Anna said, reaching for her coffee.
Ruth rolled her eyes and flopped into her chair. “Don’t be silly, Mum. I know you had problems with Grandma Nancy, but it’s Carrie’s inn now. Of course it’s going to be perfect.”
Carrie tried very hard not to wince at that. “There’s still a lot of work to be done to bring the inn up to scratch,” she admitted. “But assuming you’re sticking to your original Christmas Eve wedding date...” She paused and waited for Selena’s nod.
“The Save-the-Date cards have already been printed,” Ruth added. Carrie got the impression Ruth might have organized that first and told her mother later.
“Which gives us almost two months to turn the Avalon Inn into your dream venue. And I’ve already found a builder willing to work to our timeframe.” Carrie gave them both a wide, reassuring smile before diving into the risky but potentially winning argument she’d come up with at four in the morning. “And the advantage of yours being the first wedding planned at the new Avalon, of course, is that you’ll be able to work with me to make sure the alterations to the inn work for your wedding.” Selena perked up hugely at that, and Uncle Patrick looked suddenly…hungry. “Within reason, of course,” Carrie added hastily.
“Of course.” Selena’s voice suggested that her idea of reasonable might be very different from Carrie’s.
But there was no time to dwell on what was possibly the biggest mistake Carrie had made all year. “Why don’t we take a tour of the inn, and then we can come back here to discuss the specifics?” Carrie said, hoping Jacob’s concept of customer service stretched to clearing up the coffee cups before they came back down. Just as long as he left the cakes.
“I’ll catch you up,” Uncle Patrick said as he pulled his ringing phone from his pocket. “Need to take this. Besides, you’ve got Anna to give you the professional opinion. I might just go check out the bar…”
Of course. Because a drunk Uncle Patrick was just what the day needed. Just as long as Aunt Selena was driving.
“Let’s start with the bedrooms,” Carrie said, motioning for them to take the stairs first.
“I’m really so sorry,” Ruth murmured again as she passed her. Aunt Selena said nothing. And Anna…
“I rather think this might have been a very rash move of yours, Carrie,” Anna said. “Just as well you’ve got your family here to bail you out again, isn’t it? Well, if I tell Patrick it’s worth his while.”
The only thing that stopped Carrie from wishing that Anna would trip and fall down the stairs was the fact that she’d inevitably land on Carrie herself.
Nate balanced precariously with one foot on the edge of the bed, the other on the bedside table, and wondered aloud why he hadn’t been permitted to just go and fetch a stepladder.
“No time!” Cyb said from her look-out position at the door. “What if they came up here and found you halfway up a ladder? That doesn’t say quality, luxury inn, now, does it?”
“What does me lying flat on my back with a broken leg and a lacy canopy draped over me say?” Nate asked, shifting with care to pin the next section of the bridal canopy in place.
“It says you stopped paying attention to what you were doing, and that’s why you injured yourself,” Moira put in from the window, where she stared out at the car Ruth and Selena had arrived in. “I’m not sure I liked the look of them, you know.”
“I don’t think that really matters much to Carrie, to be honest,” Nate said, finally pinning the last corner securely. “They’re her family.”
“Nancy never liked the mother, though, did she?” Moira shook her head. “She’s taking a big chance on them.”
“I think she’s trying to find a way to earn enough money to get this place fixed and up and running. What do you think?” Nate asked, jumping down to admire his handiwork.
“I think she should be careful who she chooses to work with,” Moira said, still looking out of the window.
“About the canopy,” Nate clarified, and Moira and Cyb both turned to see.
Cyb clapped her hands together, letting the door bang shut. “Oh, Nate! It’s perfect!”
“It looks lovely,” his gran agreed, and Nate allowed himself a sigh of relief.
“Thank God for that, because I’m not getting back up there. That bedside table is not safe.”
A noise in the corridor made them all stop. “Was that...?” Moira whispered, and Nate shrugged.
Cyb pushed the door open just an inch and peeked out, then pulled her head back and nodded violently. “They’ve just gone into the Blue Room at the end of the corridor.”
Nate looked at all the bits and bobs they still had strewn across the bed and came to a decision. “Okay, you two run for it.” When both women hesitated, Nate went on, “At least I’m actually employed here. You two have no excuse.”
Moira nodded and grabbed her friend’s arm. “Come on, Cyb.” Then they ran.
That Nate managed to get all the tools, fabric swatches and carrier bags stowed away under the bed before Carrie and her guests reached the bridal suite was, he felt, quite an achievement in itself. The look on Carrie’s face when she found him there suggested she didn’t appreciate the effort.
“Nate,” she said, her voice chilly. “Anna, Ruth, Aunt Selena, this is our gardener and handyman, Nathanial Green.” Her attention went straight back to her clipboard, but Nate decided to put off figuring out why she was avoiding his eyes until later.
Wait, Anna? Carrie’s ex-boss? Well, that didn’t bode well. But there was nothing he could do about it, so instead he smiled a welcome. “Just checking on the room, ready for your visit,” he told them. The prospective bride gave him a wide, beaming grin, which made him feel more uncomfortable than anything else.
But then she flashed that same, wicked smile at Carrie, and Nate could see the obvious affection she had for Carrie in that glance. “Isn’t it wonderful, Mum?” Ruth said, obviously trying to win Selena over for Carrie, and Nate started to think maybe Gran was wrong about her.
He’d almost managed to slip out of the door before Carrie noticed the changes to the room, but not quite. As the mother, Selena, said, “Well, the bed is quite impressive, I suppose,” Carrie looked up from her list in confusion and stared at the huge four-poster bed decked out in white lace and linen and looking most inviting.
“It’s gorgeous,” Ruth said, before draping herself across it as if she owned it. Nate hid a grin. He’d known the bed would be a big incentive for any bride. Or groom, for that matter.
Where was the groom, anyway? Jacob was going to be miffed if he was cooking duck with berry reduction for no reason. And what had happened to the father of the bride?
“Yes, it’s one of my favourite features,” Carrie said, getting a grip on the situation.
