Page 87 of Never Fall Again

“Is there something else?”

“Gray wants you to focus on guests of The Haven. Anyone who flirted with you, made comments about you, or asked you out—or even someone you consider to be a friend and nothing more.”

Landry groaned.

“I know you don’t want to.” Cal ran a thumb over her cheek, and her train of thought derailed.

When had they gotten this close? When did it become okay for him to do this? When did she realize that not only did she not mind, but she craved this? Just the two of them. Talking. Touching. Together.

She couldn’t think about it right now. Shouldn’t think about it ever. She’d said she’d never fall again.

But she hadn’t expected falling to feel so right.

Twenty-Four

A quick tap on the door preceded Bronwyn’s appearance. “Hey. Oh. Sorry. I’ll come back.”

“Get in here.” Cal let go of Landry, but he didn’t get in a hurry about it. And she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move either.

Bronwyn cleared her throat. “Landry, did Cal talk to you about staying at Meredith’s?”

“He did.” Landry held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll go. I don’t like it, but I’m not going to throw a fit about it.”

“Oh. Well...” Bronwyn blinked twice. “Good. I’m...thrilled. Okay. So, that was my first order of business. Second order of business is that I’ve pulled together a portfolio of guests. It wasn’t hard since I did this after the fire. Last time we were more focused on people who might’ve had a grudge against The Haven or people with some random connection to Landry’s former family.”

Landry sank into the sofa, and at her wave, Cal joined her. “Sit down, Bronwyn. I don’t have the energy to do this right now. If I keep standing, I’ll tip over.”

“Sorry.” Bronwyn sat in the chair across from the sofa. “Anyway, we didn’t find anything concerning last time. This time, I’ve changed it up. Mo”—she stumbled a bit over his name—“emailed me with suggestions.”

“What kind of suggestions?” If Landry noticed Bronwyn’s slip, she didn’t let on.

“He suggested I focus on regulars who take your classes and have an excellent rapport with you. The types no one would ever expect.”

“Awesome.”

“I made the list.”

“And?”

“You aren’t going to like it.” Bronwyn pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “I have the full portfolio with photos and details in my office. This is just the list of names.”

Cal peered over Landry’s shoulder as she read. He recognized several names from pro sports and the music industry.

Landry slumped in her seat. “Bronwyn. Seriously?”

“They always take an art class. They tip well. They leave great reviews.”

Cal peered at the paper. “Who are we talking about?”

Landry pointed to a group of names in the middle. “These men are the least likely to ever destroy my studio. They come in every time they’re here.”

“And they’re here a lot.” Bronwyn put her feet up on the coffee table. “Our average guest is a first-timer. At any given moment, at least half the guests have never been here. Our stats tell us that anywhere from fifty to seventy-five percent of first-time guests will return within five years. Twenty-five percent of our guests fall into the frequent category, which for us means they’ve been here at least three times in a five-year period.”

Cal slid an arm around Landry’s shoulder—to focus better on the paper, of course. “How often do these guys visit?”

“Between the six of them? They’ve each been here at least twice a year for three years. The three-year number is significant because—”

“I’ve been here three years.” Landry tapped the paper. “Three of the six are married men.”

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