Page 24 of Dr. CEO (The Doctors)

The noise dies down and people tune in to what Vincent’s staying. “We’ve identified a builder who’s developing the land behind the car park in the village. We hope to be able to offer housing there.”

“Thank you, young man,” Granny says. “I look forward to hearing more about it.”

I frown. That’s it? She’s just going to let him off the hook like that?

“Any other questions?” Vincent asks.

“Will we be allowed to take pets into the new house?” Sacha asks.

Vincent grins. “We’re still working on some of the details.” He turns to speak to a shorter man I didn’t notice before, standing beside and slightly behind Vincent. “I have a note to make sure we make that clear in the briefings.” He mutters something else to his lackey.

Vincent turns back to his audience. “I’ll be moving my office into the house.”

He’s going to be working from the house? Will he be sleeping here too?

“I want you to know I have an open door, if you have any concerns. If I’m in a meeting, my assistant, Michael,” Vincent nods to the man next to him, “will help you and make sure I get any messages.”

Michael steps forward and gives a small wave. He seems nice, but he’s about to ruin my life, so I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“My plan is for my team to sit down with you at regular intervals to keep you abreast of developments. As we work out staffing requirements, we will post on a bulletin board in the café.” He turns to me. “If that’s okay with you, Kate?”

“You own the place,” I say, my tone clipped.

His friendly demeanor doesn’t change at my almost-rude answer. “We’ll put a board up there and if there’s anything you think you might be suited for, even if you don’t have the experience, let one of my team know. We’ll see what can be done.”

“So when is this all happening?” I ask. “When are the tea shop closing? The flower gardens?”

Vincent looks at me and for at least three seconds, the rest of the room falls away; it’s like we’re alone in his hotel room, just like we were a few weeks ago. “Not yet,” he says to me and then raises his voice so everyone can hear. “As far as I understand, there are coach bookings to see the gardens through the end of August, so we’ll honor those. We don’t have firm dates to start work because planning hasn’t been granted, but we anticipate construction starting in about a month. As I said, the majority of the landscaping will need to be maintained throughout the refurbishment and after the hotel opening.”

But the tea shop will close.

Granny and I will have to move.

My life will change forever.

ELEVEN

Vincent

Michael is chattering about how well the meeting went, but I can’t focus on anything but the look of devastation on Kate’s face. It was like I’d ruined her life.

It’s not a good feeling.

I really want to talk to her one-on-one, but I have no idea where she might be. In her cottage maybe. But it’s not like I can knock on her front door. I’m her boss now. It would be too much of an invasion of privacy. Perhaps I can catch her in the tea shop tomorrow.

I scroll through Instagram, and I notice Kate takes a similar shot at different times of the day. It’s at the bottom of the estate by the lake, overlooking the water to the wooded area.

“Is that okay, Vincent?” Michael asks.

“I’m going to get some air,” I say, ignoring his question because I didn’t hear what he was asking. I stalk out. I need air or to clear my head … or something. Even if Kate’s not there by the lake, maybe it will help me find a solution to her obvious disappointment. I know what it’s like to have to leave a home you feel a connection to. It’s been a while, but the memory never fades. I may have turned adversity into motivation, but the hurt is still there like a flickering ember, firing my drive and ambition.

“You have that meeting with the US office,” Michael calls after me.

“I’ll be late,” I say as I take the grand, oak-carved staircase down to what will be the lobby of the hotel.

The double doors at the entrance to the house are impressive. If it’s possible to restore them, we should. I pull out my phone and voice-note Michael so I don’t forget to mention it later.

In the doorway, I turn to look back at the lobby. I take in the chandelier and the staircase, the wooden paneling, the artwork I negotiated as part of the sale. If I could have a conversation with me as a ten-year-old, I’d tell myself not to worry and that it would all work out. I’d even tell the kid who applied to medical school, so he could be just like his cousins, that everything would be okay. That he wouldn’t be like them, but that was okay too.

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