Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Griffin
I’m sitting in my car, pondering my next move. I need to figure out my sleeping arrangements before I become the only homeless person sleeping in a Jag. I look out at the snowy slopes. The ski lift has shut down, the town lights flickering on. Then I see the sign again.
The Timberline Inn. Finally, something going my way.
The GPS gets me there in a few minutes. The place looks historical and newly renovated with a wide wraparound porch, large windows, and pine garlands along the railings. Christmas leftovers that somehow still work in January.
I park behind a pickup truck, grab my briefcase, and step inside. The lobby smells like cedar and paint. A beautiful old reception desk gleams beneath newly installed pendant lights. Construction materials sit neatly stacked near a side hallway.
“Hi, can I help you?” a man in his early thirties asks. Brown hair, easy smile, flannel shirt rolled up to his forearms. He’s holding a toolbox.
“I’m Griffin Renshaw. I saw your banner on Main Street.”
He laughs. “Hard to miss. My fiancée thought it was a good idea.” He offers a hand which I shake. “I’m Nick, the owner. Sorry but we’re only opening on Valentine’s Day.”
“I was hoping we could work something out.”
A quizzical look. “There’s a lodge in the next town over.”
“I already called every place in the county. No rooms. Except the apartment above the animal rescue.”
Nick winces. “Right. There’s a ski competition this weekend. I’m really sorry but—”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
I pull out my wallet, platinum card gleaming. “Two weeks in advance,” I say, glancing around the beautifully renovated lobby. “Looks like you’ve invested a lot in this place. Probably costing a bundle.”
He eyes the card. “I’ve got one room that could work. Used it for promotional photos so it’s all set up. I can get a cleaner in there. Only thing is there’s no food service yet. You’ll have to handle breakfast yourself. Eggs in the fridge, pan on the stove.”
“How about running water?”
“Yep. Got that.”
“Done.”
Before he can change his mind, I hand him the card, sign a paper, and head back out, fully aware I just committed to two whole weeks of Mayberry, USA.
Ruby is already at the Blue River Bistro when I arrive. She’s wearing a polka-dot sweater and a long skirt with a poodle on it. I can’t tell if she’s aiming for retro or if she actually time-traveled. Her lipstick is bright red, her smile brighter. She’s a unique sort of pretty.
“Hello, Griffin. No room at Paws and Claws?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Word travels fast in small towns.” She sips something pink and fruity through a straw.
“Actually, there was room. If I was willing to share my personal space with a bevy of cats.”
She nods as if that’s perfectly reasonable. “Sorry I didn’t wait to order my drink. Long day and I needed something stronger than the mocktail I had earlier.”
I don’t ask. I’m ninety-percent sure I’m the reason.
We sit in silence, which is fine with me. Ruby, on the other hand, is looking anywhere but at me and sucking down her drink like she just crossed the Mojave.
“Shall we get down to business?” I ask. “Or we could order first. Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
As if conjured, a waitress appears. Ruby lights up. “Hey, Suzy, how’ve you been?”
“Same as always.” Suzy smiles warmly at Ruby, then glances at me like I tracked in snow and bad vibes. She’s heard about me.
“The baby shower was beautiful,” Ruby says. “Your sister chose the perfect shade of lilac for the babies’ room.”
Ruby turns to me. “Suzy’s sister had a baby shower for her twins, Coral and June.”
“I’m hungry,” I say. “This is a restaurant, correct?”
Both women stare at me like that’s an odd thing to point out.
Suzy licks the tip of her pencil. “What can I get you?”
Ruby waves away the menus. “He’ll have the Chef’s Burger and sweet potato fries.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, irritated.
“You’ll thank me later.”
Before I can object, Suzy is gone.
“So, what did you want to discuss?” Ruby asks.
I slide my aunt’s letter across the table. “Clara left this for me.”
Her brow lifts. She opens the letter with gentle fingers. As she reads, moisture gathers in her eyes. Tears make me uncomfortable. Seeing them on someone this upbeat feels wrong.
“She must have really liked you,” I say. “If she trusted you to manage her beloved shop.”
“Clara was like a surrogate mom. I lost mine young.” She meets my eyes. “Neither of us were the run-a-business type. Unless you mean running it into the ground.”
How odd. I was expecting excuses and manipulation, not honesty. It knocks something loose inside me.
The food arrives. Ruby devours hers with impressive enthusiasm while mine sits untouched. Business first.
“So you two were close?” I ask.
“Very. How about you?”
“Well, the fact that you never heard my name should tell you something.”
“She said she had two successful nephews in Denver. She sounded proud.”
The words land harder than I expect. “My brother, Logan, and I started a company a few years ago. We’ve been buried in work.”
She gestures at the letter. “Then how can you be here for a month?”
“It’s a challenge. Logan will handle on-site matters while I work remotely. It was my aunt’s final wish.”
She tilts her head. “There’s more to you than I thought.” Then freezes. “Did I just say that out loud?”
I crack a smile. It feels foreign.
I pull out the most recent prospectus Logan could find when a shout erupts.
“She said yes!”
Something pink falls on my head. Music blares. Confetti rains down like the World Series ticker-tape parade.
The elderly couple next to us is beaming, a giant cake in front of them.
Ruby is on her feet instantly. When she returns she’s breathless. “They were childhood sweethearts who reunited a few weeks ago. They’re getting married on Valentine’s Day!”
I eye them. “Wonderful,” I say, dryly. “Ask if they need flowers for the big day.”
Ruby deflates, sitting slowly.
“So,” I say, “Oopsie Daisies. That’s why I’m here.”
She watches the couple kiss. “Sixty years apart. Still in love.”
“All that and unicorns will buy you a—”
Ruby turns back to me. “You don’t believe in lasting love?”
“Not something I’d gamble on.”
“Well, I did. And Clara did.”
“Clara lived in a dreamworld. And tell me, Ruby… how did that work out for you?”
The moment it leaves my mouth I regret it. Her face falls. She looks away.
“Clara followed her heart with everything,” she says quietly. “Love, business, where to live.”
“Logic rarely played a role. Hence my arrival.”
She gestures to the prospectus. “Can we get back to business?”
Score.
We review the numbers. They’re worse than she realized.
“I’ll stay the month,” I say, seeing the devastation in her eyes. “Try to get Oopsie Daisies back on its feet. If we can’t, it will be liquidated.”
Her face collapses. Minutes ago she was glowing. Now she looks hollow.
“That means we work together,” I add. “For thirty days.”
She forces a smile. “Thirty days. How hard can it be?”
With the main topic out of the way, I reach for my burger, take a bite—
And my throat tingles. My skin heats. Sweat beads on my forehead.
Ruby leans forward. “Griffin?”
I croak, “What was in the burger?”
She’s already on her feet. Suzy rushes over.
“Was… there… cilantro?” I manage.
Suzy pales. “The chef adds it for special flavor.”
I push away from the table and stagger to the exit.
“It’s on the house!” she yells after me.
Ruby grabs my elbow, guiding me.
“Call 9-1-1,” I rasp.
Seven minutes later, I’m slumped against the outside wall, Ruby holding my sweaty hand as the ambulance arrives.
A medic hurries over, assesses the situation, and pulls out an EpiPen which he drives into my thigh.
Ruby’s eyes roll back and she crumples beside me.
The second medic hurries over. “We got a fainter!