Page 9 of Once Upon a Fall

“Oh, right,” I say. I forgot that I told them I would escort the two of them to the first high school game of the season.

High school games are big around Autumn Ridge. It’s a small town, and there’s not a ton to do, so almost everyone goes. I was planning on skipping since I need every minute I have to work on the other guest rooms. But I guess I’ll be taking a break on Friday night to walk two older women up the stands.

“Can you still go?” Edna asks.

“Of course,” I say, lightening my tone since it’s not the Ednas’ fault that I have a balloon payment deadline coming up very quickly and poor time-management skills.

“Excellent. Pick us up at six at my house.”

“Will do,” I say. “Um . . . which one is your house?”

“Very funny, missy,” she says, and hangs up.

I wasn’t joking. I have no idea which Edna I was talking to, and now I’m going to have to figure out that mystery before Friday night. At least I have a fifty percent chance of getting it right.

Something hits the floor above me with a thud, and I jump at the noise, wondering what it could be. Then I hear the muted sounds of my only guest yelling something, and I race up the stairs, wondering if I should go check on him. But I stop halfway up. He could have just dropped something, and me knocking on his door might come off as a little creepy. I’m not sure what the protocol is for this. It never happened when I was working for the Jacobsens.

Still, what if he’s hurt? What if he slipped on the bathroom floor I tiled myself and is lying there unconscious? What if he can’t reach his phone? What if I ignore it, and then he presses charges, and I’ll lose this place before I’ve even gotten started? I’d be destitute with no place to live, and I’d have to move back in with my dad when I just moved out five months ago. Or maybe Emma would take me.

Or maybe I should just stop spiraling and go check on the guy. But just as I’m about to go up the rest of the stairs, the front door opens and in walks Dom carrying his tool box.

I guess I’ll be getting sued then, because I’m definitely not checking on my guest now.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” I say, even though we never had a set time for him to be here, and he’s doing this for free.

He looks to the ceiling as if I’ve maxed out his patience for the day in the first ten seconds of being here. “I told you I’d come in the morning,” he says.

I walk back down the stairs and toward him. “I know,” I say, giving him a teasing grin. “I’m just ready to get started.”

“Is that BMW your guest’s?” Dom asks, pointing toward the door.

I shrug. “Maybe?”

I’m guessing it is. I clocked it when I left this morning to go get pastries from Keller’s Bakehouse since I felt bad about the whole no-breakfast thing. It was a mistake on my part. The website has now been updated. I was up until two in the morning fixing it.

There are only three parking spaces for the inn, so his car was impossible to miss.

The expensive-looking black car has to be his. It’s fitting. Shiny, sleek, and grumpy. I’m not sure you can describe a car as grumpy, but it gave off that vibe.

“How is he?” Dom asks.

I wave his words away. “Oh, he’s . . . boring. Kind of blah. Totally nondescript. Just your average Joe.”

Dom’s glare means he’s not buying any of this.

“Should we get to work?” I smile. It’s one of those nothing-to-see-here kinds.

I need to get my brother into another guest room and working so he never has a chance to run into Dean.

But that hope dies immediately, because, as if I’ve summoned him with my worries, I hear footsteps on the stairs and turn around to see my guest coming down them.

And he’s dripping wet.

Half-naked.

A frilly pink shower curtain wrapped around his lower half.

Oh no.