Page 67 of Resorting to Romance

“I know. Johann … Schmidt. Your last name is Schmidt.”

“And you can call me Johann.”

“So, was there a death, Schmitty?”

Johann’s face is a mask of indifference with only the slightest sneer of his left nostril.

“Not that I know of,” he answers my bestie.

Chloe’s always poking the bear whenever she and Johann are at the inn on the same day. Thankfully, he only comes in for a few hours a couple times a week.

“Well, tell your face,” my bestie says like she’s in seventh grade all over again.

“If my face looks like I’m in mourning, I’m only grieving the blessed silence when you are elsewhere. Instead, you insist onbeing on Mila’s payroll while spending your time trying to get a rise out of me. You’re wasting her money.”

“A rise? Oh. I got a rise. You see that one hair in the middle of your right eyebrow? It flinched. No. It actually wiggled like it was doing the hula. The hula, Schmidt! You have a hula-dancing brow hair. What are you going to do about that?”

“I will pluck it later. Now, get to work.”

“I’m sorry, did you just tell me to get to work?”

“I did.”

Chloe beams. She’s having far too much fun.

“I’ll get to work when you flash me a smile, sir.”

Johann turns to Chloe and the smile he gives her is thriller-level spooky. He’s not a bad man—obviously. I wouldn’t have him do my bookkeeping if he were. He’s just … stoic. Reserved. And, okay. Grumpy.

“Chloe, a word?” I tip my chin in the direction of the kitchen.

Chloe ignores me. “That was frightening, Schmidt. Good thing Noah’s still at school. He’d have nightmares.”

“Noah doesn’t bother me.”

“How lovely. He doesn’t bother you? The world’s most precious boy doesn’t bother you? Oh, Schmidt. I pity you. What do you do on weekends? You know. For fun?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Of course not! I have a husband. You know that. My man doesn’t smile like a clown in a horror movie, either. I’m just curious. So, back to my question. In fact, I might die of curiosity. What do you do? Roast squirrels over an open flame? Collect sand dabs with tweezers and pin them to a cork board to hang on your walls? Dust the doorjambs until they pass the white glove test?”

“Chloe?” I call my bestie again.

“I smiled.” Johann grins again, both sets of teeth bared and clenched, his eyes wide. It's very Jack Nicholson as the Joker. “Now shoo.”

“It’s the squirrels, isn’t it?” Chloe says from over her shoulder while she walks toward the kitchen and toward me—finally.

“You’re going to run him off,” I whisper once she’s inside the kitchen.

“And that would be a bad thing because …?”

“Do you have another bookkeeper who does house calls and also helps me with my taxes hanging around in your back pocket?”

“I know my rear is plenty wide, but it’s not that abundant.”

I chuckle. “Well then, play nice.”

“I do play nice. He’s just so fun. Have you ever seen someone so serious?”

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