thing she had remotely suitable for such an event. Waiting for Greg to collect her, she had felt nervous and like a fraud. She wasn’t a proper businesswoman; at least she didn’t feel like one then. She was a widow who had bought a huge house and was feeling totally out of her depth. She’d spent most of the evening standing nervously in the corner and couldn’t help admire the way Greg worked the room, shaking hands and chatting easily to people.
He seemed to know all the jargon and buzzwords, which sounded like a foreign language to Eva. It had been terrifying making conversation with strangers but somehow she’d got through it, leaving with a handful of business cards and knowing a few new faces.
Since then, there’d been a host of things for Eva to get to grips with. Finding the right suppliers, registering with the tourist board, getting to grips with marketing and running a website. Every now and again, Greg descended upon her with these little visits for no particular reason Eva could fathom. She was pretty sure – at least she hoped – Greg’s motives were well intentioned but she had instinctively kept her distance from him.
Clearly he was an astute businessman and a serious networker but his reputation with women wasn’t something Eva wanted to experience first-hand. He was certainly handsome in an obvious way and from what she’d heard there was no shortage of women who appreciated his particular brand of charm.
But he was way too smooth for Eva – there was a fine line between charm and smarm. Like his five-star hotel, everything about him was a little too polished and posed for Eva’s taste – his silky smile always at the ready. A snapshot of the one and only smile she’d seen from Ben Matthews popped into her head – where on earth had that come from?
Giving herself a little shake Eva followed Greg into the hall where he was looking around with an appraising air. Eva had the sudden image of a big over-friendly dog coming to mark his territory in some way.
‘Can I get you something, Greg? A drink?’ she asked.
‘No time thanks,’ he replied. His eyes flicked to his smartphone as though something vitally important could come through any second and Eva thought he might get on well with Sarah.
‘You know there’s a big conference at the university in a couple of weeks?’
‘Sure,’ Eva lied. One of the benefits of not opening in winter was not having to be up to speed with every event in the town.
‘Six hundred delegates arriving for two nights – obviously we’re fully booked. But I’ve experienced a few er, technical issues with our new booking system leaving me with two guests and no rooms to offer them. I’d like to be able to tell them I’ve made arrangements for alternative accommodation.’ He gave her a silky smile. ‘And of course, I thought of you. I know you close in winter but I was hoping I could rely on you to take two guests for a couple of nights?’
For some reason the thought of his slick operation not running smoothly made Eva want to giggle but she knew she would agree. It wasn’t just that she wanted to help – of course she did. Nor was it for the extra income even though it would be welcome. If she was honest, she jumped at the chance of having something to do. Jamie’s longer days at school left her with more time on her hands and, alarmingly, she was discovering the joys of daytime television. The theme music to Bargain Hunt was beginning to sound oddly comforting and Eva didn’t think that was a good thing.
‘Of course, that won’t be a problem. Would you like me to contact them directly?’
He nodded in confirmation. ‘I’ll let them know we’ve got accommodation and I’ll email you with their details. That all right with you?’
‘Sure, that’s fine with me.’ With that sorted Greg looked about with an approving air.
‘So, your place is looking good, Eva,’ he commented.
‘Er, thanks.’
‘You have a good summer season?’
‘Really good, yes.’
‘Still suits you to close in winter?’ He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘Um, yes –’ Greg pounced on her split-second hesitation.
‘So you would consider opening all year?’
‘That’s not what I –’
‘There’s plenty of business out there you know,’ he interrupted. ‘Lots of people choosing staycations. Scotland is a top destination – St Andrews is thriving. In the next couple of months alone there’s jazz, poetry, and film festivals … hundreds of visitors all looking for a nice place to stay.’ He was pacing up and down now, getting into his stride, his pungent aftershave wafting about after him.
‘Well, it’s not really –’ Eva began.
‘Have you ever thought about expanding?’
‘Expanding?’ Eva blinked.
‘You could get a drinks licence, serve food, open all year round … There’s a lot of potential here. For example, what special offers do you run?’
‘Depending on how busy it is, I sometimes offer three for two nights.’ He seemed to dismiss that with a wave of his hand.
‘You could do much more. St Andrew’s day is coming up, Burns night – all good for winter trade. Some guest houses tie in with the golf courses – offer three nights with three rounds of golf, that type of thing.’
Eva nodded her head, making interested but non-committal noises.
‘If it’s the financial side of things you’re concerned about, I’d be more than happy to discuss investment opportunities. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner one night?’
Eva rubbed her temple feeling like she’d stepped on a runaway train and needed to figure out how to stop it. She straightened her shoulders and mustered her firmest voice. ‘It’s really not something I’m thinking about at the moment, Greg. But thanks anyway.’ She took a step towards the front door indicating for him to follow.
‘No need to make any decisions just now. Have a think about it.’ He patted her arm, gracing her with a final smile as he left.
Eva felt odd after she’d shown Greg out. He hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know but his words rattled about uncomfortably in her head. Recently, some part of her brain – the part that knew it would make financial sense as well as fill her days – had been mulling over the possibility of opening in winter. But another part of her brain simply refused to contemplate the change. Did she really want guests in her house the whole year round? But one thing she was sure of, whatever happened she certainly wouldn’t be discussing anything with Greg Ritchie and becoming one of his pet projects or anything else for that matter.
Returning to the kitchen she reached for her laptop, wincing as she took a mouthful of now cold tea. Once she received the guests’ details from Greg she’d send emails confirming their reservations. She clicked on the university website and found the conference Greg had mentioned: a major event with delegates arriving from all over the world. She scanned through the information, reading out loud as she scrolled down. ‘International Science Conference … bringing together leading scientists … guest speakers … workshops, coffee breaks, evening receptions …’
The
