Page 63 of Must Have Been Love

I’ll be there at six. We’re going out. Bring a sweater. – Hudson

My lips curl as I read the message on my phone screen. Even though it’s just black letters on a white screen the grumpiness is so obvious – I can actually hear it in his voice.

And I know why he’s so grumpy. He’s spent the whole last week trying to persuade me to spend tonight in bed with him. My bed, his bed, he doesn’t care. He even offered the honeymoon suite at the Grand Liberty Hotel, as if that wouldn’t sent the tongues rolling all over town.

Despite his bitching – and then his soft cajoling which is much harder to withstand – I’ve held firm all week when we’ve talked. It’s weird how I’ve gotten used to him calling. And how much I’ve missed being in the same room with him.

Which is a good reminder that I can never get into a bed with him. If I can just avoid snuggling, I can avoid getting my heart broken.

“It’s looking good, huh?” Sam, the head contractor brings me out of my thoughts. I slide my phone into my jeans pocket and follow his gaze.

They’ve been working on the outside today, because they’re waiting on the new flooring to arrive. The deck has been stripped and the first layer of stain put on the wood, and the roofers are putting new shingles on the porch overhang. Autumn called me today and told me that the new tables and chairs will be arriving early next week, and that she wants to discuss the reopening plans.

I let out a long breath. “It looks amazing,” I tell him. “I can’t believe how quickly you’re getting things done.”

Sam shrugs. “We were given a timeline. Autumn can be fierce if anybody disagrees with her.”

Just like her brother. I can’t imagine how much this whole renovation is costing him. And I feel stupidly guilty about it. I’ve tried to bring it up with him multiple times over the past week – wanting to agree to a repayment schedule – and each time he’s batted me away.

Sam and the other contractors pack up for the evening, loading their tools into their trucks as they head down the hill toward the dock where the ferry is waiting for them. In the distance I can see Jesse opening up the ramp to allow cars on. He lifts a hand up at me and I wave back.

He’s taken to dropping in to see the progress of the renovations on his way home from work. When he saw the new stage in the design – much bigger than the old one, able to hold a band rather than just two people at a push – he smiled.

I’m going to ask him if he can perform on opening night. Just as soon as I run it past Autumn, because I feel like this is her baby too.

“Well this is looking different,” Eileen says – or at least I think it’s Eileen – as she walks up behind me.

“Hi.” I don’t say her name just in case. I smile though. “It’s a transformation, isn’t it?”

Even half-finished the difference between the peeling paint of the old Salty Dog and the freshly repaired deck with dark stains and white painted pillars is stark. Autumn showed me the furniture she liked before she ordered it, wanting my opinion. I’d oohed and aahed over the rustic white painted chairs and stools, plus the sofas that Autumn tells me will be perfect for day tourists who want to spend the afternoon drinking cocktails while overlooking the ocean.

“It’s very pretty. I was wondering, do you have an opening date yet?” Eileen or Mylene asks. “With the summer season coming up I’ve had a lot of inquiries about rooms and some of them are asking if there’s a local bar.”

Ah, it’s definitely Eileen. Crisis averted. “Autumn is coming to talk with me about it tomorrow. She wants to have a grand opening as soon as the renovations are done, but I’m not so sure. I don’t have any employees.”

“Oh, you can get the old staff back in. And I’m sure Jesse will help you if you ask him. I’ve been seeing him popping in here most nights.” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I say quickly. Because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.

She smiles. “Of course there isn’t. There couldn’t…” She shakes her head. “Can I ask for a favor?” she says, beaming at me in a way she never has before.

“Sure,” I say, because if I’m going to be running this place I need to make friends with the other business owners. “What is it?”

“Invitemeto the opening party. Nother.” She wrinkles her nose, looking up the hill atBrewed Awakenings. “She always gets in first and it’s infuriating.”

“Mylene?” I ask.

She widens her eyes as though I’ve just said Beelzebub. “Her,” she says. “Yes.”

“I can’t ask you and not her,” I say, shifting my feet.

“Why not?” Eileen frowns.

“Because it would be rude.”

“It would be rude to ask her,” Eileen counters. “Because thenIwouldn’t be able to come.” She looks put out as she smooths down her dress pants. “You want me there, don’t you?”

“You were both at Ayda’s party. Why can’t you do the same here?”

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