22. Grace
Grace
Daylight always had a way of bringing clarity, and as I bopped around my room, I couldn’t help but reflect how much things had changed for me. Living at The Grand was different from anything I’d experienced. I grew up privileged, and if it weren’t for Julia, I wouldn’t be humble at all.
Cleaning was a new task for me. Not because I wasn’t a clean person. My life might be a mess, but I could handle basic mundane tasks. Did I outsource those tasks when I lived in the city? Yes. But my room at Fiona’s was small and easy to keep tidy.
I also found myself enjoying helping Fiona clean the kitchen at the end of the night. Even though she did have one employee, a college girl, she was flaky at best.
Something I wasn’t prepared for was the handle on the bathroom door breaking off.
I’d left the bathroom window open, causing the door to slam shut.
Then I must have grabbed it too forcefully and it snapped off.
Now I couldn’t even use the bathroom. And the worst part was I had to bother Fiona, which I tried not to do.
I made my way through the bed-and-breakfast, smiling at the guests in the lobby before heading to Fiona’s tiny house.
This place had become a home. It was nothing like The Plaza.
My world had been pristine hotel suites with crisp white linens and room service.
Even my childhood home was more of a museum than a home.
I preferred real life, warm, homey, lived-in.
The cottage sat behind the bed-and-breakfast, tucked beneath an old oak tree. The paint was peeling in places and the garden was overgrown. It had character, much like the woman who resided there.
I knocked on the door and heard a faint, “Come in.”
Inside, the air smelled of old books and flowers, but beneath it was something else—something stale.
I never had a reason to visit Fiona in her cottage, so I never saw what a mess it was. The place was cluttered, not just with things but memories. Stacks of newspapers, a chair covered in laundry, dishes piled in the sink. It wasn’t dirty, per se, but it was too much for her to handle.
Fiona was sitting at the small kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her, her gray-streaked hair pinned up with a fresh perm from the salon. She barely looked up as I stepped in, letting out a small sigh of annoyance to acknowledge me.
“I thought I told you not to need me … ever,” she muttered.
I smiled, pointing at the doorknob. “Bathroom door broke.”
She huffed. “Call CJ and tell him to fix it.”
My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to ask how she knew but was quickly cut off. “I know everything that goes on in this town, Fancy Pants.”
I laughed softly. “Noted.” I glanced around. “Looks like you could use some help around here.”
She eyed me, her lips pursing. “You ever cleaned a house in your life?”
Shaking my head, I answered, “No. Not like this.” I met her gaze, trying to convey understanding in my tone. “But I know what it’s like to feel like everything is too much. Not knowing where and how to start.”
Something flickered in her expression, and she glanced away.
“Yes. Well, I know all about your mess,” she grumbled, and my heart sank.
“But if you’re gonna be here, you might as well start on those dishes.
Then we can sort through some of those newspapers and magazines. I’m sure your face is on half of them.”
“Fiona, I—” I started but she held up a hand and spoke.
“Your secret is safe with me. I have my own secrets, similar to yours.” Fiona’s chin jutted toward me.
“Thank you,” I said softly, smiling.
“Now let’s get to work.”
We worked in silence until we came across a box labeled “NYC” and only then did Fiona speak.
“I was a journalist, Fancy Pants. I learned a famous actress was having an affair with an engaged guy. I just didn’t realize the engaged guy was my fiancé.
After that, people ridiculed me. They said I didn’t do my due diligence.
I came to Grand Haven and bought The Grand with the little money I saved. ”
“Fiona, I’m so, so?—”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think you’d last here, you know.”
I paused my sorting of the papers and glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
Fiona gestured around the room. “Small-town life. This place.”
“And now?” I asked, gulping, unsure if I wanted the answer.
“I’m glad you’re here for CJ.” She scoffed and folded a dish towel. “Also glad to have the help.”
That was as close to a compliment as I expected to get from Fiona.
Okay, so I’d officially lost my mind. I had no idea what I was doing. But I was doing it.
Caleb Jameson had turned my whole world on its head.
I should have probably been more unsettled by this—having everything I’d known to be true called into question, seeing things with new eyes, finding joy in things that I had always thought to be so outside of my reality—but I wasn’t.
I’d found that if he was upside down, then that was exactly where I wanted to be.
He made me happy. And for some odd reason, Caleb seemed to be happy around me as well. He was a good person. Naturally and effortlessly genuine, unlike myself. He didn’t need to work at being good and caring for others. For Caleb, it came easily.
It wasn’t second nature for me, but he made me want to be a better person. He made me want to be less selfish. The more time I spent with him, the more I desired to be like him. I wanted to take care of him for a change. Which was why I was surprising him at Bar.
I made my way down Main Street, being greeted by too many locals, and I hoped they couldn’t notice my lack of clothing. It was no easy feat in this outfit, if you could call what I had on much of one.
My feet were killing me from these strappy heels.
If I were to add another complaint to the list, I was also chilled to the bone.
The reason I was cold was because I was trekking through Grand Haven in nothing but my underwear.
In November. Well, nothing but my underwear and a trench coat over it, but still.
I had a draft in places where nobody should have a draft.
None of that mattered. Since getting a taste of Caleb, I couldn’t stop.
I had a hard time controlling myself when we were together.
The man had no business being so damned sexy, and the way he handled me—like he wanted to cherish me and devour me at the same time—made it easy for me to fall for him.
Yet I felt terrified by this. I couldn’t even admit to myself how much I liked him.
Going with the flow and trying not to overthink things wasn’t working because that little voice inside my head kept asking, “What if I fuck all this up?”
It was easy to let self-doubt win in those moments. After all, my track record in life wasn’t great. I’d pretty much destroyed everything good in my path.
I just had to keep fighting off the insecurities because Caleb was important to me. He’d actually become the most important thing in my life.
All of the fancy things no longer impressed me as much as Caleb and his kind demeanor did.
The lines that formed in the crease of his eyes when he smiled at his customers were far more beautiful than the surgically enhanced faces of those in my former social circle.
He actually took time to listen to people and their needs and wants as opposed to talking over them, completely dismissing their opinions.
Caleb remembered people’s birthdays and gave them complimentary drinks instead of bemoaning the fact that a birthday meant having to lie about your age or think about that next procedure to preserve your youth.
He was a hands-on dad, who was protective and caring, unlike my own who had checked out far before he and my mother got divorced.
He cooked damn good meals, and it warmed my heart that he wanted to do gestures for me instead of just buying things for me.
Hands down the best thing about him was all he’d ever wanted from me was me. Not my name. Not my status. Not my wealth. Not who I could introduce him to. Just me.
I didn’t think I could say that about another person I’d met.
Everyone was always wondering what was in it for them.
Like my presence in their life came with a price tag.
But not Caleb, and that was why I was walking down the street, only a few steps away from the bar, with a determined look on my face because this man deserved to be shown how much I appreciated him.
As I approached Bar, I tried to open the door. Thankfully, Caleb had left it unlocked. Walking into the bar, I looked down and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
The bell rang out, alerting Caleb that someone had come into the bar. Hopefully, that was not the only time somebody would be coming.
I locked the door behind me. This situation called for no interruptions.
“Hey, I’m not open yet. Gotta give me a little more time, Al,” Caleb called from the pool room. Peering into the back, I saw him reaching down to grab the balls so he could arrange them on the table.
“But I’m not very patient,” I muttered back to him.
Every step I took, the clack of my heels on the hardwood announced how close I was getting in proximity to Caleb.
I tossed my purse on the floor and continued to close the gap between us.
He hadn’t moved from the back room, and he was facing away from me, but he’d gone still, no longer fiddling with setting up the table.
As I reached him, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing the side of my face against his back. “Guess who?” I joked, laughing at my bad banter.
“Definitely not Al. You smell better. It’s a dead giveaway,” Caleb deadpanned, his back vibrating from his laughter.
He turned in my arms and smiled when he saw my face. “Hello, baby,” Caleb greeted cheerfully. “You’re here early. What a pleasant surprise.” His warm, shimmering blue eyes raked over me and my coat.