Page 21 of Always Be an Us

"Really? You haven’t heard from me in weeks and that’s all you can say?"

Damn, I forgot how much she likes small talk. "How are you, Rachel?"

"Oh please. Don't pretend to care now, it only makes it more irritating." There's amusement in her voice but also a bite that tells me she's not entirely joking.

"I do care about you, Rachel. You know that."

"Yeah yeah. Just not enough."

Guilt crawls through me. I don't say anything and then she sighs. "Anyway. I'll let you get back to work."

"Ok, but if you need anything, you'll tell me right?"

"Sure. Bye."

"Congrats again on your fashion line."

The line beeps in my ears, dead before I even finish the sentence. I sigh.

My daughter's door opens, and a glance proves me wrong. She's not asleep, at least not anymore.

But she probably just woke up. Her curly hair sticks around all over her face, and she rubs her tired eyes, yawning. "Was that mom?"

"Yeah," I answer. "She wants you to go to Milan with her for fashion week." Or at least I think it's Milan. I never thought to ask.

Maybe that's why Rachel was irritated. You probably should have asked more questions and congratulated her more. Shown that you care.

"Fashion week?" Amelia wrinkles her nose in distaste.

I add, "Her fashion line is having a show. It will only be for a few days and I think she really wants your support."

"Ugh," she says. "I guess I can go since it's for mom."

I grin and ruffle her hair. "Good." Rachel will be happy about that at least.

After breakfast, I default on punishing Amelia by collecting a promise from her to be good for the rest of the day. She agrees and after Sandy arrives, I head to the hotel.

I had decided to set up shop in the little guest house of the hotel, which probably doubled as an office once upon a time. It seems to have survived largely unscathed by the fire. It also shockingly has electricity and a working bathroom.

Well, seeing as how the townspeople used to hold fairs at the hotel, it only follows that they would use this office as their place of operations. I didn't enjoy working out of the hotel coffeeshop, with all the gawking eyes and constant chatter, so I had the office cleaned and had some new furniture brought in.

Today I have several meetings to select a contractor for the renovations. I need a quote and a proper walk-through, detailing the damage and the changes that need to be made. Likely, it will be a full-on rebuild, but I'm not sure.

I could have a team sent in from New York but that would take too long and I'm trying to be out of here as soon as possible.

And then there's the fact that my team also has their hands full, handling much bigger projects back in New York, and there are emails related to that which I also need to deal with.

It takes me most of the day, and I have a throbbing headache by the end of it.

That evening, I go outside to clear my head, heading out to the lake. It's quiet, the only sound is a gentle breeze that rustles the trees. The lake itself is a still blue, the surface only infrequently interrupted by ripples. Another stronger wind has goosebumps breaking out over my skin, and the scent of pines tries to tease a sneeze out of my nostrils.

Why am I here?

I've asked myself that question every day since I came into town. Just a few days ago, representatives of the town came to request that I allow them to continue holding events at the hotel.

I marvelled at the heated passion in their eyes as they spoke of the hotel like it was a living breathing entity they loved, like they were scared I would hurt it. One of them even tried to scare me off by warning me about ghosts. Apparently, the Grand Pearl Hotel is haunted by ghosts and I need to leave it alone.

Why on earth is everyone so obsessed with this damn place?

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