There simply hadn’t been time to decorate when the units were vacant.
Once inside the community center where her Painting with Pals class would be held, she dumped everything on the table. Praying it would be one of her usuals who wouldn’t care about the decorations, she opened the app.
And frowned.
Normally, it gave her the full name of the person who made the reservation, but this time it only gave her a username. Great. That meant it was a VIP. Very few people were granted the use of only a username. The person had great ratings, though, and lots of them.
It made her feel even worse that it wasn’t decorated. If it was some VIP, then the person likely had enough clout to get ahold of Kraz himself to complain.
Could her sister get over and at least put some garland on the banister?
No. She hadn’t been sleeping much, between taking care of Nana and Papa, cleaning of the units, working part-time at the bakery, and helping Wendy with their side-hustles.
Not that Wendy had slept much either.
With a sigh, she tapped out a quick personalized message then copied and pasted her standard instructions into the box. It had the key code as well as her YadaYada voice-over-internet-protocol number so she’d get messages on her phone but not give out her actual number.
She set up the community center for her painting class. Usually, the once-a-week class was full with locals and visitors alike. This week, she’d nearly canceled, but the two people still scheduled to come had pleaded with her via text to keep the class.
Mama Beach and her niece, Lani, walked in together as she finished getting everything ready.
“Thank you, Wendy,” Mama Beach called as she took her coat off and tossed it on one of the extra tables. “I know you’d rather be home getting some rest, but we appreciate you being here.”
“Harrison and I are supposed to make the presents this year,” Lani told her. “I just wish that I could be there to watch him make one for me. Royal boy isn’t exactly the most creative. I’d wait for another day, but we leave for San Majoria in the morning. His sister, Jacqueline Grace, is finally getting married.”
Though several royal families had ties to the Serenity Landing area, Lani marrying Prince Harrison of San Majoria was pretty much the biggest thing to ever happen in Trumanville - except for the HEA TV movie that premiered the night before. Attending that event was the biggest thing that had happened in Wendy’s life so far.
The door banged open to let someone else in. Wendy looked up to see Jazz Jackson rush in.
“Please tell me you have room for one more?” Jazz clasped her hands together as she pleaded.
Wendy smiled outwardly, but inside she cringed a bit. She loved Jazz, everyone did, but the woman could be a lot. The extrovert’s extrovert with a bit of a wild streak - at least what passed for a wild streak in conservative Trumanville. The studded nose ring and blue-green hair probably made her parents roll their eyes - but if that was the worst thing she did, it would all be fine.
If Wendy could survive her chatter.
“Of course,” Wendy told her. “Have a seat.”
“Yay! What are we painting?” Jazz sat down on the other side of Mama Beach.
“A snowman,” Wendy told her. “Nothing too exciting.” Nothing she would have thought Jazz would like - way too plain for the vivacious young woman.
“Fantastic!”
For the next hour, they went through the process to make a snowman in the middle of an evergreen forest.
As expected, Jazz kept up a steady stream of conversation. Mama Beach and Lani were both content to let her, though they joined in whole-heartedly.
When they were finished, all three of them took turns blow drying their canvases so they wouldn’t get any paint in their cars.
Jazz was still chattering with them when they left.
Mama Beach came back in as Wendy cleaned up. “I love that girl, but she can talk.” She gave a slight shake of her head. “Sometimes quiet can be good.”
“Agreed.” Wendy picked up her example canvas and the one she’d made as the others worked.
“What can I take?”
Wendy shook her head. “I’ve got this. Could you lock up behind me?”
“Of course.”
A blast of cold air hit Wendy as she walked out of the building. Her apartment, in the same building as the KrazBnBs, was only about a block away, but walking it would take what was left of her energy.
“Goodnight, Mama Beach,” she called over her shoulder as the older woman locked the door and stuck her keys back in her pockets.
She reached the front door to her apartment and dug the keys out.
“Hey.”
Wendy turned to look toward the door to the largest of the units. She pasted on her widest smile. “Hi! You must be KrazUser01. Welcome to Trumanville.”
He frowned. “I am, but I have a problem. Is this your rental?”
Good thing the smile was glued in place. “It is. Let me set my things down inside, and I’ll be right back to help you.”
He gave a single nod.
Once in the door, her smile slipped as she dropped the things on the table. She blinked the tears of stress back and slipped the smile back in place as she headed out the door to face this guy.
If only it didn’t feel like she was headed for her doom.
Chapter 2
Was that the same woman who’d run into him earlier in the day? Dean suspected it was, though he hadn’t gotten a very good look at her either time.
A minute after she entered the other door, the woman came back out.
She gave him a big smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She held out a gloved hand. “Hi. I’m Wendy.”
He shook her hand, uncertain of what to make of the spark he felt. That was new. “Dean.”
“Hi, Dean. What can I help you with?”
Opening the door to the cozy living area, he waited to let her in first. Normally, he was careful about being alone with a woman - he’d seen one too many friends falsely accused of something in the hopes of a payout - but Wendy put him at ease for reasons he didn’t understand.
“I’m trying to get some work done, but the internet speeds aren’t what I need.” He pointed to his laptop sitting on the coffee table.
Her brows pulled together. “That’s odd. I haven’t heard anything about service issues.”
“It’s working,” he told her. “Just not very fast.”
“Hm.” She picked up the remote and turned on the television. With a few clicks, she had MyBingeFlix pulled up and clicked on some reality show about a baseball player and his wife holed up in a house somewhere.
After buffering for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only ten or fifteen seconds, it began to stream. “It looks like it’s working right,” she told him. “Sometimes it slows down and you can’t stream, but it looks to be working just fine.”
Dean tried not to frown. “This is as fast as it gets?”
“I guess? I’ve never tested speeds or whatever unless I’m having issues and they tell me to on the phone.” She stopped the episode as drone footage of the courthouse up the street caught his eye. This show was local?
He stifled a sigh. “You’re telling me this is as fast as it gets?”