After paying for my order, I left my change as a tip in the jar. Once my coffee was ready, Ms. Kenzie handed me a bag with the two muffins. I thanked her and moved toward the woman who gave me the recommendation.
“I’m Grace by the way,” I offered as I handed over the treat. Her eyes widened slightly, almost disbelieving, as she cradled the blueberry muffin before breaking off a piece.
“Lucy.” I watched her carefully take a bite, and she murmured, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled then mustered up the courage to ask for directions. “Do you know where The Grand Bed and Breakfast is?”
“To get to The Grand you’re going to head straight on Main Street then turn left once you hit Maple, walk four blocks, and turn right. If you pass the big oak tree, you’ve gone too far,” Lucy explained a bit too fast.
I nodded and said, “I’ll see you around.”
She nodded in return, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe.”
I said thank you and made my way out of the coffee shop. I continued walking down Main Street until I saw the sign for Maple Ave. I cursed under my breath, forgetting if Lucy said left or right. I shuffled on my feet as I debated which way I should go. My heel got stuck in a cobblestone crack and I would’ve hit the ground if it weren’t for a stranger helping me straighten before they continued walking down the street.
“Are you lost?” a voice from behind me called.
I spun to see a well-dressed man inside a convertible with the top down. I reluctantly approached his vehicle and nodded. “Can you point me in the direction of The Grand Bed and Breakfast?” My feet ached from my stupid heels digging into my skin.
“I can do you one better. I’ll give you a ride up the hill. I live past Oak anyway,” the man offered. He reached over to thepassenger seat and moved his briefcase to the back seat. He got out of the car, grabbed my duffel bag from my hands, and proceeded to put it in his trunk.
My breath hitched, unsure if I felt comfortable getting in a car with a random guy. Not that it was any different than taking a taxi. Speaking of, I wondered if this town had a taxi service. It might prove useful with my shoe situation. After what happened to my sister, cars in general made me nervous, but there was something about this guy’s boyish face that made me feel like I could trust him. It also could have been the blisters digging into my skin. Either way, it didn’t take much convincing to get into the car.
“I swear I’m not an axe murderer. I’m actually the mayor. Mayor Keith Williamson. But you can just call me Keith.” He winked and flashed me a cheeky smile. Keith looked like a big teddy bear dressed in a suit, but he had broad shoulders and was built like a linebacker. He had curly brown locks and brown eyes to match.
“Grace,” I greeted, making my way to the passenger seat. I got into the car, deciding to trust him. My feet were at the forefront of my mind. Keith made idle small talk about how he was the youngest mayor the town had ever had and he was passionate about making this sweet town even better.
“Believing in something is all we have in this world. If you don’t believe you can do something, who will?” Keith asked. I was processing his words when he turned the steering wheel a little too quickly, subsequently making me jump, and I had to do my breathing exercises to try to ward off a panic attack.
He glanced at me with concern. I smiled sheepishly and waved him off. “Excited for my weekend retreat,” I remarked, and he nodded, continuing to speak about his hometown.
After the car came to a stop, I went around to the trunk, grabbed my bag, and flung it over my shoulder. “Thanks,” Icalled out and waved as Keith pulled away. I was in shock at how eager and friendly everyone in the town was, apart from Ms. Kenzie, and I hadn’t been here for an hour yet.
The Grand was an old craftsman-style house, covered in wisteria vines that wrapped around the porch. It was a faded white color, and some of the paint was chipping, but it only added to the charm. Near the entrance, there was a trellis with roses threaded through every inch of it.
I made my way inside, and the decor screamed cottagecore. But it was effortless—from the floral-patterned furniture to little trinkets on every surface. The front desk matched the outside but was a brighter, more updated white color. Probably because it wasn’t exposed to the outdoor elements.
“Checking in?” an older woman with Coke bottle glasses asked, looking at her day planner cheerfully.
“Yes, I have a reservation under Grace Harrington,” I said softly, realizing there were other guests reading in the library area adjacent to the check-in desk.
She nodded and eyed me carefully, no doubt judging my outfit. “Here’s your key. Room nine, upstairs to the left. I’m Fiona and I’m not a toucher.” Her chin gestured toward my hand, which lingered midair, waiting for her to shake it.
I smiled, liking this older, brazen woman already.
“I would normally show you to your room, but I’m expecting a shipment for dinner tonight,” Fiona said regretfully. “Dinner is at six sharp. If you miss it, there are only snacks. Breakfast is at seven thirty. If you need anything, let me know. I live in the cottage behind the property. Try not to need anything.”
“Thank you so much,” I called and made my way up the stairs.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “Fancy Pants.”
This small town was turning out to be a character all on its own. Not to mention the cast of characters I’d met along the way so far.
I threw my small duffel bag onto the bed, soaking in my home for the next two days. The bed was covered in a paisley quilt and there was a plush chaise lounge. Plopping down beside my bag, I leaned down to undo my heels before they were my undoing. Needing a moment to refresh myself, I went into the bathroom. When I saw it had a gorgeous clawfoot tub, I decided to draw myself a bath. I poured the complimentary bubbles from a glass bottle beside the tub into the water. Once the warm water had filled sufficiently, I sank down and closed my eyes slowly, trying to do a quick meditation to clear some of the noise in my head.
I woke with a start, realizing that I must have fallen asleep in the tub. My skin was all pruney and slick from the bubbles. I rinsed off and checked the time on my phone.Fuck, seven thirty.
I missed dinner, and right on cue, my stomach grumbled. That wasn’t all I missed by the looks of the bubbles on my phone.
