The baked cheesecake was unnecessary and Sorrell didn’t really understand why she had felt the need to make it. It was plain, a basic New York with a biscuit base made from biscuits she’d cooked a couple of days previously—again, a wasted job because there were no guests there to eat them and she’d forgotten to offer them to the builders.

She surveyed the creamy beige topping and wondered who the hell to give it to. Apart from Keren and Jake Maynard, she hadn’t met that many of the locals, preferring to keep to herself and get lost in the amount of tasks that needed to be done in the Manor House to get it ready for its opening. Structurally, the building was sound and had been well taken care of by the previous tenants, so apart from cosmetics and the small matter of merging bedrooms to make larger ones, it had been a simple job.

Simple.

It really hadn’t been simple. Mark was meant to take care of the renovations, with Sorrell simply looking at designs. It had been their pet project; starting a new life in a new town with a new venture and using Mark’s degree in hospitality and pursuing his dream.

Sorrell stabbed the cheesecake with a skewer to test its consistency, imagining it was Mark’s testicles. He’d fucked her over, there was no two ways about it, but there was no point in dwelling on it. Once the date when they should’ve been married had passed, she had decided she would start dating again, if she could say again because she hadn’t dated much before Mark. He’d been the third long term boyfriend she’d had, after her childhood sweetheart and her university sweetheart. Mark was her life sweetheart.

Or not.

She twisted the skewer in her hand, hearing the sound of the knocker on the door. No one was expected: Gwensi was arriving in the morning and Keren was taking a turn at the emergency dental clinic, probably dealing with bilious kids who’d eaten too much chocolate.

It was most likely teenaged trick or treaters, or the wind or someone who needed directions. She looked for her keys, trying to ignore the knocking which was becoming even more impatient.

“Just trying to find my keys!” she yelled, rummaging on the table where the biscuits had been.

“You won’t find them!”

The voice was familiar. Her stomach did an odd turn.

“Just a second!” she shouted, still looking.

“Sorrell, I have your keys! I’m letting myself in!”

She froze and stared at the door, hearing the familiar creak. Why did he have keys? The estate agent had told her all keys had been handed over.

“What the fuck?” Her arms flailed out wide like they always did when she was pissed off. “Why the fuck do you have keys still?” The thought spilled out of her mouth at full volume.

“Jonny’s daughter is clearly a magpie in disguise.”

Zack Maynard stood in the hallway of her nearly finished hotel, looking all kinds of something, cold being one of them, slightly out of breath another. And she wasn’t thinking about the third.

“I’m really sorry.” He handed her the set of keys with the feather on that she usually kept on the table where the biscuits had been. “Sadie just confessed to having taken them.”

“Oh.” Sorrell took the keys, looking from him to them and back again. “How did you get them?”

He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. She realised the gloves he’d had before were missing now. “She just picked them up. The keyring was pretty. That was probably what did it.”

“Can I get you a coffee? Or a hot chocolate? I don’t have any beer…” She brushed over what Sadie Grace had done. She was a child and children liked pretty things. Hell, she liked pretty things too—that was why she’d bought the keyring in the first place.

“Tea,” he said. “A mug of tea would be great. I think it’s just dropped about ten degrees on the way up here. It feels more like midwinter now instead of autumn.”

Sorrell gave him a nod and occupied herself with filling the kettle so she didn’t have to look at him.

The silence in the room felt awkward, lingering like a thick fog. She pulled out mugs and tea bags, and then collided into what must’ve been six feet of muscle as she headed to the fridge.

“Sorry,” she said, as hands held her at the shoulders. Cold hands.

“Sorry,” he muttered back, removing them. “Old habits die hard. I’m used to mucking in when I’m in this kitchen.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, thinking that the plan had always been to have someone else mucking in this kitchen with her. “If you know how to make the toilet in the cellar less temperamental have at it.”

His laugh didn’t sound like she expected. It was deep and smooth, controlled, and the sarcastic comment she’d half expected wasn’t there.

“We always thought it was haunted, that we had our own Moaning Myrtle down there,” Zack said. “Sometimes it’d flush with enough power to suck you down there too, and other times—”

“It just trickles,” Sorrell interrupted, pouring the hot water into the mugs. “I didn’t think about there being anything else at force other than bad plumbing.”

“We tried to get it fixed loads of times, but no plumber could find anything wrong,” Zack said. “About your keys—Sadie has a habit of collecting things. She saw your keys and they slipped into her pocket. I would’ve left bringing them till tomorrow until I saw they had your car key on them.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I thought you kept a set and were intent on pissing me off. Trying to get revenge still for the builders.”

Zack leaned back against the kitchen units and shrugged. “I’m still at a loss as to what to do for Christmas.”

She handed him a mug of steaming tea. “There’s no sugar in it.”

“I don’t take it,” he said.

“I figured you didn’t. How many do you need to seat for dinner?”

Zack shrugged. “Two sittings of around sixty. There are places around, but it’s the journey.”

Sorrell thought for a moment, watching the expression on his face and feeling a tidal wave of guilt. “Why don’t you just have it here?”

Zack clutched the mug hard enough to make it break. “What?”

Sorrell shrugged. “The hotel will be up and running in a couple of weeks. There are no guests over Christmas because we should’ve been on our honeymoon, so the ballroom and kitchen will be available. Would you be able to get your residents here easily?”

Zack nodded, mute.

“Then why don’t you think about holding it here? Your staff will know the layout, kind of, and it might be nice for some of the residents to see how it looks as a hotel.” She watched him still. He looked frozen, as if he had landed in a different dimension. Although he was dressed for Halloween as a vampire with his collar up and a thick cape, he’d forgone any of the make-up. His hair was a medium brown and looked as if it had been styled by fingers that had run through it in frustration, rather than with any need to impress anyone. He was attractive, the first attractive man she had noticed since Mark. Jake’s dimples had been impressive, but he was cute, rather than look twice attractive, for her anyway.

“What do you think? Is it an idea you can take back to your team? If you think it will work, just let me know what I’ll need to do to help you out. Hopefully it’ll make amends for stealing your builders.”

He finally moved out of his statue state. “Why?” he said.

Sorrell shrugged, pulling the oversized cardigan around herself tightly. At least she wasn’t painted with flour like she had been a bit ago. “I feel bad that I spoilt your plans.”

The vampire in her kitchen folded his arms and regarded her seriously.

She started to laugh, doubling slightly with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to take you seriously in that get-up. Were you really going to go to the bar in it?”

She saw him smile properly for the first time and then he fiddled with his collar. “I won’t be the only one dressed like something from a bad horror film,” he said. “And I get why you poached the builders. I know you have a business to sort.”

“So Christmas. What do you think?” she said, passing over the acknowledgement of understanding. She wanted to move on from that. It was going to take her a couple of years to get the hotel up and running to a place where it would be sellable and hopefully give her a small profit. She didn’t want to spend that time alienated from the people in the town.

“Why aren’t you going to be on your honeymoon?” he said, his brown eyes narrowing.

“You look like a cop standing like that. Apart from the Dracula look you have going.”

He pulled off the cape, leaving him in just the white shirt. “My brother’s a cop,” he said. “Maybe I’m catching something from him.”

“I thought your brother owned a bar?”

Zack nodded. “Yeah, that’s Scott. Alex is the cop. Jake, my cousin, is the farmer. Jake’s sister is the nursery teacher you heard Sadie mention. Why aren’t you going on your honeymoon?”

Sorrell pinched her lips together. “Because I’m not getting married anymore. Do you want a piece of cheesecake?”

This time Zack laughed, a loud blast of noise that seemed to fill the vast kitchen and most of the corridors. “I’ll never say no to cheesecake, but I wouldn’t mind a drink either. Looking after those three should come with a health warning. Or an extra allowance of alcohol.”

“I have a bottle of merlot, but that’s it. Want a glass? I was going to open it anyway,” she lied.

His lips curved again and her eyes stuck to them. He was a handsome man, not in the same way that Mark had been though. Zack was built from weights that weren’t found in a gym, and his skin suggested he’d never seen the inside of a beautician’s unless he was buying vouchers for his mum.

“I’m good. I’m not taking your wine when you’re clearly not opening it. You’re a shit liar, Sorrell,” Zack said. “I’ll have cheesecake though. Never let my brothers in by the way. If they know you bake, you won’t ever get them to leave.”

“Thanks for the head’s up. I’m hoping to bake for the guests when we finally open. And maybe appoint a chef to start up a little restaurant in the old annex.”

Zack nodded. “That’d be a good space for that. Why aren’t you getting married anymore? I heard this place had been bought by a couple.”

“We’re not a couple any longer,” she said, cutting a piece of the cheesecake and passing it to Zack on a plate with a fork. “He’s not coming back.”

“So you bought this place together and were getting married and now you’re not? That seems a little… drastic?” Zack said, accepting the plate.

Sorrell cut a large piece for herself. She’d lost weight, not that she had been trying. And the weight had pretty much come right off her boobs. She’d like them back, thank you very much, and it gave her a good excuse to eat sugar.

“He started seeing someone else. And left.” She tasted the cheesecake with the tip of her tongue and saw Zack watching her. “I think the idea of us being together and doing all the adulting shit had started to scare him.”

Zack nodded, saying nothing and she couldn’t read his expression.

“At least he went sooner rather than later,” she said, filling the silence. “I’ve had total autonomy which has kind of made things easier.”

“But you’re on your own in a town where you don’t know anyone,” he said, after inhaling the cheesecake. “That’s shit for a start. Although you could be in worse towns.”

Sorrell nodded. “I’ve met a few people. Keren’s lovely. Do you know her?”

Zack laughed again. She liked his laugh. It made his whole face break out into something joyful that made her want to smile too.

“I’m from Severton, sweetheart. We all know each other here. Me and Keren went to school together. Now she’s my dentist and I’ll probably see her soon—Jonny’s kids will probably need taking to her after they’ve eaten all that sugar,” he said. “I take it you’re one of her patients?”

Sorrell quickly swallowed, aware that she had cheesecake crumbs around her mouth. “First day here—I had a filling fall out.”

He nodded, smiling. “That’s how most people meet Keren. A few of the locals won’t actually go near her when they see her out in town. Bad memories and all that.”

“Poor Keren,” Sorrell said. She didn’t have a fear of the dentist and as she’d had a run in with Mark over the phone that morning, she’d been more angry about that than the tooth. Keren had translated Sorrell’s threats and cursing while she worked and the two had ended up going for drinks that evening, once the numbness had worn off. “Keren’s been a good friend, actually. She hasn’t told me too much about the people who live in this town though.” Which Sorrell supposed was strange, given that Severton was a labyrinth of characters and histories, and she hadn’t even skated over the surfaces of that labyrinth.

“Keren’s a good person, unless you ask Scott. Then she’s the devil with a pair of pliers,” Zack said.

“Bad teeth?”

“Bad chemistry.”

“Oh.” Sorrell gave him a smile, putting her plate down. “She never said anything about him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Zack said. “Ask her. Then maybe let me know her side, because I’ve never had a straight story out of him.” One side of his mouth curled upwards and Sorrell planted her feet further into the floor to stop herself from walking closer to him.

“Girl code states I wouldn’t be able to,” she said. “Look, I’ve over-baked. Can I bring some to your care home on Saturday? There’s no way me and my friend will finish all this.”

“The builders will help,” he said as he looked around the room at the piles of cakes and muffins.

“I’m so sorry again. I should’ve thought. But I meant what I said about using here for Christmas dinner. It won’t be a problem,” Sorrell said.

Zack’s arms crossed his chest again and she saw muscles tense beneath his shirt. He shook his head and looked up to the ceiling. “Look, I hate apologising, although I should be used to it because of all the shit Sadie Grace does, but I’m sorry about being a jerk to you. I get that you have a livelihood to think of. And thank you for the offer for letting us use here for Christmas. I suspect we’ll take you up on it.”

It was like her lungs had been gently pierced, letting the air slip out and her shoulder sag. Pissing people off was not her game, but she knew that running a hotel on her own would mean she couldn’t be little miss nice all the time else she’d never succeed.

Zack picked up his vampire cape from where he’d left it. “You need a proper induction to Severton. What are you doing on the fifth?”

“Bonfire night?”

He nodded. “Yep. Bonfire night.”

“I was just going to stay in…” That had been the plan. A night in, more time to think about the hotel and budgets and recruitment and the wedding that was planned—and her wedding that had been called off.

“You can’t just stay in, Sorrell. This town is as mad as a box of fucking insane frogs that have forgotten their medication, but you’ll never die of boredom if you join them. Will you come out with me for bonfires and fireworks?”

She felt her cheeks redden as they did far too quickly, a curse of being a redhead. Maybe it was the thought of the heat of the bonfire or maybe it was the idea of being around new people in a new community. Or maybe it was because of the man in front of her who had biceps bigger than her handbag and a smile that suggested he knew lots of dirty things.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than take me around town. Your girlfriend…” she said, almost spluttered. There was no way he was single. She hadn’t really noticed until he was standing in front of her without the distraction of his temper or his friend’s children that he was, well, hot.

And now she couldn’t stop noticing.

“I don’t have one,” he said. “And I’m not asking you out on a date. Not that…” He stopped abruptly. “I’m going to quit that sentence because that’s me digging a bigger hole. Come see the bonfire and fireworks. Eat hot dogs and burgers and pull your filling out on bonfire toffee. Meet the locals. Have fun.”

“Your brothers and friends won’t mind?” Sorrell said, starting to feel anxious. She had to get over this worry of being in new situations else she’d never be able to run a hotel.

Zack shook his head slowly. “No. I’ll finish work at five that day. Be ready for five thirty and I’ll call for you. We can walk into town together.”

She nodded, not sure of what to say. She wanted to go; she loved bonfires and fireworks, the smoke and excitement and it felt like a long time since she’d had any excitement. “Five-thirty. I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” he said, picking up a muffin. “I’ll see you then. Hide your keys from Sadie Grace if she turns up in the meantime.”

He strode out of the building, his phone ringing. Sorrell vaguely heard him speak as he closed the door behind him, telling someone that he was on his way and to have a beer ready. Probably his brothers. Or cousins. Or friends.

She returned to her cakes and biscuits and began to box them up, trying not to feel lonely.