Mackenzie laughed. “Been there, done that. Just one of the many hazards of being an artist … along with dry hands from all the clay and painting so many damn sailboats I want to scream.”
“Are they in demand?” Evie asked, gulping her coffee.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Mackenzie gave a shrug. “But who am I kidding? Those sailboat dishes pay my rent a dozen times over. That reminds me, I have the bowls you ordered ready for pickup.”
“Oh, thanks,” Evie said. “Would you mind holding onto them another day? I don’t want to risk carrying them home right now. Knowing my luck, I’d smash them all to pieces before I made it across the square,” she added.
“How about I send Noah over with them?” Mackenzie asked with a grin. “He may as well earn his keep, right?”
“Right,” Evie replied, feeling her cheeks heat again.
Not that he wasn’t already earning it in many delicious, sexy ways …
Mackenzie must have seen her expression, because she laughed. “I know that smile. So things are still going well? I was afraid dinner with the family would send you running for the hills.”
Evie was about to ask how she knew about that, then stopped. Who was she kidding? A town crier had probably strolled through the square first thing that morning, updating everyone on her latest romantic updates. “Dinner was … interesting,” she said instead.
“Ha!” Mackenzie snorted. “You’re so polite. Next time, take a baggie to hide your food,” she advised.
Evie laughed. “That’s what Noah said. I didn’t believe him—but I do now.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll teach you all the tricks for surviving the Montgomery family cooking,” Mackenzie said cheerfully. “That is … if you’re planning on coming to any more family dinners?” She gave Evie an expectant look.
“Is that a thinly veiled question about how things are going with Noah?” she shot back, and Mackenzie laughed.
“See, I knew I liked you. Enough to warn you that Aunt June is headed in our direction,” she added, glancing over Evie’s head. “And ‘thinly veiled’ definitely isn’t part of her deal. Go, quick!” she whispered, “Save yourself before she starts quizzing you!”
“Thanks!”
Evie bolted away so fast she nearly spilled her coffee, but she made it back to the inn without any other strangers asking personal questions about her love life.
She had to smile, as she unlocked the front door. Living in a small town was definitely a change, but despite the nosy neighbors, she couldn’t help but enjoy it. Having people who cared about her, who were rooting for her and Noah to be happy together … it was sweet.
Overbearing, but sweet.
“Hello?” she called out, stepping inside—and coming back down to earth with a bump. Never mind lazy mornings tangled up with Noah in the sun-dappled sheets: she still had plastic tarpaulins draped over every surface and “wet paint” signs on the walls. It was time to get back to real life, if she wanted to make this inn a success. Evie wandered through the foyer, following the buzz of a drill to the back parlor, where she found two of the construction crew up on ladders, doing something they had promised would result in some historical-looking wainscoting.
Whatever that was.
“Hey Evie. Cooper went to pick up the kitchen cabinets,” Eggsy said, pausing the saw. “Oh, and the phone company sent a technician round. Your internet is all hooked up.”
Evie gasped in delight. “There’s Wi-Fi?”
“Enough to stream all the por—” He stopped, catching himself. “Sports. All the sports you like.”
Evie laughed. “Sure. That’s exactly what you meant.” She gave him a wink and left them to it, heading upstairs to change her clothes. She pulled on some denim cut-offs and a sweater and settled into her makeshift office with the gorgeous ocean view—which was getting blocked with stacks of paperwork and invoices from all the many, many things she’d ordered that would hopefully be delivered sometime between now and when people arrived actually wanting a bed for the night—or a dining table to eat their breakfast at.
It was all coming together, she reminded herself, before she could freak out at the mountain of work still to be done. She had a plan and a list, and soon, things would fall into place.
Evie retrieved her laptop and called Jules. “Guess who has internet?”
“Finally!” Jules exclaimed. She’d been bugging Evie all week about getting connected. “Anyone would think you were doing a whole ‘off the grid’ thing out there. You know, that’s actually now a bad idea,” she mused. “Digital detox, back to nature, all that jazz. It’s very hot right now.”
“I think my guests are going to want some creature comforts,” Evie said wryly. “And if they don’t, I definitely do!” She gulped down the last of her coffee. “So what is it that’s so important you made me sign up for the ultra-deluxe package?”
“Only your brand-new, shiny, spectacular reservation system.”
Evie squealed. “You got it set up!”
“Running like clockwork,” Jules replied, directing her to the login page and talked Evie through the whole thing.
“Amazing,” Evie breathed, clicking through. “This is so simple, even I can do it!”
Jules laughed. “That’s the point. I took the liberty of setting your prices, too,” she added.
Evie’s eyes widened at the figures she’d posted. “I can’t charge that, can I?”
“Of course you can!” Jules insisted. “Didn’t you say those stuffy inns were charging an arm and a leg for their rooms?”
“Well, yes,” Evie hedged, looking around the empty room that still needed another coat of paint. “But they’re established—”
“And you need to show you can hold your own. Believe it or not, people get suspicious when things are too cheap,” Jules said. “Remember that bar on Newbury that offered five-dollar foie gras?”
Evie laughed. They’d kept a running dare for the other to try it, but nobody had ever been brave enough. “OK, OK, I’ll think about it.”
“No need to think too hard, you already have your first booking.”
“What?” Evie’s jaw dropped. “How do they even know about the inn?”
“I told you, babe, people love seeing the process. People are really connecting to your story.”
Evie blinked. “Which is …?”
“Starting over—a new chapter in life. Bringing a magnificent relic back from the dead.”
“Are you talking about the inn or me?” Evie joked, and Jules let out a snort of laughter.
“I think Noah’s taking care of that last one.”
Evie grinned. Oh, he was. “But wait,” she said, reminding herself to focus on work, not play. “I can’t take bookings yet. The inn won’t be ready for guests for weeks!”
“Which is why I put your opening date in June,” Jules said reassuringly. “That’s plenty of time.”
“Oh.” Evie stopped. “June. I can do that.”