Chapter 2
TWO
Aurora
Despite it being the hottest May on record in this part of the country, my one-bedroom cottage is freezing.
Scientists should study this place, because no matter how long or high I have on the central heating, no matter the time of year, I always have to wear socks and two jumpers. It doesn’t make any logical sense.
At least I slept in. Darcy and Logan were out late.
I woke up in front of Bridgerton with them hammering on the door because they’d forgotten their keys.
They always say I can stay, but I always opt to come home.
I feel like I spend enough time with them anyway.
I have space in my life, but I worry, if it’s all filled with Darcy and Logan, William and Daphne, and Ryder and Scarlett and their two children, there wouldn’t be room for anyone else if my Prince Charming did come along.
So I try to create a world for myself, however small.
I push my feet, covered in thick gray walking socks, into my sheepskin slippers and head into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Maybe that will warm me up. As I slide my phone onto the counter, it starts to ring.
It’s the Hotel on Ninth Street number calling again. I do some mental maths and work out it’s 6 a.m. in New York.
I’ve ignored the last few calls, but something about being so cold, something about the babysitting last night, something about life, makes me accept the call.
“Hello?” My tone is tentative.
“Good morning, Ms. Reynolds, it’s Avril Worthington from the Hotel on Ninth Street. Is now a good time to talk?”
I’ve told her that I’m not going to move across the ocean for a job. I’ve been clear.
But maybe she’s going to tell me she’s opening a hotel in Chilternshire.
You never know.
“Yes, I’m just making myself a cup of tea. Please call me Aurora.”
“Great. It’s good to connect again. I know you’ve already told us you don’t want to move, but I just wanted to have one more conversation with you before we gave up!” She laughs.
I like Avril. She’s not the kind of New Yorker you read about. Although I don’t read about New Yorkers very much. My only real reference point is Sex and the City. But Avril isn’t like any of those girls. I suppose she’s like a more exciting Charlotte, if I was forced to pick one.
“I’m always happy to talk to you, Avril,” I say. “I’m sorry I’ve missed a couple of calls.”
“I know you’re busy. It’s why I’m up at six on a Sunday to try and find a time when you’re around.”
“I’m flattered. But I feel bad that you’re destroying your sleep for me.
I’m not sure I can tell you anything new.
” The kettle boils, and I fill up my cup with my nettle tea bag in it.
I take my mug with me as I pad into the small sitting room.
I refuse to make a fire in May. I just refuse, but I have a heated blanket that I switch on and pull over me as I sit in the small armchair, which has faded roses all over it.
She sighs. “Obviously we don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do. We don’t want to fly you to New York, only for you to hate it. So Poppy and I have been talking, and we wondered if you’d come and do three months with us. Just over the summer.”
It was the last thing I was expecting her to say.
I thought she’d tell me how she was in the process of opening a second hotel in New York, and she and her sister wanted me to join as director of rooms and deputy manager, on the basis that they’d quickly want me to move up to hotel manager.
That’s what our conversations have always been about.
We’ve spoken three or four times, and they always flatter me with their experiences at The Rookery when they stayed for a friend’s wedding.
Then they tell me they’ve done their own due diligence—whatever that means.
And how they think I’ll fit perfectly into their family business.
“I know you’ve been clear about not wanting to leave your friends and family, but this gives you an opportunity to see if you can stay in touch with them and have your own adventure.”
My own adventure. The words echo in my head.
My own adventure. Not always being available while everyone else had their own adventures. An adventure of my own.
I’ve been orbiting Darcy’s world for so long now, I’m used to being a secondary character in our story. Darcy’s the daughter of a duke, the bride, the mother. I just got to witness it all. I got to hold her hand and support her through the highs and lows.
Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out. And then I feel bad for not focusing on the fact that my friend is going through all these wonderful life events. I would just like something to be about me. I’d like a wonderful life event of my own.
For years I’ve been doing the same thing, living in the same place, working at the same hotel…and I’ve been having the exact same experience.
I want things to be different. New. Exciting.
Avril is offering me a three-month break from being a spectator in other people’s lives. Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for? It’s an opportunity to do something for myself. And it’s not like I have to commit to a permanent move. It’s just a summer.
I always assumed my path would be just like Darcy’s—I’d get married to the love of my life and then have children. But now, with the doctor’s warning that motherhood is almost certainly not in my future, I have to figure out what my new path is.
If I stay where I am, doing what I’m doing, aren’t I destined to just get more of the same? I’d read some post on Instagram this week that if you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’re getting.
It makes perfect sense. If you put all the same ingredients in the mixture, you’ll come out with the same cake every time. But if you change the ingredients, the cake will come out differently.
“Three months?” I ask. “How would that work, exactly?”
“Well,” Avril says. “Our hope is that you’ll fall in love with our hotel and you’ll stay longer once you realize how special it is and how exciting New York is. So we’d onboard you as if you’re going to stay the rest of your career.” She laughs, but my stomach turns over and over.
“But it would only be for three months,” I say.
“Yes, absolutely. If that’s what you want.
And we won’t be upset if you decide to leave after three months.
But we’d want you to have the best experience and really know the hotel.
So we’d rotate you through all the departments, so you’d have a real in-depth knowledge.
Because really, we’d be onboarding a general manager. ”
“But the role I’d be coming in to do would be director of rooms, right?”
“Initially. But there’s a career path there for you.”
The managers of The Rookery have talked to me about my career path before.
I’ve been promoted over the years, but not getting the top job has never bothered me.
Getting to be hotel manager wasn’t my goal.
I never expected to be there for so long.
And then all of a sudden I’d been there longer than I hadn’t.
The Rookery had been a huge part of my life, a massive part of my story…by accident.
Panic rises in my stomach at the idea that a summer job had turned into a career, just because time passed and I’ve just let things happen to me. I’d never made a decision to work at The Rookery. Or at least, the decisions I’d taken had been not to look for another job.
“Poppy and I are actively looking at new projects. If we find something, we’ll spend a lot of our time managing that.
Me in particular. I won’t have time to manage Hotel on Ninth Street.
That should give you six to twelve months to get your feet under the table and really have a sense of the place, if you decide to stay longer than a summer. ”
A year isn’t that far away. I might not be married with a kid in a year, but I might be the manager of a New York hotel if I took this opportunity Avril was offering.
“We wouldn’t go to this much effort of convincing someone to join our team, if it wasn’t for a crucial position,” she says. “Poppy and I think the three of us have great chemistry, and we know your track record. We’re a family business, and we want someone to join us who feels like family.”
I’m not sure anyone has given me a bigger compliment. But does it mean I’ll stop orbiting Darcy’s world and start orbiting Avril and Poppy’s? I don’t want to jump from the frying pan into the fire. That’s the last thing I’m aiming for.
But if I go to New York, it would be a proactive choice. Does that make a difference? Does that make New York my own adventure?
“I know you’re saying it would only be three months, but I’d obviously have to give up my job here to take yours. So…it’s a risk.”
“I understand that,” Avril says. “But you know what they say, no reward without risks.”
I sigh. It feels daunting. Maybe my own adventure should be a move to London. At least I could come back to Chilternshire when I had days off. I’d only be a couple of hours away from Woolton, the village I’ve called home for so much of my life. New York is so far away.
“New York is a risk,” Avril continues. “But you know the job. So spend the rest of the summer getting to know the city and seeing how you like life on this side of the pond.”
Is it really that simple? And if I don’t like it? Then what? I come back to the UK, and maybe I try and find a different adventure in London.
“And you’re sure you’re not going to be upset if I come home in three months?” I ask.
“Surprised but not upset.”
I pull in a deep breath. Am I really, really going to do this?
Darcy laughed at the idea of me going to New York.
I get it, but it still hurt my feelings a little. I want to be the kind of woman who might go to New York. I’d like it if the idea that I’d move continents wasn’t laughable.
But why would Darcy see me as the kind of woman who took risks, tried things, and lived abroad, when all the evidence points to the exact opposite?
The fact is, I don’t have the life I want and I’m not the woman I want to be.
If I want to change my cake, I have to change the recipe.
I have to take a risk. A fantastic opportunity landed in my lap. Why am I questioning this? I should be booking my flights to New York already.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
It’s past time for me to take control of my life.