these people. I think you should let them book you.”
I hesitated. I’d talked a big game about renting out the carriage house, but now that I had an actual opportunity to…
“They’re your target demographic,” Henry pointed out. “They’ve seen Funny Face.”
“So have you,” I countered.
Henry shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m…”
“An original,” I filled in the blank. “You’re a true original.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Ellie preferred the term ‘goofball,’ and Chase Reynolds used to throw around ‘gay.’”
My breath caught. “No way.”
He shrugged. “It was sophomore year. Ellie and I were lab partners, and he knew I liked her. It was the only thing he could come up with.”
“What a prick,” I muttered.
“I have to go.” Henry jerked his chin toward Bridget, who stood impatiently, her arms folded across her chest. Despite her theater commitments, she still managed to participate in improv. Today was their end-of-year party. “You should write Sandy back and confirm their stay.”
“Yeah, okay.” I nodded, then felt some goose bumps when Henry looped an arm around my waist and whispered, “Give me a Hollywood kiss, Jo?”
Bridget will pass this on to Ellie, I thought, so I teasingly slung my arms around Henry’s neck… but only kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Yikes,” Cam joked, as Rory called, “Denied!”
“It’s important to keep him striving,” I said, then exited with a wink and a smile and excitement coursing through me.