Page 2 of Suddenly Single
“It’sgorgeous,” she added, a little too enthusiastically. “But I had this change of plans at the last minute, and I got a ride from a friend—well, not a friend, exactly, but a friend of a friend...I think. Actually, I’m not sure who he was. Anyway, he was on his way home, and apparently he lives up in the hills somewhere, at a compound from the sound of it if I’m being honest, and he wasn’t going all the way to East Beach, but he mentioned an inn where I could definitely get a room, because he said no one ever stayed here, but that maybe I should call someone in East Beach first, because if he let me off here, no Uber was going to pick me up, and all the cabs are in Black Springs, and you’re, like,reallyoff the beaten path, you know?”
Jesus, this woman could natter on.He stared at her impatiently.Her cheeks pinkened and she said quickly, “Anyway.I really hope you have a room, because if you don’t, I’ll have to sleep on one of the benches outside.” She smiled in that way women had of smiling when they thought something was too preposterous to even contemplate.
It was not too preposterous to contemplate.
But Edan glanced down at the ledger and thought of the rooms.He’d been systematically going through them, stripping the beds, storing the linens, turning off the toilets.He was about halfway through the mansion, but there were some rooms around back he’d not yet cleared, leaving them open for the final bookings. “How long?”
“On the bench?”
He looked up. “Just the night, then?”
“That’s a start,” she said, and laughed nervously as she pointed a red-tipped finger at him and said, “That,sir, is an interesting question. You know what’s funny?”
“No’ as yet.”
“What’s funny is, I might need more than one night.I mean, if you don’t mind.Well, you probably do, but the thing is, I don’t exactly know how long.”
How could she not know? He tilted his head to one side and studied her a little more closely. “Are you homeless?”
“Homeless!” She laughed, too loudly and too long, and then sobered a little. “Sort of,” she admitted.“I mean, nottechnically.But sort of.”
She didn’t really look homeless.She looked like the type of woman who appeared in advertisements for feminine hygiene products, all pretty and fresh.
“Wait—I amnothomeless, if that’s what you think. Ihavea home,” she said adamantly, pressing her hand to her chest in earnestness.“But it’s in California.I’ve been on a road trip with a guy I thought was...well, I thought he was something he is not, and he surprised me, but not in a good way, and now, I’m suddenly single!” she exclaimed, casting both arms wide, as if announcing she was actually a celebrity he ought to know.
Edan didn’t know what he was supposed to say to what sounded like a right bloody mess. “Why do you no’ go home, then?” he asked curiously.
“It’s complicated.”
She was a hippie, all right, and it didn’t sound like she was planning a short stay.He would give her one night.Two at most. One night to nurse her wounds, one to figure out how to get to East Beach, the trendy tourist village on the other side of the lake, or wherever she intended to go next. The Woodstock shrine, probably.All things considered, giving her a room was really very decent of him. After he booked her in, he’d give himself a healthy pat on the back.
She tugged nervously at a thick strand of wavy hair. “I mean, there is obviously more to the story, but I didn’t figure you’d want the play-by-play.”
She figured correctly.
She pressed her lips together.“But you’re really open, right?”
Lord.“No. Just as the rather large sign on the entrance indicates, aye?”
She tried to look surprised. “What sign?”
He pointed.
“I didn’t see a sign,” she said without looking in the direction he pointed.
He arched a brow.
“Okay, I saw the sign,” she admitted, deflating a little. “I was hoping I could talk my way in. I’m just really stuck, Mr... ?”
“Mackenzie.”
“I’m really stuck, Mr. Mackenzie. My mind is spinning and I really don’t know what to do with myself. This breakup was very inopportune, you know?”
He didn’t really, because he’d never heard anyone describe a breakup asinopportune.Was there such a thing as an opportunebreakup? But then again, maybe he did understand, because come to think of it, his breakup had been spectacularly inopportune. The wedding venue had been booked.Tickets had been purchased.Gowns had been bought.
She didn’t wait for him to muddle through to his answer. She suddenly melted onto his countertop, spreading her arms across the surface and resting one cheek against it. “This is adisaster,” she moaned.
“It’s quite—”
