Chapter Twelve
B oxing Day breakfast was quiet and lazy, with people entering the kitchen at different times, some up bright and early to get the croissants at their warmest, and others indulging in a sleep-in after the busy festivities of the previous day.
When Jeannie descended to the kitchen, she found Everett deep in conversation with her grandfather debating the best track from The Beatles’ White Album . Jim was already out on the rink with Lyndsay, and Gloria was doing a cross-stitch by the fire.
“There she is,” Sue said. “Glad you slept in a little. CAA has already come and gone. I don’t know what the problem was, but they seemed to have fixed it. The car’s ready for Everett to drive back to the city.” She winked at Jeannie. All Jeannie could do was shake her head at the extent of her grandmother’s matchmaking mischief.
When the phone rang and Duke excused himself to take the call in the office, Jeannie took the opportunity to slide into his seat across from Everett, who was sipping his coffee, hair a little messed up from sleep in a very appealing way.
“Good morning,” she said. From the other side of the table, the corners of Everett’s mouth turned up in a delicious grin, and the idea of kissing him good morning was far more appealing than any of the golden pastries in the basket in front of her.
“Morning, Jeannie.”
She barely noticed Sue beeline out of the kitchen.
Jeannie liked Everett. She liked how easily he fit in with her family and how he always had something interesting to say. She liked that he noticed things about her and seemed to be able to tell what she was thinking. She liked—well—pretty much everything about him.
So, he was a musician. Maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing. Maybe it would be fun to go out with him in the city. Maybe—
“Phone’s for you,” Duke called into the kitchen, interrupting her reverie.
“For me?” asked Jeannie. Who would be calling her at the lodge? The only person who knew where she was would be Laura. Hopefully nothing was wrong with Jazzy the cat.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and Everett lifted his coffee in an adorable salute.
The rotary phone receiver sat off the hook on the office desk. “Hello?” she said.
“Hey, Jeannie,” a familiar male voice sounded through the receiver.
It couldn’t be.
“Ben?” asked Jeannie. She stretched the phone cord to shut the office door. “How did you—”
“I remembered the name of the place you were staying for Christmas and called the operator. Merry Christmas, by the way. Was Santa good to you?”
Ben Kane was calling? Why?
She cleared her throat. “He was,” she said. “How about you?”
Ben chuckled. “Always a stand-up guy. Listen, when are you heading back to the city?”
Jeannie couldn’t believe her ears. Was Ben finally asking her out? But what about the floozy at the bar? Or had she had too much to drink and misread the situation? “This morning, actually,” she said, her pulse quickening. She’d be home by the early afternoon.
“I’m not sure if you have any plans on New Year’s Eve,” his deep, confident voice said through the receiver. “But there’s this thing at my parents’ club. It’s a fancy event, and it’s a lot of fun. I wanted to see if you’d be my date.”
“What about that bartender?” Jeannie heard herself say. She couldn’t help it.
“Who?”
“From the Tartan?” Jeannie asked. She winced. What a stupid thing to bring up.
“Oh, her? She’s nothing,” Ben said. “Not really right for that type of event anyway.”
It bothered her that the bartender was so easily dismissed, but the fact that Ben saw her as something more gave her a rush of confidence. He considered her to be someone who fit into his world.
“I’d love to be your date,” she said, already making plans in her mind for what shoes she already had, how she would do her hair, and where she’d go shopping for a dress. It would have to be at a less expensive store, given that she’d already spent her bonus on Everett’s band.
Everett.
A punch of guilt hit her in the gut. But they’d just met. Sure, they’d shared a great kiss. And there was no denying that there was a connection between them. But Ben was just…right. In all the ways that mattered.
“I’ll pick you up in a taxi at eight p.m. What’s your address?”
Jeannie told Ben how to find her apartment building and gave him her home phone number. After hanging up, she sat back at the office desk, weighed down by a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
The Grey Spruce Golf and Country Club. Fabulous food and drinks, the who’s who of the social scene, and maybe, if things went well, someone to buy her roses on Valentine’s Day.
This Christmas may not have gone entirely according to plan. But New Year’s Eve was shaping up to be a different story.
*
After they’d both packed their things in their cars and said goodbye to the boarders and the Carmichaels, Jeannie and Everett stood between their two vehicles.
“Thanks again for everything,” she said. “You saved the party. You made it a close game. Everyone loved you.”
“Spend New Year’s Eve with me,” Everett said, reaching over and taking her hand, his eyes alight with care and intention. “We’re playing the pub again. It would be fun to have you there.” Jeannie experienced a sudden irresistible urge to kiss him again. To invite herself over to his apartment to see his record collection. To walk in the park, and talk, and go to dinner, and then not talk. But she couldn’t lead him on any further. It was cruel.
“I—I have plans on New Year’s,” she said. The second the words came out of her mouth, she felt like a fraud. What was she doing, turning down an invitation from this amazing man?
“Not the guy from the party,” Everett said. She could tell he was doing his best to mask his disappointment.
“No,” she said. Hot nerves and guilt uncoiled in her stomach. “Someone from work.”
“Ah, the pretty boy,” Everett said. His face crumpled slightly, then lifted into a fake grin. He opened the door to Erik’s car, and Jeannie was desperate to get him to stay, to explain herself. “Well, Happy New Year’s, Jeannie,” he said. He slid into the driver’s seat. Her heart pounded. He was about to drive away. She had to explain herself. But then the car door opened again, and Everett ducked his head out.
“That thing I wanted to show you,” he said. “The Celestial Cascade. It’s supposed to be so bright this New Year’s we’ll see it even from the city. In case you want to make another wish.”
Before she could say a word, Everett closed the car door, and Jeannie watched as he turned on the now-operational ignition, did a three-point turn, then disappeared down the lane to the main road.