Nicole had to laugh.
“Anyway, Dad and I agreed to be more honest with each other,” she said as Nicole parked behind the gallery. “It was actually pretty cool.”
“That’s great news.” Nicole smiled at her. “I’m really happy for you. Both of you.”
The gallery was surprisingly busy for the entire morning. So much so that Nicole was glad she had scheduled all four of them today. For the most part, she was staying behind the scenes, working in the office and cutting mats for some watercolor paintings an artist had brought in yesterday.
“I’m taking my lunch break,” Amyra informed Nicole shortly after Marcie arrived at noon. Her mouth twisted to one side, as if she was rethinking her announcement. “That is, unless you planned to go first.”
Nicole smiled. “Thanks for asking. But Harriet is coming in to meet with me at twelve thirty.”
“Harriet did okay on First Friday. I was surprised.” Amyra toyed with a pencil can on the worktable. “That was a good call on your part.”
Nicole felt like pinching herself—a compliment from Amyra? “Well, uh, thanks.”
“And Marcie seems to be working out okay too.”
Nicole didn’t bother to hide her surprise this time. “That’s nice of you to say.” She moved around the table, standing across from Amyra. “I’ve been meaning to ask you . . . how’s your mom doing?”
Amyra’s lips curled into what was nearly a smile. “She got her lab reports back on Monday. The tumor was benign.”
“Oh, Amyra.” Nicole almost hugged her but stopped herself. She felt pretty sure Amyra probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Not yet anyway. “That is really great news.”
Amyra nodded. “Yeah. It’s a relief.”
Nicole told her to have a good lunch, and after Amyra left, she had to control herself from doing a happy dance. Some people would think it was ridiculous to be this thrilled over an employee simply acting “normal,” but for Nicole, it felt like a major victory. It gave her hope.
The day continued at such a busy pace that Nicole skipped her own lunch break. When Bernie showed up at her office, demanding that she take a break, Nicole couldn’t argue with her.
“Marcie and Amyra are here until closing, so I’m going to dinner with you,” Bernie informed her. “Let’s go.”
Nicole chuckled as she got her purse. It was interesting being bossed around by a thirteen-year-old. “Where are we going?” she asked as they went out the front door.
“You’ll see.” Bernie looped her arm in Nicole’s as they walked, leading her, it seemed, toward the river docks. “Nice night, huh?”
“Yeah, it is nice.” Nicole suspected Bernie was leading them to one of the little fish houses by the river. As they got closer to the water, Nicole pointed to a paddle-wheel boat where passengers were going aboard, probably for a dinner cruise. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Uh-huh.”
To Nicole’s surprise, Bernie walked over and got in line.
“We can’t just go on board,” Nicole told her. “We don’t have reservations.”
“Don’t worry.” Bernie grinned mischievously.
Nicole noticed the couple ahead of them. The man was holding tickets, getting ready to hand them over. “We don’t have tickets,” she whispered to Bernie, tugging her arm. “Let’s go.”
Bernie reached into her pocket, removed one ticket, and handed it to Nicole. “Here you go. Have fun.”
Nicole stared at the ticket, which looked legit. “What about you?”
“Go on.” Bernie shoved Nicole toward the man waiting to collect her ticket.
“By myself?” Nicole frowned. “What about the gallery?”
“Amyra is closing tonight,” Bernie called out. “And Dad’s picking me up. Go!” She nodded toward the boat. “Have fun!”
“Are you coming, miss?” the ticket man asked. “We need to leave port in a few minutes.”
She looked down at her ticket, then up at the beautiful paddle-wheel boat. “Okay.” She handed him the ticket. “Here goes.” She felt ridiculous as she tramped up the gangway. But as she went aboard, she reminded herself that she’d gone to the theater all alone last night. Maybe this was a new trend in her life.
“Welcome aboard.” She blinked in surprise as Ryan linked his arm in hers. “Right this way.”
“Is this for real?” she said in a high-pitched voice.
“Absolutely.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He led her along the deck, making their way through clusters of people until they reached a secluded table. Nicely set for dinner, including a chilled bottle of champagne, it was nestled close to the railing with a wide-open view of the river.
“May I?” Ryan pulled the chair out for her.
Nicole was speechless as she sat down, waiting for him to sit across from her. She felt like this was a dream. Maybe it was. But the boat’s “all aboard” whistle sounded real, and the paddle wheel was starting to move.
“I figured we’d have less chance of being interrupted here,” Ryan said as the boat pulled away from the dock. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You planned this whole thing?” she asked. “You set Bernie up and everything?”
“Guilty as charged.” He nodded.
“But why?”
“Because I needed to talk to you. I tried to find you the other night at Alex’s party, but you seemed to have disappeared. I knocked on your door and even went into your room. But you were gone.”
“Oh.” She quickly explained about her long evening with Bernie and Gina.
“Oh, wow, I had no idea. They were lucky to have you there to help them.” Then he told her he’d taken Cassidy aside after talking with Nicole in the gazebo, and they’d had a long conversation. “I made sure she understood that the ‘pact’ we made as sixteen-year-olds was never for real. Not for me anyway. And it never will be. I value her as a very good friend, but that’s all it’s ever been. I know our families tried to make it seem like more, and it seemed like I was constantly telling them it wasn’t. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised they weren’t really listening.” He adjusted his glasses. “They have a long history of not taking me too seriously.”
She smiled. That was probably true.
“I had planned to talk to you yesterday. I actually tried your phone a few times but didn’t want to leave a message. That didn’t feel right. And then the day got away from me. That woman from Alex’s party spent hours at the McDaniel Mansion. I think she’s going to make an offer.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!”
“But I still wanted to talk to you. I even went by the house last night, but Bernie said you hadn’t gotten home yet. No one seemed to know where you were.”
She told him about going to the movie on her own.
“Trying to avoid me?”
“Not exactly. I just needed some alone time.”
“Then I stopped by the gallery this morning. You were in the back room with someone, so I had a little chat with Bernie, my partner in crime, and she helped me to plan this evening. Believe it or not, my big brother got me the tickets for this dinner cruise.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “I think he felt a little guilty . . . about several things.”
She gazed out over the river, which was starting to reflect the colors of the sunset, and sighed happily. Even if this was a dream, which seemed highly likely, she wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.
“Do you mind being abducted like this?” Ryan asked.
She smiled at him. “Not at all. I was just trying to determine if this was real or not.”
He returned her smile and then, leaning across the table, reached for her chin and cupped it in his hand. He pulled her closer and landed what felt like a very real kiss on her lips. By the time they parted she felt slightly breathless . . . but she knew this was for real. Totally for real.
“I’ve been in love
with you for a long time, Nicole,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve made some blunders in my pursuit of you, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a second chance.”
Her heart was pounding in joy as she nodded. “Of course! Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Then I propose we start this whole thing completely over.” He stood up, removing the champagne bottle from the ice. With a little pressure, he popped the cork with such a loud bang that Nicole jumped to her feet, giggling as the freed cork sailed out over the sparkling water.
“Starting over works for me.” She moved to stand next to him at the railing, waiting as he filled a glass and handed one to her, then filled another for himself.
“This time, let’s do it right.” He slid one arm around her waist and held her close, clinking his glass against hers. “Here’s to us, Nicole.”
“To us,” she echoed. Ecstatic, she snuggled closer to him.
He leaned in for another kiss, then stepped back to gaze into her eyes. “My only concern is this—how do you feel about Savannah? Would you be happy spending the rest of your life in a funny old town like this?” He waved his hand out over the river.
She turned to gaze at the other paddle-wheel boats with their lights glowing warmly, at the lights coming from the town, and then at the colorful sky. It was all so beautiful. What artist wouldn’t want to live in a place like this?
“I love Savannah,” she confessed. “Almost as much as I love you, Ryan.”
He grinned, sealing her declaration with yet another kiss.
1
It had never been Anna Gordon’s dream to work for a motel—certainly not the Value Lodge. And most definitely not in the same sleepy town she’d grown up in. But as her grandma had reminded her just that morning, “A job is a job, and I’m sure there are plenty of unemployed folks who would be grateful to trade places.” Even so, as Anna walked the six blocks from her grandmother’s apartment to her place of employment, she longed for something more.
As Anna came to Lou’s Café, someone backed out the front door with a watering can in hand, nearly knocking Anna down. “Excuse me!” the careless woman cried as she slopped cold water onto Anna’s good Nine West pumps.
As Anna caught her balance, she recognized the offender. “Marley Ferris!” she cried out. “What on earth are you doing here in Springville?”
Marley blinked in surprise. “Anna?”
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Anna stared at her old friend in wonder.
Marley set aside the watering can and the two hugged—long and hard—exclaiming joyfully over this unexpected meeting.
“It’s been so long,” Marley said as they stepped apart.
“Way too long.” Anna slowly shook her head.
“And look at you.” Marley studied Anna closely, from her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair to her shoes. “So professional in your stylish suit. And still looking way too much like Nicole Kidman’s little sister.”
Anna smiled. “Thanks.”
“What’re you doing in these parts anyway?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Anna adjusted her purse strap.
“I’m just home for a few days.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Helping out with my parents’ café. My mom’s laid up after back surgery.”
“Oh dear. Is she okay?”
“Yeah. It was a ruptured disc, but sounds like they got it cleaned up. She just needs to take it easy for a few days.” Marley pointed at Anna. “Seriously, what’re you doing back in Springville, and looking all uptown too?”
Anna grimaced, wishing for a better answer. “I’m, uh, I’m managing the, uh, the motel,” she mumbled.
“Oh?” Marley’s brow creased. “A motel? In this town?”
Anna tipped her head down the street with a somber expression.
“The Value Lodge?”
“Uh-huh.” Anna glanced at her watch. “And I should probably get going.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” Marley looked doubtful, as if she was still processing this bit of news.
“It’s great seeing you,” Anna said. “You look fantastic.”
“Hey, why don’t you come back over here for lunch?” Marley said quickly. “Give us time to catch up. The Value Lodge does give you a lunch break, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” Anna nodded eagerly. “At 1:00.”
“I’ll be right here.” Marley picked up the can and began to water the large terra-cotta pot by the front door, which was overflowing with colorful pansies and red geraniums. “I promised Mom I’d keep her plants alive until she gets back. Can you believe how hot it’s been? And it’s only May!” She plucked off a dried bloom, tossing it into the gutter.
“I adore your mom’s flowers. So pretty and cheerful.” Anna waved as she continued on her way. And it was true—she did love seeing the café’s flowers. It was a bright spot in her day. The blooms reminded her of the small hotel she’d worked at during her college years. Some students in the hospitality management program had disparaged the old Pomonte Hotel by calling it the Podunk Hotel. But compared to the Value Lodge, the thirty-six-room Pomonte was quite chic, from its cast iron flowerpots by the door to the bubbling fountain in the lobby. It was true what they said: you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
Anna felt a familiar wave of disappointment wash over her as her destination came into view. The boring two-story motel had been built in the early eighties, and most Springville residents agreed it was an eyesore. Some more motivated citizens had even gone to the city council demanding improvements. Anna couldn’t blame them. When she’d accepted the managerial job, she had convinced herself that she could make a difference in the humdrum lodgings—or she could move on after a year. Unfortunately, she’d been wrong on both counts.
As she got closer to the building, her general dismay was replaced by some ironic gratitude—she was thankful that none of her college chums could see her now. It was bad enough having to confess her lackluster vocation to a childhood friend this morning. But if her college acquaintances knew—like her ex-roommate who now worked in Paris, or her ex-boyfriend who managed a Caribbean Ritz—Anna would feel thoroughly humiliated.
She wasn’t a big fan of social networking, but she occasionally sneaked a peek at friends’ Facebook pages—not for long, lest she feed any jealous green demons festering inside of her. Naturally, she never posted a single word about her own personal or professional life. Occasionally she was tempted to fake some exotic photos and falsify her whereabouts, just for fun, but really that wasn’t her style. Better to remain honest and simply suffer in silence.
From across the street, she frowned at the garishly painted Value Lodge. Not for the first time, she wondered what idiot picked out those colors. The bright yellow and red stripes had always reminded her of a fast-food restaurant—they looked like mustard and ketchup, but much less appetizing. In Anna’s opinion, almost everything about this motel was unappealing, from the “free continental breakfast,” which consisted of small cardboard boxes of cereal and cartons of milk and juice, to the kidney-shaped swimming pool in its varying shades of blue and sometimes green, to the lumpy queen beds topped with bedspreads with a texture akin to fiberglass. For the life of her, she could not understand why anyone would stay here on purpose. Well, except that the Value Lodge boasted the “lowest rates in town.” She would give the motel that much—it was definitely cheap.
It was, in fact, the general frugality of this establishment that was the very bane of her existence. She’d suggested improvements to the owners, a semi-retired couple who were friends of her grandmother: relatively inexpensive perks like fresh floral arrangements in the lobby, upgraded linens, quality toiletries, or even a bowl of fresh fruit to accompany the continental breakfast. Every time, her ideas were politely but firmly declined. “Not in the budget,” Rich Morgan would tell her. “Not in the budget,” his wife Sharon would repeat like a trained parrot. And off they’d go on their merry little wa
y.
As Anna walked across the motel’s narrow parking lot, which had trash in it as usual, she made a mental note to herself to send Mickey out for litter patrol—again. Taking a deep breath, Anna forced a pleasant smile as an elderly couple exited the motel. They had checked in with her yesterday afternoon, for just one night, but they’d gotten her attention because they seemed like such sweet people. They were taking a cross-country car trip to mark their fiftieth anniversary.
“I hope you enjoyed your stay with us,” she said cheerfully as the gentleman politely held the outer door for her and his wife.
“Yes, uh, thank you.” He sounded hesitant as he followed his wife out. Almost as if something was wrong. Well, why should she be surprised? And why bother to inquire, except that was what a manager said to guests who were checking out. Still standing in the vestibule between the two sets of doors, Anna watched them hurry to their car. Wrinkling her nose, she peered curiously around the small space. Why did it always smell so doggone nasty in here? And even worse on warm days. It was as if someone had gotten sick and no one had bothered to properly clean it up.
She held her breath as she propped the exterior door open, wedging it in place with the rubber doorstop. Fresh air couldn’t hurt! Second note to self: Remind housekeeping to give this room a good disinfectant scrub during the night shift tonight. With temps heading for the high nineties this week, this entryway needed to smell fresh—or at least not quite so disgusting.
As she continued into the shabby lobby with its faux marble vinyl floor and eighties wallpaper, she vaguely wondered why guests never complained about that wretched smell as they entered. Maybe she should put in a suggestion box. But as she stooped down to smooth a wrinkle from a worn area rug with a curling corner that would soon be a tripping hazard, she realized if guests ever paused to complain, there would be no stopping them.
“Morning, Anna.” Jacob, the night manager, waved sleepily from the reception area.
“Good morning, Jacob.”
He gave a relieved smile. “You’re early as usual.” He’d already gathered his belongings, as if he planned to make a fast getaway. “Refreshing to see someone who takes her job seriously.”
Under a Summer Sky--A Savannah Romance Page 25