MAGGIE

After leaving Tyler’s room, I take the stairs one at a time, leisurely running my hand down the railing as I notice photos on the wall I haven’t seen in years. There are fresh flowers on every available surface, replenished by Lelia every few days. I stop to sniff them, smiling and wondering how long it’s been since I’ve allowed myself any such luxury.

Maybe Emily’s right. Maybe I’ve was overdue to relax, to let my hair down and have a little fun. My night with Tyler—while intense—had broken something in me. An uptight dam that I’d been holding onto for years.

Plus, the sex had been incredible. My shoulders are less tense than they’ve been in years, and every time Tyler’s impish smile rolls through my mind, I get a shiver of pleasure. I hadn’t intended to slip up this morning, but I did, and it’s true: I am excited for next time.

I’m humming something from the Sound of Music when I finally reach my door, unlock it, and fling it open. “Good morning, Mila!”

Instead of the serene, cozy little apartment I expected, there’s a flurry of activity happening before my eyes. Emily’s running around, throwing up her hair while Mila looks as if she’s fixed her own brunette locks with a fork. Mila’s wearing a tiara—as expected—but the rest of her little body is naked.

“What’s going on?” I cry. “There are things...everywhere!”

“Claire’s coming!” Emily stops for a moment before me. “She’s here, now. Luca called with the news. He’s coming in early to help.”

“Claire?” I freeze at the name. “But she wasn’t planning on coming until November!”

“Uh, exactly!” Emily says. “Now get your butt in gear and put on some decent clothes. And wipe that silly grin off your face and comb your sex hair,” she adds, quieter, as Mila disappears into her bedroom. “But first: how was it?”

For that fleeting moment, I forget all about Claire’s sudden appearance. My head rolls back onto my neck as my eyes close in bliss. “It was incredible.”

“I’m glad, sweetie. I do want to hear all about it, but—”

“Claire—right,” I tell her. “Of course. The one time I stay out late...”

“Hey, don’t regret it,” Emily says, grabbing my arm before I can sneak away. “You deserve to have some fun, and you seem really happy. Tyler was a gentleman?”

“Enough of one,” I say with a wink.

Emily’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, shit,” she whispers. “I haven’t seen you this excited about anything since Mila started sleeping through the night.”

“Yeah, well...” I shrug. “Guess I didn’t know what I was missing.”

“Mom!” Mila’s voice tears me away from my reminiscences with Emily. “Can you find me some pants?”

“And, back to life...” I say, hightailing it into the bedroom to continue with preparations. “Mila, what happened here?”

Her face crumples. “Sorry, mom. But I was trying to dress myself...”

Her room is a tornado zone. Buckets are overturned, her bed is a mess, and her hair still looks electrocuted. I set to work, and fourteen minutes later we have a girl who looks ready for school. Her disaster of a room will have to be dealt with later, since the bigger priority is shoving myself into a business outfit that won’t look drab next to Claire’s impeccable power suit.

Emily’s gone to her own room to prepare, and by the time I’ve managed to knot my hair in a bun, slip on a skirt and long-sleeved dress shirt, and dropped Mila off at school, I’m feeling marginally calmer. By the time I return to the inn, I’m forcing images of a shirtless Tyler Daniels out of my mind and attempting to channel Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada.

“She’s in the dining room,” Luca says, in one of his surprising full-sentence offerings. “They’re ready for you.”

I nod a thank-you to him and skip past Jax who, I realize, has bothered to throw on a button up over his normal T-shirt and jeans for the occasion. He gives me a quick raise of the eyebrows and nods toward the back, to the cozy little table in the corner that Claire prefers.

I make my way toward the snug little spot. It’s drenched in sunlight and has views that span across the nearby river and into the trees beyond. The fall colors are bright and popping this season, vibrantly setting the stage for beautiful lunchtime views.

“Claire,” I say, greeting the older woman with a double kiss to her cheeks. “It’s so good to see you! Why didn’t you tell us you were stopping by? We would’ve prepared something a little more special to celebrate.”

Claire waves a hand, her silver-white hair bright under the morning sun. Her blue eyes are paler than I remember, and her wrinkles are a bit deeper. Even her smile is a shade lighter than before, though a sense of contentment over everything gives her a more relaxed aura.

“No need to prepare anything special for me,” she says, her voice distinct in its smooth raspiness. “I like the day-to-day at this inn. It’s what guests like, too.”

I take the seat next to Emily, which prompts Jax to bring over a pot of tea and dainty china cups all around. He flips over a timer to let the tea steep as the three of us ladies finish up with the formal niceties.

“I won’t fool you by saying I’m just popping in to check on the business,” Claire says, stirring sugar into her second cup of tea. “I know you’re smarter than that.”

Jax has brought over a nifty little breakfast spread, but my stomach is doing so many flip flops I don’t trust myself to eat anything except a bit of toast. “What does bring you here?”

Emily, too, nibbles absently at some eggs as she waits for Claire to respond. The older woman takes her time, circling her hands around her teacup as she looks us in the eyes. “You girls know I trust you implicitly—hence the reason I hired you to run this place. It really is your inn, you know, I’ve simply supplied the financing.”

“It wouldn’t be an inn without financing,” I tell her. “Emily and I would be running a barn without your help.”

“Yes, well,” she says, and there’s a shake to her hand. “As you can see, I’m getting older. I have a lot of properties in town, and—”

Emily’s spoon clatters to the plate. “You’re selling the inn.”

“No,” she says, and then rephrases. “Not yet.”

Emily’s face goes pale, and I force myself to remain calm. We’d discussed this in the past, she and I. We both knew there would come a day when Claire couldn’t continue on with the inn, and we’d both agreed to work toward saving the funds needed to buy this place when the time came.

The problem is that the time can’t be now. We’re years away from saving up enough—we thought we’d have at least five to ten more good years of Claire’s support before we had to worry about it, and by then, the missing difference could be covered with a loan.

“The bookstore,” she says, nodding across the street. “I have an offer on it, and I’m considering taking it.”

“But, Julia,” Emily gasped. “Will the new owners keep the bookstore?”

“I don’t know. I’d hate to lose Julia; she’s such a wonderful employee. I feel so guilty, girls, but I’m getting older, and I can’t hold onto these properties forever,” she says with the slightest flinch. “My third grandson arrived a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been out to visit him yet. That’s not acceptable.”

“I’m sorry, Claire,” I tell her, and I mean it. The woman has been a godsend to us, and she’s kind to the bone. “We know how much you love this town, and your businesses, and we understand it’s hard to let go.”

“I wasn’t planning to sell anything so early, and I hated to do it, but it just wasn’t pulling in a profit. To top it off, I’ve been feeling guilty about how much time I’m still spending working...” Claire’s hands fall open. “I’ll be seventy soon enough. I need to be sitting on a porch somewhere, not discussing buyouts over lunch.”

I give her a smile. “You’re pretty incredible, I hope you know that.”

She gives a quick shake of her head. “That’s not true, but you’re kind to say it.”

“Of course you are,” Emily agrees. “And we’ll support your decision. Do you know who made the offer?”

Her mouth puckers up. “I do, but I’m hesitant to say too much. I’m supposed to have a meeting this week with the interested buyers. I may very well say no to them, but I didn’t want you girls to be blindsided. If the offer is too good to refuse...I might say yes.”

“And Julia?” Emily presses. “What will happen to her?”

Claire considers the woman who runs the bookstore. “I’ve been wondering if we might not have an extra job for her here.”

I glance to Emily, and her look mirrors mine. We don’t have room in the budget for another employee, but I don’t want to upset Claire.

“Maybe something part time with Lelia,” I offer. “We could start there, and see...”

“It’s not your responsibility to fret,” Claire says. “Who knows if anything will happen at all? I’ve always kept you girls informed of my plans, and I wanted to be upfront with you both.”

“We appreciate that,” I say, and Emily echoes the sentiment. “Let us know if we can help, or if you want us at that meeting.”

“Thank you,” Claire says, pulling herself to her feet. Sure enough, she’s moving slower now than before, and I’ll have to remind Mila that next time she sees Claire, she can’t bowl her over with one of her normal bear hugs. “This place is sparkling. Thank you for the brilliant work. Oh!” She holds up her finger as if she’s forgotten something. “I noticed you had the popcorn machine fixed. I’m so glad—it’s been on the fritz for years.”

Emily gives me a knowing stare, and it’s all I can do not to swallow my tongue. “Yep,” I say. “No problem.”

Emily rolls her eyes in the background, but recovers by the time she speaks again. “Will you be staying with us on this trip?

“I’ll be staying at the house,” Claire says with a wink. “You know where to reach me if you need. Also, I’m hoping to see you both at the Halloween party.”

“Of course,” I tell her. “We’ll be there.”

Emily and I watch as she eases into her sleek Lexus. She waves before pulling out of the driveway.

“She’s older,” Emily says. “Definitely older.”

“Do you think the inn will be next?”

“I don’t know.” I can hear the tightness in Emily’s chest. “I sure hope not. That could change everything.”

“Poor Julia,” I say, glancing across the street. “I wish we could hire her on here.”

“Me too,” Emily says. “Though it doesn’t help much if the inn goes next, does it?”

Thankfully, the phone behind the reception desk rings, and without thinking, I reach over and answer it. “Lilac Inn, this is Maggie,” I say. “How can I help you?”

“Maggie...” There’s an inhalation of breath. “Margaret Marshall?”

“Yes,” I say, frowning and turning away from Emily. “Can I help you?”

There’s a few quick breaths, and then the dial tone.

“That was weird,” I tell Emily. “A woman asked for me and then hung up.”

“Happens all the time,” Emily says. “They forget their credit card, or whatever, and then call back.”

As if on cue, the phone rings again, and this time, Emily answers. “Go shower,” she whispers. “You smell like a man.”

I leave Emily to deal with the mystery caller, wondering who would’ve addressed me as Margaret. On the website, I go by Maggie. Someone I know? I wonder.

“Yes, sir,” Emily says on the line. “We do have availability those dates.”

It’s not until I reach the shower that I realize Emily called the person on the phone Sir. The voice I’d talked to was most definitely female. I shake it off and climb under the hot water. As I wash my hair and let my worries slide down the drain with the shampoo, I wonder if Tyler Daniels is also thinking about the next night we’ll have together.

Though I hate to admit it, now that I’ve gotten the full view of Tyler’s smoking hot dad bod, I need more.