think you’re a little homesick. If you give it a chance, this will be the best thing you ever did.”
I could empathize with Georges. I’d felt the same when I’d first arrived in New York. A country girl suddenly thrust into the big city, blinded by bright lights, fast talkers, and so much traffic. But each day had got a little better until I’d become one of those subway-catching, cosmopolitan-drinking locals, snatching every minute of the day to do things I’d never tried before. And it had been so worth it. Worth the nights I’d cried into my pillow, the mornings I’d been fuzzy with confusion, lonely among so many people. It was a learning curve, and when you’d done it once you could do it again, quicker, braver.
“Thanks, Clio. I know you’re right. I do. It’s just so different, but that’s what I wanted, right? To be busy, to not spend every waking minute worrying about making enough money.”
“Now you’ll have money to burn, Georges! And when you have your days off, think of the places you’ll see! Sailing around the world on someone else’s dime is nothing to sneeze at.”
It was like I could hear the cogs in his brain whirr as he warmed to the idea. “Yeah, not many people get to travel the world and get paid to do it. It was nice talking to you, Clio. Keep in touch, yeah?”
I smiled. “Send us postcards at every exotic port of call.”
“Will do,” he said jovially. “Give my love to everyone.”
Just then I heard the pitter patter of tiny feet and that could only mean one thing. Trouble. “Where are you, you little varmint!” I said jokingly, watching as the fluffy ball of fur heavy-breathed his way under my desk. I bent on hands and knees to grab him before he used my antique handwoven rug as his personal toilet or nibbled on one of my spare pairs of high heels, tossed under there in case of surprise customer arrivals.
I scrabbled for him, darting a hand and grabbing air. I huffed.
“What on earth are you doing, darling? Is that one of your yoga moves?”
I started and smashed my head into the top of the desk as I tried to retreat, realizing it probably wasn’t my best angle, rump in the air, jiggling around for the world to witness. The little fur ball barreled backwards out of sight, and my hand came to rest in a still-warm puddle. “Amory! He’s peeing all over the place!”
She laughed from behind me. “There’s absolutely no point harping on about it now, darling. What’s done is done. All the puppy-training manuals say you have to catch them before they commit the act; yelling like a banshee after does absolutely nothing except confuse the poor mite.” Scotty dashed out of the office and down the hall to the front door, his little paws clip-clopping on the wooden floorboards.
Ungraciously, I managed to shimmy my way out from beneath the desk and Amory handed me a wet-wipe to clean up as she laughed. “Jesus, did you have a nap down there? Darling, you’re quite bedraggled…”
“What?”
Before she could answer, Isla, Micah and Kai trooped in. The trio gave me a slow once-over, alarmed at my heavy breathing and red face, hair sticking up at odd angles. Running my hands through my riotous hair I pasted on a serene ‘I’m in control’ smile and said, “How’d it go with Ned?”
“Great,” Kai said, hiding a smirk. “He’s signed off on the chapel, and has agreed to the plan for the chalets. Only kicker is, you need a registered builder on-site at all times…” He trailed off.
“Oh, but…” I stopped short as a car slipped into the driveway, pulled to an abrupt halt, and Timothy climbed out. I frowned, hoping it wasn’t another issue with the New Year’s Eve party. Looking back to Kai I smiled distractedly. My mind was whirling as I tried to troubleshoot any potential problems while thinking I should really respond to what Kai had just said. “Sorry, Kai, could you repeat that?”
Amory nodded at Tim through the window, then headed toward the front door to let him in. Turning back to Kai I tried once more to concentrate on what he was saying.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Scotty careening through the snow and running straight for Timothy. Before I could even so much as shout out, he skittered under Timothy’s feet sending him flying. Holy moly! Timothy fell in a heap, letting out an oomph as he landed hard on the ice.
“Oh, no!” I raced outside, pushing past Amory, who’d frozen on the spot, her face pinched with worry. “Are you OK?” I asked breathlessly.
Tim stood and brushed snow from his jeans, a rueful grin on his face. “Sure, sure, he caught me by surprise, is all.”
Amory scooped up Scotty and held him to her chest. “I am so sorry, Tim, he just ran out! I thought for a minute you’d landed on him, and my heart just about stopped.”
“Hey, he’s a puppy, he didn’t do it on purpose,” Tim said. “And he was well clear of me, don’t worry.”
“Are you OK, little man?” Cruz said as he wandered out, standing next to Amory while she searched Scotty for any cuts or bruises as he wriggled in her hands. The care she was taking over him showed a completely different side to Amory. All of her untapped maternal instincts were coming to the surface and although, sure, she might never have wanted to be a mother in the real sense, her protective instinct was still strong.
“He’s fine,” I said to Cruz. “Tim took the brunt of the fall, Scotty scampered out of the way.”
“Sorry, Tim,” Amory said again, pulling her attention away from the squirming puppy. “It’s just he’s so little and fragile, you know. He’s just a baby really.”
“Is everything OK with the party?” I asked Tim, worried another unofficial visit spelled trouble.
He slung his hands into his pockets as we walked to the door. “Yes, Vinnie’s happy, invites are sent, and Cruz has the new menu sorted. I’m here to steal Cruz and Amory away actually. I’ve lined up a range of cottages to show them in the area.”
“Oh, of course.” They really were serious about moving to Evergreen and starting a life here. Part of me understood their need for a space of their own, but still, I’d miss them at the lodge. My mornings with Amory, slowly awakening as the sun split the sky, our chats over coffee and cake.
“We’ll just grab our coats,” Amory said, pulling Cruz inside with her.
As we followed slowly behind, Tim motioned toward my office and said, “Can I talk to you for a sec, Clio?”
“Sure.”
In my office we sat at the desk. “What’s up?”
He fumbled with the sleeve of his sweater. “I was… It’s just that… How did you get on with the cocktail menu?”
The cocktail menu? I sensed that wasn’t what Tim really wanted to ask. No one normally got nervous asking about gin and tonics. “I thought I emailed you? Anyway,” I smiled, “we’ve hired a mixologist for the evening, so he can fling those cocktail shakers and wow the guests, without spilling a drop.” Mixologists were worth their weight in gold. They had an innate sense of how to entertain people, not only with their cocktail knowledge but also their upbeat personalities and general sense of fun. They were worth every penny, and we never scrimped on hiring the best we could find for
