Chapter 10
THERE WERE TWO WAYS I COULD PLAY Thursday’s check-in.
Griff suggested I leave a key in a lockbox on Fair Winds’ front door.
According to his aunt, it worked like a charm for the Swifties staying at her condo—and, unless disaster struck, it also ensured zero host-guest interaction.
The idea was tempting, but I kind of wanted to meet Sandy and Ron; I wanted them to know that someone was around.
“Audrey, relax,” Griff said. “You sound paranoid. These people are pros, remember? Twenty vacations!”
We’d scoured their profiles for intel.
I admit I was on edge, but of course I was!
Plus, as a new host, my payout could potentially be delayed a couple of weeks after my first reservation.
I had to believe my parents were disconnected from real life in France, but when they returned home?
I knew my dad would be touching base with our bank accounts.
I told Sandy check-in was at four p.m. and gave her the gate code as well as instructions to park in front of the carriage house garage. She and Ron were driving up from Washington, DC.
“I still can’t believe I won’t be blowing glass for three weeks,” I lamented to Henry on Wednesday as we prepped for the Taylors’ arrival.
We’d gone to Whole Foods to buy some basics for the fridge—milk, eggs, butter, and ketchup—as well as a loaf of sourdough and local strawberry jam.
Our coffee options included a basket of Nespresso pods, and there was also an array of herbal teas.
Moroccan Mint was my favorite.
“I know,” Henry said, “but look at it this way: The gas bill won’t be as outrageous this month.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” I mumbled. “Jeff and Monica will know something’s up if they notice the lower bill. Why would I dial back blowing glass?”
“You don’t have to,” Henry pointed out. “The only person barring you from blowing glass is you.”
I let out a sigh; it was a fair point, but it didn’t change my mind.
Once the Taylors were officially booked, I’d decided Golightly Glass was taking a hiatus.
We hadn’t exactly disclosed that Fair Winds was above a hot shop, and I wanted guests to feel like they were on vacation.
If I was hard at work downstairs, I worried they would feel like they were living above a factory.
I couldn’t let that color any reviews.
Plus, I didn’t really want to talk or think about glassblowing for a while; I needed to devote all my energy and focus to Here-to-Stay.
I also thought it would be welcoming to put together a dossier of recommended restaurants and activities, so I stayed up late Wednesday night—or rather, into the wee hours of Thursday morning—dashing off a Google Doc for Henry to cosign.
Thanks a lot, he texted me at 4:15 a.m. Now I’m craving Sister Act’s lemon ricotta pancakes!
Rise my guests didn’t need any weird vibes.
This meet and greet had to be as professional as possible.
And, preferably, short.
“Do you need any help later?” Ellie found me at the tail end of lunch. Griff must’ve told her about the viewing party. “Chase is picking me up, so if you want, we can—”
“No, thanks,” I said tightly. “It’s all covered.”
Ellie nodded, but slowly—like she had something else to say.
You’ll still get your seventy-five dollars, I almost said. I just really don’t want Chase at my house. I don’t know him, and I don’t ever plan on getting to know him.
He sounded like a jerk.
I had to question whether I’d actually said that aloud when Ellie’s brow furrowed. “Is this about Henry?” she asked, her voice going up an octave. “Has Henry said stuff about Chase?”
“When’s your next appointment with the Hair Doctor?” I inelegantly changed the subject. Ellie’s natural hair color was beautiful, but she didn’t look like herself without her pink streaks.
“I haven’t scheduled one.” She half smiled, then shrugged. “It was time for a change.”
AT 4:23 P.M., I WANTED TO THROW UP.
Because at 4:23 p.m., a blue Volvo stopped at the gate, punched in our movie trivia question code, and then proceeded to drive down my driveway. “They’re here!” Griff exclaimed before quite literally popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. He’d helped himself to my mom’s homemade kettle corn.
I felt Henry’s hand on my back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go out there with you?”
I nodded. “I’m the host. It should just be me.”
And with that, I marched out the mudroom door and into the sunshine.
Fair Winds was situated yards from the main house, close enough that Griff and Henry had a magnificent view from the living room window, but far enough that no one could mistake it for an ordinary detached garage.
Our driveway splintered; continuing straight escorted you to the mansion’s garage, while rounding the bend led to the carriage house.
It was nestled among the flower beds my mom had tirelessly planted—the woman had a vision for everything—with a great view of the Sound.
By the time I walked over, heart thumping, Sandy and Ron had gotten out of their car and were assessing their accommodations. “Hello!” someone-who-did-not-sound-like-me-at-all called cheerfully as Sandy raised her phone for a photo. She and her husband both turned. “How was your drive?”
“Lovely!” Sandy said at the same time Ron said, “Arduous.”
She shot him a look.
“What?” he asked sheepishly. “You managed to hit every single pothole.”
I tried not to laugh. Was Ron a passenger princess like Henry?
“You must be Audrey.” Sandy smiled after waving off her husband.
She was maybe five ten with shoulder-length gray hair and glasses, and wearing a breezy white blouse with plaid capris and red Keds.
Ron was a few inches shorter than her and stocky in a black quarter-zip and khaki shorts. I liked his Army green Crocs.
“Yes,” I said, smiling back. “Welcome! I’m Audrey.”
My stomach flipped. “Monica” had messaged Sandy earlier to remind her that her daughter would be meeting them today. It didn’t say anywhere on Here-to-Stay that the host needed to be on the premises.
“This looks even more beautiful in person.” Sandy shook her head in wonder. “We’re so happy to be here.”
“You seem rather young to own this place,” Ron remarked after we shook hands. “How many grades did you skip in school?”
“Ron,” his wife said. “Were you even listening in the car? When I told you about—”
“This is my parents’ property.” I kept my cool. “I’m managing it while they’re temporarily away on business.”
For some reason, business sounded better than vacation.
“Huh,” Ron said but didn’t question me further. I gestured toward Fair Winds, and Sandy eagerly followed me upstairs with her husband in tow.
“My mother decorated it herself,” I found myself saying proudly as Sandy gushed over the apartment and Ron plopped down on the couch.
“Gorgeous,” she said. “What’s downstairs?”
“Storage,” I lied, pulse quickening a bit. The last thing I wanted was for someone to discover and mess with my hot shop. “Nobody’s ever in there, so you won’t be disturbed.”
Then I swallowed, smiled, and handed Sandy the carriage house’s key. I told her the kitchen was stocked with some basics, and that I’d left a Things to Do in Essex Harbor list on the coffee table. The Wi-Fi info was posted on the fridge.
“And if you need anything, feel free to text me,” I said. “I’m around, and you might see”—I hesitated, but went with it—“my boyfriend.”
The word boyfriend crackled; I felt a strange tingling sensation on my lips. It was the first time I’d ever called Henry that.
“Thank you for everything, Audrey,” Sandy said, her face buried in my recommendation dossier. “I’m sure we’re going to have a wonderful time.”
“My pleasure,” I said, and with that, left to let them get settled in.
“HOW WERE THEY?” HENRY ASKED WHEN I walked into the living room, but before I could answer, Griff clapped me on both shoulders.
“Audrey, it’s real!” he said as my pulse jumped. “Shit just got so real—you have guests.”
“That I do.” I grinned nervously. “They seem nice.”
“This is incredible,” Griff said, still shaking me. “I have to text Kenzie.”
My heart stopped. “Kenzie?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “She wanted—”
“Keeler,” Henry groaned. “You didn’t.”
Griff gave him a funny look. “What?”
“You told Kenzie that Audrey’s a Here-to-Stay host?”
Crickets.
“I might’ve,” he allowed.
Oh, Griff… My stomach soured. “She knows not to say anything, right?”
“Totally,” he said. “She knows it’s chill.”
Chill.
I hated that word. What did it even mean? Was it the same as super casual or in-the-vault secret?
Henry snagged the bad-cop role. “That’s not a good enough answer,” he said, unlocking his phone. “I’m starting a group chat. Audrey, you, me, Ellie, and Kenzie.”
“Plus, Mia and Jared,” Griff added.
“What!” Henry and I screeched.
“Whoa, don’t blame me,” he said. “Kenzie told them.”
Blood thudded in my ears. “Forget the group chat,” I told Henry. “Tell them to be at Hamburger Hill at six.” I took a deep breath. “Now that people know, we need to outline expectations.”