Page 8 of Frosted and Sliced

Georgette scowled, an action that felt unnatural on her usually smiling face, as she mentally scanned the inn’s calendar. She wanted to tell him she was filled up, wanted it desperately. Unfortunately it was a lie. The season was slow, and she needed the money. “For how long?”

He shrugged. “Indefinitely, I guess.”

“What?” Had she heard that wrong?

“I moved here.”

“You mean you moved to this town,” she clarified.

“No, I mean I moved here, to your inn.”

“You can’t move to my inn,” she blustered.

“Why not? I already familiarized myself with the escape routes.”

“That’s not…that’s the worst possible reason to move somewhere,” she said.

“No, the worst possible reason is because the people you’re hiding from found you and you have to relocate.”

She blinked, not certain if he was trying to make a joke. Somehow she thought he was not. “Regardless, you can’t move in here.”

“Why not?”

She tried to toss up her hands in exasperation, but he was still too close. “Because I’m running a business.”

“One where you rent rooms to people. I’m people.”

“You can’t rent a room from me every night,” she said.

“Why not?” he returned in the same bored tone.

“You can’t afford it, for one. I charge more than ahundreddollarsa night.” She announced this as if it were a shameful secret, and also the deciding factor.

“That’s three thousand a month, not so far off what I was paying in DC.”

“But…but obviously you won’t be making as much, living here. Our economy is very depressed.”

“You’re not doing your part to sell your town here,” he told her. “Or your inn.”

“I’m being practical. You cannot move to a place on a whim and declare that you’re moving in with a stranger, unannounced and uninvited.”

“It’s not a whim, I’ve always wanted to live in Maine. It’s been on my short list for years. Visiting a couple of weeks ago gave me the chance to confirm that I like it, it’s suits me. As for the inn…” he gestured to the grand, empty hallway. “It seems like you have some rooms available.”

Her scowl returned because it seemed like he was making fun of her. “Right now I do, but I don’t always. Most rooms will be booked, over the next few months. You’ll have to do a full rotation, if you stay, picking up your stuff and rearranging. You can’t always have the good escape room. You’ll hate that.”

“I will hate that,” he agreed.

Her momentary triumph was short-lived when he continued.

“But I wasn’t planning to take one of the guest rooms.”

Her eyes widened. “Surely you’re not suggesting that you want my room.”

“No, that would be crazy.”

She quirked an eyebrow, as if to say that if the shoe fit, he should wear it.

“I’m going to live in the attic,” he finished, so nonchalant that she almost missed it.

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