Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
It had been a week since she and Cody had slept together. In that week, she had set up several interviews for hotel staff, talked to potential guests, met Lane, the chef for the Painted Ridge dining room, and had begun to partner with her on finding wait staff.
She appreciated that Laney was involving her in the process, even though it had to do with running her restaurant.
Mainly because it would allow Marlowe to feel like she knew everybody who was coming into work at the hotel. Eventually, that might not be reasonable.
Work was good because it kept her mind off the great, bright, terrible, confusing, wonderful intensity that was her life right now.
It was the strangest thing.
Because her thoughts were consumed with Aiden, of course. She needed to find a lawyer, and she had contacted the person that Cody had recommended, because Lila had gotten a hold of her with the information, and she was going to pull the trigger soon, and make their marriage dissolution official.
Hopefully painlessly.
Well, as painlessly as possible.
But she was also consumed with Cody.
With everything that had happened between them, and she hadn’t seen him since, which was weird, because he had been a presence every single day prior to that afternoon.
She felt weirdly rejected, and she shouldn’t.
Because what had happened with Cody had nothing to do with her. Her personally, anyway.
He had a thing for her, physically, and that was it. He had made it very clear that there could never be anything else between them, and she respected that.
She did.
Because she agreed, but that didn’t mean that he needed to be evasive.
She hadn’t told anyone. She hadn’t even told Cara.
Not because she was ashamed…
It wasn’t shame, not really. It was more complicated than that. But the reality was, it was never going to happen again, so there was no point having too many thoughts about it.
Too many feelings.
Maybe this was what it was like for everybody who had only ever had sex in the context of a relationship before.
She felt like a high schooler.
What was he thinking about, was he thinking about her, did he want her again?
She hadn’t missed these kinds of insecure, swirling worries. About a man.
Turned out, though, she should’ve had them about her husband. And she hadn’t.
She rested her elbows on the front desk and pressed her face into her hands, and let out a short scream. When she looked up, Laney was standing there.
Laney was an extremely cool woman in a sort of effortless way that Marlowe didn’t think she herself could ever manage.
Marlowe didn’t come by anything effortlessly.
Maybe Laney didn’t either, but it seemed like she did.
She had long blonde hair and an arm full of floral tattoos.
She had made a splash with food trucks in the Bay Area, and then managed a couple of pop-ups, but never something on this scale.
She was calm, extremely self-assured, and the kind of person that Marlowe wanted to be when she grew up.
“You good?” Laney asked.
“I’m great,” Marlowe said. “Just absolutely great. Really. I have interviews today.”
“I hate those,” Laney sighed. “Mainly because if I have to tell one more fifteen-year-old that I’m not going to hire them, I might scream. They keep putting fake birthdates down like I’m not going to find out.”
“It’s a small town. I have a feeling jobs that pay this well are hard to get.”
“I’m sure, but I need people with experience.”
“Me too,” Marlowe said. “But it’s tricky because there isn’t another resort like this in the area.”
“I don’t have a problem training people, but the Painted Ridge Dining Room is premium pricing, so it has to be premium service. It’s a lot different than a pop-up.” For the first time, Marlowe got a tiny peek at Laney’s humanness.
When Marlowe’s interviewee arrived at the hotel, she realized that he was familiar.
It was the young man who had waited her table the night that she had gotten drunk and called Aiden.
Chris.
“Oh,” he said, “it’s you.”
“And it’s you,” she said, trying to figure out if this was a good thing or an embarrassing thing. A good thing. He’d been a great waiter, and she had a feeling he’d be good here too.
He was too adorable, and she hired him for the front desk on the spot.
He had more experience waiting tables, but he was looking for something different, and it was an added bonus that if he wanted to pick up more hours, it would be easy for him to step in and fill spots at the restaurant if they came up.
She’d done it. Made her first hire.
And after that, she made another, and another. Laney hired a host and a head waiter from a ski resort a couple of hours away, and then was able to take on more inexperienced servers for training with experts on hand to help out.
The hotel started to feel a little bit like a family. They were all there all the time. Familiarizing themselves with the rhythm of the place as it stood, empty and waiting for guests, so that they might all be ready to handle the crush of people when they arrived.
Nolan came by with the most beautiful wooden figures.
Bears for the back, and a gorgeous mustang that was placed right in the center of a landscaped area near the door.
It was rearing up on its hindlegs, hair looking like it was actually moving in the breeze, even though it was only polished wood. Nolan’s skill was incredible.
The most fun for Marlowe was working with her newly hired concierge team to figure out what sorts of delightful details they could offer guests to elevate their stay.
Different recommendations for activities on the ranch, for anniversary and birthday extras, dining recommendations in town.
They were working with a small spa in town to make reservations for massages and facials.
The front desk would handle rentals. Kayaks, bikes, golf carts.
As part of the reservation system, the guests input interests, and Marlowe and her team made custom recommendations along with a welcome wine or sparkling cider, and a box of local chocolates for the room.
Laney was refining her spring menu, constantly bringing food out for Marlowe to taste, and at the same time, Cara was doing the same in the bakery. Every day at the hotel, they were getting baskets of baked goods.
She was focusing on the job, which was exactly what she should be doing. She hadn’t come here to have an affair.
He was right, anyway. The first one was out of the way.
She didn’t have to worry about whether or not another man would find her appealing, not that she had worried about that.
But that question was answered. She probably could go down to the bar in town and hook up with any of the cowboys, if she felt like it.
Not that she had the time at the moment. She was busy getting a hotel up and running. She was busy building a life.
She still hadn’t told anyone about Cody.
She couldn’t tell Laney, who was becoming a friend, but also worked for Cody, so that felt weird, and she couldn’t tell Cara because…
Cara would either judge her or she would be too excited about it.
And Marlowe didn’t think that she could cope with either thing. Not all things considered.
Not since it had already fizzled out.
Even though fizzled seemed like the wrong word since nothing inside of her felt fizzled at all.
If it weren’t for all of that, everything would be perfect.
With a week left to go until the opening of the hotel, the bakery was complete and ready to go.
All of Cara’s appliances were in place, and she was busy at work perfecting everything.
Training her employees, even though her staff was much smaller than Marlowe’s.
Marlowe loved waking up early and taking a morning walk to the bakery. Sipping on a coffee as she went, and then getting a second one for Cara when she arrived.
There were so many things to love about this place. About this life.
Even if she did feel a little bit disconnected. Even if her biggest connection felt like it was to Cody, and that was something she needed to let go of.
She tried to sigh, but her chest felt all bound up.
Then, she tried to smile as she walked into the bakery.
“Good morning.” The girl behind the register was blonde and chipper, a large pink name tag on her apron read: Annabelle. “Welcome to Juniper and Sage.”
“Perfect,” Cara said, popping her head around from the kitchen. “That’s exactly how I want you greeting guests.”
“I’m hardly a guest,” Marlowe said. “But happy to be a guinea pig.”
“What can I get you?” Annabelle asked, hands positioned just so on the counter as she looked at Marlowe with all the keen eagerness of a teenager with her very first job.
“I would like one of the strawberry rolls,” Marlowe said.
Cara claimed she was still working on perfecting them, but her strawberry roll attempts had quickly replaced the lemon as Marlowe’s favorite, and as Cara tweaked the recipe in ways that Marlowe couldn’t discern, Marlowe just reaped the benefits of being a willing participant in tasting.
“Right, one strawberry roll. Coming right up.”
“And an Americano, please.”
“Right, one Americano coming right up,” Annabelle repeated, obviously working from a carefully rehearsed script.
Marlowe knew a moment of envy. Annabelle was just starting out in life.
First job, the whole world ahead of her.
Then just as abruptly as the envy had filled her, Marlowe felt relief.
Because she wasn’t just starting out. She knew who she was.
She’d been hurt, and she wished she hadn’t been hurt quite like that.
Wished she hadn’t experienced betrayal at the hands of the one man who was supposed to love her forever and care about her.
But here she was, living through it. Because she had a strong sense of herself.