Page 9 of The Love Audit
Apparently, Derek Carter was such a big shot at MasonCorpthat he warranted a private chartered flight to Miller’s Cove. However, since we now worked for the same company and were going to the same place, I would be forced to share the flight with Derek.
I entered the plane and jumped when I was greeted by a large, furry brown dog with what looked like tiger stripes—and no sign of Derek. I put out my hand for the dog to sniff, a trick I’d learned when volunteering at an animal shelter in high school. He evidently decided I was safe because he licked my palm. I bent down to scratch behind his ears while wondering, or maybe hoping, I’d somehow gotten on the wrong plane. Those hopes were dashed when the bathroom door on the plane opened.
“I’d be careful, if I were you,” Derek quipped. “Tora can sense evil.”
“Well, Tora clearly knows I can be trusted.” I tipped my chin to the dog’s tail, which was wagging excitedly as I continued to scratch.
“Strange,” Derek mused. “He’s usually a good judge of character.” He lowered himself into a seat and buckled himself in before pulling out his phone.
“He must not be, if he hasn’t bitten your face off yet.” I smiled and rose to my feet before choosing a window seat a few rows away from him. Tora followed me, jumped into the chair next to mine, and lay across my lap, nudging my hand with the top of his head, urging me to continue his deep tissue massage.
I looked up to see Derek staring at his dog in seeming disbelief. I shot him a smug smirk and shrugged. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head in response.
Tora didn’t leave my side for the entire flight, which I wasgrateful for during the takeoff, the landing, and the surprising number of pockets of turbulence we hit during our three-hour flight. If Derek minded me monopolizing the company of his furry companion, he didn’t mention it—which was nice, but it still didn’t change our predicament.
Upon landing, we were greeted by a man holding a sign with both of our names on it. He led us to a van Derek and I would have to share to Miller’s Cove.
“So what brings you to Miller’s Cove?” the driver asked about fifteen minutes into the ride.
“A friend of mine gets these cookies that are only made here, and they were so delicious that I had to know more,” I answered.
“Yeah, I don’t doubt it. Miller’s Cove was founded in the twenties by John William Pike. He was a famous inventor—well, famous around these parts. That man could do things with machines nobody else could. It made him rich, too. But the things he did with wheat and flour… well, you can’t get the kind of baked goods you get in Miller’s Cove anywhere else in the world, and I’ve been around.”
“Hmm,” I mused and shot Derek a smug look and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.
“I was interested in the landscape. The weather is perfect. There’s a beautiful beach and it just seems like such a peaceful place. I thought it would be a great place for a vacation.”
“You’d be right about that. I don’t think there’s a better placeon this whole earth than Miller’s Cove. Everything you need is there. It’s even pretty when it rains, and the people will treat you like family.”
Derek turned to me and mimicked my smug expression. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
“But we’ve had our share of troubles,” he continued. Derek and I both shifted our focus to him. “Every once in a while, we get outsiders thinking they can come in and change things. We can spot them a mile away”—he laughed, and we joined in with uneasy chuckles—“but we welcome visitors like a nice married couple like you two.”
Our laughter stopped, and we were silent for the rest of the ride.
We finally reached The Derry House, the bed-and-breakfast where we’d be staying for the duration of our research trip from hell. I was looking forward to putting as many walls as I could between Derek and me, but fate had other plans.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a short, copper-brown-skinned woman with long, straight gray hair who seemed to be in her sixties, greeted us, looking stressed out. “I’m Cynthia Foreman, and I’m the owner.”
“That’s no problem, Cynthia,” I responded. “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”
“Oh, I’m okay,” she sighed, “and you’re so sweet for asking. We’re dealing with a beast of a plumbing issue.” Upon seeing theexpression on our faces, she added, “I know you originally reserved our two bedroom suite, but our one-bedroom deluxe suite wasn’t affected, so you two will be just fine. It’s plenty spacious.” She smiled at us, and I felt my face freeze in a frozen smile mimicking her expression.One bedroom?How was that going to work?
The phone on the wall behind her let out a shrill ring. “Please give me a moment; that’s gotta be Henry. He’s the plumber.” I nodded, and she turned to answer the phone.
My brain whirred as I turned to face Derek with wide eyes. His tense look made it apparent that he was having the same horrible thought that I was, but I didn’t want to be the one to say it. We needed two bedrooms, but how would we explain such an odd request to Cynthia in the middle of a plumbing crisis?
We were out of options. Thankfully, Derek said the quiet part out loud because I was still in denial.
“Okay, if we want to stay here long enough to get the information we need for our proposals, we’re gonna have to go along with this marriage thing.”
I nodded. “Our last name can’t be Carter.”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t gonna be Morgan,” he snapped.
“What I’m saying is,” I said in an exasperated sigh, “if we check in under either of our real names, they could Google us.”
He nodded in agreement, and I couldn’t believe that thought hadn’t occurred to him. This was the person I was competing with for my job? I wouldn’t be dusting off my CV any time soon.
