Page 35 of Undone

Chapter12

Ava

I’d never felt so defeated in my life.

Or embarrassed.

The siren on the fire truck got closer as my cheeks grew hotter—and not from fire. There was no fire, only smoke, plus an alarm system that was connected to the fire department.Of courseit was connected to the fire department.

God, please let the earth open up and suck me in right now.

The siren stopped, and I could hear the large truck rumbling down the lane toward me and Gretchen Morris and one of her housekeeping staff, as well as every last Honeysuckle Inn guest. Because naturally the alarms had sounded throughout the inn, and naturally it was necessary to evacuate everybody from the building. Not for the first time, I was relieved there weren’t more guests staying with us at the moment, even if it would help the cash flow issue a little.

Gretchen, who was in her mid-fifties and the head of Housekeeping, had come to work bright and early to prepare for most of the guests checking out today. She squeezed my upper arm supportively as the noisy truck pulled up. “Things like this happen all the time. It’s okay, hon.”

I knew she meant well, and I was thankful she was there and had filled me in on the fire department connection and the evacuation policy. But it didn’t feel like things were okay right now.

Four firefighters jumped out of the truck, and one of them asked if the owner was present. With my cheeks still burning, I went toward him.

“There’s no fire,” I blurted out. “I burned muffins.” I pointed to the muffin pan I’d tossed on the ground in front of the porch, thinking maybe that would get the stupid alarm to shut up.

Another one of the firefighters headed over to look at them, and the first one asked, “So there were no flames?”

I shook my head.

“Where did this happen?”

“In the inn’s kitchen.”

He called out to the other two to go in and check it out.

I explained, “Once you’re inside, you go past the desk and—”

“It’s okay. I’m familiar with the inn,” he said. “You’re Phyllis’s niece, right?”

I nodded, not for the first time today thinking I wasnotdoing Phyllis proud. At that thought, tears gushed into my eyes, and why not? I already felt like a total moron in front of the guests. I might as well cry my eyes out while I was at it.

But if nothing else, I was stubborn, so I squeezed my eyes shut, dragged a finger under each one, trying to dry them, then said, “I turned the oven off, so everything’s okay. Not even that smoky.”

“We still have to check it out,” the guy said. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“Thanks,” I said on an exhale, then glanced at the guests, who were hanging out in front of the east wing. I headed toward them, summoning an apologetic inn-owner smile. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” I said for probably the fifth time since we’d herded them outside. “They said it won’t take long.”

The Bianchi family, a young couple with twin three-year-olds, stood closer to the fire truck than all the others, one girl in her daddy’s arms, staring at the truck with wide eyes, and her sister holding her mom’s hand while hopping on one foot and talking nonstop about the rig.

“Have you ever seen a fire truck so close?” I asked the mellow girl, and she hid her face in Mr. Bianchi’s neck kind of like I wished I could do. Except without Mr. Bianchi, of course.

Mr. and Mrs. Ackhurst, a retired couple from Des Moines, were already dressed for the day, and he’d brought the mug of coffee he’d brewed earlier in their room. Someone had moved two chairs from the porch out to them so they could sit. Mrs. Ackhurst smiled at me. “Looks like you’re having that kind of day. At least we got some lookers as first responders.”

“That we did,” I said with a laugh. One of the firefighters who’d remained outside had taken off his helmet, showing that he was, indeed, a looker.

“You holding up okay?” Knox asked, walking up next to me. He’d been sitting on the curb, his laptop open, typing away as if there was no emergency going on around him. Which there wasn’t. Just the smoke and a big truck that made it look so much worse than it was.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Embarrassed. You’re working early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep, and my characters were talking. I’m on kind of a roll, so I’m going to go sit in my car and see if I can get to the end of my chapter.”

“Good luck.”

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