Page 6 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
"Thank you," I reply. "Your shop is absolutely enchanting."
"Oh, thank you very much, dear." Her violet eyes sparkle and I get the feeling that not much escapes her gaze. "We don't get many visitors this time of year. Are you visiting Saltford Bay for long?"
Do I have a flashing sign that says outsider above my head?
I blink again, surprised. Then I smile, realizing I’m just not used to small towns. In a town like Saltford Bay, everyone must know everyoneand I’m a new face in a familiar place. Back in Portland, no one bothers to know their neighbors.
“Actually, I just moved here,” I manage, keeping my smile on my face. “But you're right that I'm new to town. Is it that obvious?”
The pixie lady chuckles, the sound light and musical, like wind chimes in a breeze. I’m definitively calling Silvia later.
"Evelyn Primrose," she says, extending a tiny hand my way. "But please just call me Evelyn."
"It's lovely to meet you, Evelyn. I'm Cassidy Perkins," I say, shaking her surprisingly strong hand.
“I used to be an interior designer a long time ago.” I gesture to the shop and its content. “You have wonderful taste.”
Her smile widens, a touch of pride glinting in her violet eyes, and I swear she ruffles her wings like a bird preening at the compliment.
“Why, thank you. I’ve always said a home should feel like a sanctuary. A little whimsy hurt no one, either.”
“Whimsy is definitely underrated,” I agree, feeling more and more comfortable in her presence. The older lady has a calm, cheerful attitude that makes me think of my grandmother.
“And what brings you to Saltford Bay?” she asks, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "We don't get many new residents to town, although they are thoroughly welcome, of course."
I hesitate, but not for long. There's something about her that makes me want to share. Besides, I need to make new friends if I'm going to live here.
“I just bought the Saltwater Lodge. I moved in a few days ago.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly, and I can almost feel the excitement coming off her in waves as the tips of her wings twitch like a bunny's nose. It's adorable.
“The Saltwater Lodge? My, that’s quite the undertaking. It’s been sitting empty for years. Poor Mrs. Bennings couldn't keep up with the place once her husband passed. She was a lovely orc lady. That inn used to be the pride and joy of the town, you know?”
“I can see that being true,” I admit with a small laugh. “It needs a lot of work, but it’s got so much potential.”
“And here I thought we’d reached our quota of ambitious dreamers,” Evelyn teases gently. “But I admire your vision. Still, this will be a lot of work for you and your husband.”
Violet eyes drift to my left hand, still holding the latte. The left hand without a wedding band.
I blush, then shake my head. "No husband. It's just me, I'm afraid."
I need a subject change, pronto.
I glance back at the console table, running my fingers over the carvings again.
“That's a beautiful piece. It looks like an old masterpiece, but it's not an antique, is it?”
Evelyn Primrose's mouth perks into a tiny smile as her shrewd eyes assess me. I have no problem believing that underneath her rosy attitude, she is a fierce businesswoman.
“That would be Gerralt Banesman’s work,” she says, a touch of pride in her voice. “He’s the best craftsman I ever met. He's also a skilled carpenter. If you don't already have a contractor lined up, he would be my best recommendation for your Saltwater Lodge renovation.He's a bit of a character, but he's as honest as they come and his work has no equal.”
I could use an honest man.
“Do you think he'd be interested in taking on a project the size of the Saltwater Lodge?” I ask, trying to keep the hope out of my voice. "It's not going to be fast or easy."
“Oh, I'm sure he will,” she says, nodding her head firmly. “He built his house with his own two hands a few years ago, and it's the loveliest cottage in the county. He was just here the other day, complaining about the lack of work during the offseason. Though you may find him… challenging to work with, shall we say?”
And there comes the catch. There's always a catch.
