The Inn at Willa Bay: A Willa Bay Novel

by Nicole Ellis

  The Inn at Willa Bay

  A Willa Bay Novel

  Nicole Ellis

  Copyright © 2020.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  1

  Zoe

  “What do you think about having the actual wedding ceremony over there, under the pergola?” Zoe Tisdale pointed to the far end of the garden where a white wooden arch framed a million-dollar view of Willa Bay’s deep blue waters. “It’s our most popular choice for ceremonies, but I can show you a few other locations around the grounds if you’re interested in something different.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” the bride-to-be said breathily as she spun around in slow circles. “This is like being in a secret garden. Can I take a closer look at the arch?”

  Zoe smiled at her. New clients were always impressed when they saw the gardens at Willa Bay Lodge. “Of course. Let me know what you think. I want to make sure everything about this wedding is exactly what you were hoping for.”

  While the other woman crossed the expansive lawn to check out the pergola and its adjacent gardens, Zoe took the opportunity to relax a little and enjoy her surroundings. Typical for April in the Pacific Northwest, it had rained that morning, but the clouds had burned off by the afternoon, just in time for Zoe to show her client around. Japanese maples, azaleas, and boxwoods formed a border around the Pergola Garden, the largest outdoor space on the grounds. White wrought-iron benches, dispersed randomly in almost-hidden alcoves off the main lawn, peeked out like treasures waiting for guests to discover them.

  To keep the landscaping pristine, the grounds crew would be outside soon to towel off the benches and rake up any leaves that had fallen during the storm. The fragrance of roses hung in the air, mixing with the scent of recent rain and a hint of salt from the bay. If Zoe wasn’t on the clock, she would have loved nothing more than to grab a book from the Lodge’s library and sneak away to a dry seat overlooking the water.

  “I love it,” the woman said from behind her, breaking Zoe out of her reverie. “How many people did you say this area can accommodate?”

  “About two hundred seated.” Zoe gestured to the lawn in front of the pergola. “For weddings, we usually have two sections of rows with an aisle down the middle. If there’s a chance of rain, we have a canopy that’s large enough to shelter the whole garden.” She stared up at the gray clouds that threatened to obscure the sun, then gave the woman a wry grin. “The weather in August should be fine, but you never know in Washington. We like to be prepared for anything.”

  The woman nodded, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “It’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. I can’t wait until my fiancé sees this.” She was so giddy that she looked like she might start jumping with glee – something Zoe had actually seen brides do when they locked down their wedding venue.

  “I’m so glad you like it. Let’s go inside, and we can start working on a plan.” Zoe motioned to the woman to follow her back into the Lodge.

  In Zoe’s office, they discussed most of the major details of the event, including flowers, catering choices, the cake, and music. While the Lodge had its own dining room for guests, it offered clients the option to bring in outside caterers for larger events. Zoe made a note to follow up with her client in another month to check on her progress and see if she needed any other assistance. Although it technically wasn’t in her job description to help clients with all of their wedding details, Zoe had worked as an event coordinator at the Lodge for over nine years, and she’d found that going the extra mile to make sure things were on track early in the process was key to a successful event.

  After the woman left, Zoe went into her boss’s office. Joan was seated behind her desk, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she peered at her computer screen.

  She looked up when Zoe entered. “Hey. How did your client intake go this afternoon? Did it ever stop raining so you could show her the gardens?” Joan glanced at the windowless walls of her office with distaste. “I feel like I’m locked in a pit in here. It could be midnight for all I know.” Her eyes widened, and she removed her reading glasses. “It’s not, is it?”

  Zoe laughed. “It’s only four-thirty in the afternoon, but it sounds like you need to take a break. Or maybe head home for the day.” Joan put in just as many hours as Zoe did, if not more, so it didn’t surprise Zoe that Joan had lost track of time.

  Joan shook her head. “Too much to do before I knock off for the day. I could use a cup of coffee though.” She rolled her ergonomic chair backward and stood, resting her hands on the desk for balance. “I’m getting too old for this.”

  “Only three more weeks.” Zoe moved into the hallway to allow Joan room to exit the office, then walked with her to the kitchen. “Are you getting excited?”

  Joan shrugged. “Yes and no. I’ve been doing this for so long that it’s hard to imagine being retired. Not that we’ll be lazy in our retirement though. Fred has the next few years planned out for us: A trip to Italy, a cruise to Hawaii, and, of course, traveling to see all the kids and their families.” A wistful expression came over her face. “I am looking forward to seeing my grandbabies more often.”

  Zoe edged open the door to the kitchen, taking care to make sure there wasn’t anyone on the other side. They walked over to the counter where the chef, Taylor, always had a pot of coffee going for the staff. Joan filled two mugs, handing one to Zoe before leaning against the counter to drink her own.

  “How’s it going?” a dark-haired woman in her early thirties asked as she stepped out of the walk-in refrigerator with an armload of fresh vegetables.

  “Hey, Meg,” Zoe said. “Things are going pretty good. I think Joan and I finally got all of the details sorted out for the wedding this Saturday.”

  Meg Briggs scowled. “I heard things were going haywire with that wedding. I know Taylor is up in arms about all the menu changes. I could have sworn he was going to cancel the event after the seventh time the bride changed her mind about the entrée choices.” She set bags of potatoes and onions on the counter, then neatly stacked whole carrots in a pile, their feathery green fronds hanging over the edge like moss from a tree.

  “I think we got it all straightened out.” Joan set her cup on the counter and sighed. “I’m definitely not going to miss dealing with all of the crazy client requests.” She nodded to Zoe. “That’s going to be up to you and whoever George hires to take your place.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with most of the guests in person.” Meg turned to Zoe, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Has George said anything about you taking over?”

  Zoe shook her head. “No, but he’s not always the most organized person in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offers me the job the day aft
er Joan leaves.” She grimaced. “Or maybe he doesn’t think I’m the right person for the position.”

  She sipped the strong coffee to distract herself, but truth be told, she was getting a little worried. Joan had announced her retirement plans over a month ago, and although George had made comments indicating he’d be promoting Zoe, he hadn’t said it outright.

  “Are you kidding me?” Meg shot her an incredulous look. “Who else would he hire?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, honey. You’re a shoo-in to be my replacement – everyone knows it.” Joan picked up her coffee mug from the counter. “Speaking of work, though, I need to get back to my desk if I want any chance of being home for dinner with Fred tonight.”

  “I’m going to finish my coffee and head home,” Zoe said. “I came in at the crack of dawn this morning to work on a client proposal, and now I’m beat.”

  “See you in the morning.” Joan left the kitchen, sipping her coffee as she walked out the door.

  “Are you sure you want Joan’s job?” Meg eyed the closed door. “She must put in at least sixty hours a week.”

  Zoe smiled. “More like eighty hours during the summer. But yes, I’ve always dreamed of being the event manager at a place like this. Even when I was a little kid, I was staging weddings for my Barbie and Ken dolls. I just love seeing the joy on people’s faces at an event I helped organize.”

  She’d been working at the Lodge as an event coordinator since graduating from college and had always hoped to move up the ranks when Joan retired. Over the years, Willa Bay had become her home, and she wanted to stay there long-term, but unfortunately, even in the wedding capital of the Pacific Northwest, there wasn’t much room for advancement in the industry. If this didn’t work out, she wasn’t sure what her future held.

  “Well, stop worrying about it.” Meg gave her a quick hug. “I’ve got to get things prepped for the dinner rush before Taylor comes back. I’m off tomorrow and Thursday, but I’ll see you at the Wedding Crashers meeting, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” Zoe gulped the last of her lukewarm coffee and placed the cup in the commercial dishwasher. “Is your mom coming to the meeting on Friday?”

  A shadow crossed Meg’s face. “I think so. She has her one-year cancer checkup that day and a scan, so it depends on how she’s feeling.”

  Zoe nodded. When Debbie Briggs was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago, Meg had been working as a sous-chef in Portland, Oregon. Being hundreds of miles away while her mom underwent chemotherapy treatments had been stressful, and Meg had eventually moved back home to Willa Bay to be closer to her family. Debbie had been cancer-free for a year now, but Zoe knew it was something that was always on her friend’s mind.

  Zoe squeezed Meg’s arm reassuringly. “She’s going to be fine.”

  Meg pressed her lips together, then nodded. “I know. But I’ll feel better when the scan tells me that too.” She picked up a chef’s knife and expertly diced a carrot, sliding it to the corner of her cutting board before starting on the next one.

  Zoe took that as her cue to leave. She exited the kitchen, ducking into her office to grab her purse and lightweight rain jacket. When she came back out into the hallway, she stopped short. The Lodge’s owner, George, was standing in front of his office, chatting with an unfamiliar man wearing a preppy polo shirt and khaki pants. She started to greet George, but he averted his gaze and hurriedly ushered the man into his office.

  Her blood ran cold. What was going on? George was never overly friendly, but he was usually cordial and professional, so this was out of character for him. Who was his mystery guest? She knew she was probably being paranoid, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was interviewing someone for Joan’s job. Event manager was a key position at the Lodge and carried with it a great deal of responsibility. Did he not think she was up to it?

  Her grandfather often said worrying didn’t solve anything, and he was right. She forced herself to head outside to her car, taking deep breaths of the salt- and floral-scented air. By the time she’d pulled out of the staff parking lot and onto the main road leading into town, she was feeling better.

  The town of Willa Bay was located about an hour north of Seattle, hugging the coastline for a few miles before the road turned inland. Most of the commercial area centered on Main Street bordered by the Willomish River before it flowed into the bay. It had once been a planned resort community for Seattleites before air travel became a popular mode of transportation. Zoe passed by the entrance to Main Street and drove over the red bridge that linked the northern and southern sections of town. Although most of Willa Bay was within walking distance, the cottage she rented was on the far side of town from the Lodge, so she preferred to drive to work to save time.

  About a mile from the bridge, she turned down a gravel road to get to the old Inn at Willa Bay. A canopy of trees cast shadows across the driveway, making it difficult to maneuver around the deep potholes pocking the surface. As much as she loved her landlord, property maintenance wasn’t Celia’s strong suit.

  She parked in front of her cottage which was one of twenty guest houses on the property, most with stunning views of the water. When she’d moved in, she’d painted hers a light turquoise, giving it a cheery appearance that set it off from the rest. Once upon a time, the others had also sported charming pastel hues, but now their siding was faded and rotting in places. It saddened her to compare the cottages’ current appearance to how they must have looked when the resort was in its heyday.

  At least she’d been able to save one of them, and it had been a lifesaver for her. Real estate in Willa Bay wasn’t cheap, and she’d struggled to find an affordable place to live when she’d taken the job at the Lodge. Finding this place had been a stroke of luck, and she was thankful every day for her good fortune.

  She unlocked the door and tossed her purse and jacket on the sofa under the front window before going into the bedroom to change out of her work clothes. She dressed quickly in a comfortable pair of jeans she’d had since high school and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then went out the front door, shutting it tightly behind her without locking it. Around here, raccoons were a bigger problem than burglars so she rarely locked it unless she’d be gone all day.

  The driveway continued on past the other cottages, but she walked in the opposite direction, following a well-worn path that wound through a thicket of blackberry bushes. Soon, the dirt under her feet turned to sand. The tide was out, exposing barnacle-covered rocks and beds of kelp and seaweed that clung to thick mounds of pebbles. Unlike the sandy ocean beaches she’d grown up with, the terrain here was much rockier and sloped down sharply at one point, revealing a drop-off that would surprise anyone wading in the water after the tide came in.

  A dark cloud hung over Whidbey Island, depositing a sheet of silvery rain on the other side of the bay. She stopped in front of a beach log and sat down on the sand, hugging her knees up to her chest. It may have been sunny, but a stiff breeze blew off the water, making her wish she’d brought her jacket.

  She always came to the beach when she needed to think. Besides Willa Bay being the self-proclaimed “Wedding Capital of the Pacific Northwest,” its proximity to the water had been a big draw when she was deciding where to live after graduation. She’d grown up in Haven Shores, a small Washington town located on the Pacific Ocean, hours away from Willa Bay. Pops, her grandfather, still lived there, and her brother, Luke, had settled in the neighboring town of Candle Beach.

  She stared at the surf. The waves in Willa Bay were different from back home – smaller, but just as mesmerizing as the giant ocean waves she was used to. She blinked back tears. Work at the Lodge had been crazy-busy lately, and it had been too long since she’d last seen Pops and Luke. Thank goodness she’d be going home in a few weeks to celebrate Pops’s eighty-fifth birthday.

  That thought raised Zoe’s spirits, and she tore her gaze away from the water, her eyes landing on the aging gazebo near the main structure on the property. She love
d how the gazebo stood guard above the beach. Secretly, she’d dreamed of what it would be like to be married there, practically standing on the beach as she recited her vows. Not that such a thing was likely to come to pass.

  She’d had a handful of relationships over the years, but they hadn’t progressed much beyond a few dates. The men she’d gone out with hadn’t liked the hours she devoted to work, so she’d long ago decided that a serious relationship wasn’t in the cards for her. Once she took over Joan’s job, the hours would be even longer. Zoe was up for the challenge, but she wondered if she’d ever regret giving up so much for her career.

  She eyed the gazebo’s sagging roofline and sighed. It was more likely to fall into the bay than ever bear witness to her wedding.

  The ominous gray cloud she’d seen earlier had edged closer to the mainland, and a fat raindrop plopped down on her head as a warning, followed immediately by dozens more. She leapt to her feet and jogged back to the trail leading to her cottage as tiny wet bombs pelted her in quick succession. When she reached the shelter of the trees, she slowed to a walk to enjoy the stillness. The pine needles underfoot cushioned her feet with every step, and the air held the tang of rain, much like it had earlier in the Pergola Garden.

  Zoe’s thoughts cleared as she approached her cottage. Tomorrow, she’d ask George about the promotion. Once things were settled with that, she’d feel a lot better.

  2

  Cassie

  Cassie Thorsen reread the email from her son Jace’s third-grade teacher, then pushed back her chair and stood from the small desk she’d set up in one corner of her kitchen. She paced the short distance between the sliding glass door leading to the backyard and the entrance to the living room, pulling her long blonde hair back into a ponytail as she walked.