Page 125 of Square Deal

“Yeah—just a minor crisis at the inn,” I said through gritted teeth. Couldn’t they handle things for one damn day?

Isaac chuckled. “Go save the day, Wonder Woman.”

“Wanna tag along?” I asked hesitantly. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“With you? To, uh, to a wedding?” He grinned devilishly.

I felt the panties vanish from underneath my dress. Damn him.

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “The last wedding we went to ended with you bent over a desk in my hotel room.”

I smirked and grabbed my handbag. “If you behave yourself, I’ll take you to lunch. My treat.”

He laughed as we hurried down the stairs and out to my car. “I’ve always wanted a sugar mama.”

“Then it’s your lucky day, because I’m feeling boujee and Maddie sent me a sneak peek of the summer dessert menu at the restaurant.”

As I pulled out of the drive and headed toward the inn, I spotted two cars parked in Chase’s driveway. He and Layla were canoodling on his porch.

“What’s that about?” Isaac asked.

I hadn’t quite figured out if Chase was actually interested in thebeautiful Iranian nurse he had met at the bar, or if she was just a rebound while he nursed his wounds from fifteen years of crushing on Bridget.

“Who the hell knows?” I asked rhetorically.

I pulled into my designated parking space at the inn. Isaac followed me through the lobby.

Everyone in town knew we were together, and nobody said a damn thing about it. Well, apart from the poker club getting in their required jabs. That was to be expected. Part of me wondered what the court of public opinion would have to say about our relationship.

The other part of me wanted to find some remote corner of the world and go off the grid so I would never have to find out. I could learn to live off the land, right?

The lies you tell yourself, Hannah Jane.

“So, what is this crisis?” Isaac asked as we neared the courtyard.

I eyed the tables waiting to be covered with linens, floral arrangements, and place settings. “The bride and groom had a bunch of guests unable to attend at the last minute, and they’re worried that having empty tables will look bad. The planner coordinating the event today redid the floor plan so that dinner is in the courtyard. It’s smaller than the ballroom, so it will look full with the reduced guest count. She just wanted me to look over the changes and make sure that everything flows.”

Everything looked good. I had faith in my staff, but I still appreciated being needed.

I grabbed a cream-colored linen from a hanger, found the hem, and snapped it in the air to open it up before letting the fabric land perfectly in the center of the table. My heels clicked against the cobblestones as I walked over to the waiting crates of dish-ware. I loaded my arms up with plates, silverware, and glasses.

Carefully, I set a single place setting.

The charger went down first. The dinner plate was next,followed with the salad plate on top. I placed a salad fork and dinner fork to the left and a knife and spoon to the right. A water glass, then red and white wine glasses were set to the top right of the plate. Lastly, I placed a bread saucer above the fork, along with a butter knife. Above the plate went the dessert fork—prongs facing the right, of course.

Isaac stood to my left while I arranged the first place setting. I loved a good tablescape. When I was satisfied that everything was perfectly placed, I pulled a single cloth napkin out of one of the crates and folded it into a perfect French pleat.

There was something calming about the rhythms of setting a table. It was all muscle memory at this point. I had done this exact place setting thousands of times. My mind always cleared when I arranged the stemware—red wine glass at the top of the table, white wine closest to the silverware.

It was the same way Maddie cleared her head by making pastries—bless her. Or why Steve worked out so damn much. My methods of relaxation also just so happened to be the same things that kept my stress level at critical.

“Finished?” Isaac asked when I stepped back to take in the table. There were still a hundred more seats that needed to be set the same way, but the catering staff would take care of it. This was my seal of approval that the room was ready.

“Finished.” I smiled, taking his hand and leading him out of the inn.

The weather was a perfect sunny and seventy-five. These were the days I lived for. I could see the crystal blue water pulling in a fast current. The nautical flags dotting the boardwalk blew in the breeze.

The view from the rooftop tables at Revanche couldn’t be beaten. On a clear day, you could see all the way across the barrier islands to the ocean. The wild horses were grazing on the shoal closest to us. Boats dotted the sound as they trolled along slowly inthe no-wake zone. Warm salt air and seagull calls had every bit of stress melting away.

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