Bed, Breakfast, and Beyond
Page 18
It was just too soon.
"When do you have to have it in?"
Ben could see that Corrie was stalling, grasping at straws. She didn't want him to leave, and that made him happier than he ever could have imagined. But he knew it would be best if he left. Now.
"I don't have much time. Just till the end of June." He took Corrie's hands in his and drew them up to his mouth. "With exams to grade and grades to get out next week, it doesn't leave me with much time."
Corrie smiled wanly, and Ben wondered if she would take back her hand. But she didn't. "Well, I guess you'd better go on, then."
Ben kissed the tips of her fingers though he really hungered for her lips, but he also knew what would happen if he gave in to his desires. "Yeah, I guess I should." But he didn't make any effort to follow through.
Kiss her and go on. There's no use in prolonging your heartache.
Ham was right, of course. Ben kissed Corrie tenderly then turned. But something made him stop. He looked over his shoulder at her, still standing by the painting. "I'll let you read the story before I send it out."
Then he turned and headed for home.
Chapter Thirteen
Corrie really hadn't had time to think about Ben's promise in the week between his last visit and the grand opening of Venable House Inn. She'd been busy with last minute preparations and the furor of her first full house, but now that she'd survived the first real customers, she had time to think about what Ben had said.
Not just his promise that he'd let her read his story, and by that, she supposed, he'd accept her suggestions if she found something she didn't like. But the other promise…
He'd said that he wanted to make a fresh start. To start from the beginning. Corrie liked that. They'd started at the malt shop then rushed headlong into the bedroom with no time in between to get to know each other. But that had been because Cory and Ham had had their way with them. She shook her head. She was really beginning to believe this stuff.
As she sorted through the holiday weekend's worth of laundry, she wondered. Considering how long it had been since he'd walked out the front door, she should have heard something from him by now. How long did it take to write one chapter? It wasn't as if he were writing the whole book. He'd said the rest was already written.
Corrie sighed as she carried the load to the washing machine. She waited for the spin cycle to finish then shoved the first load into the dryer and emptied her basket into the washer. After measuring in the necessary amounts of detergent and bleach, she switched on both machines.
"Well, alone at last."
Corrie turned to find Vanessa watching her, a tray of leftovers from the breakfast buffet in her hands. "Did the Feddersen's finally check out?"
"Yup. It's just you and me until the Milsaps and the Stones check in this afternoon." Vanessa put the tray down on the butcher block table and turned and poured herself a cup of coffee. "You want some?"
"Do you have to ask?" Corrie closed the door to the laundry nook and took a seat at the heavy wooden table.
Vanessa poured another cup of coffee, carried both cups over to the table, and sat across from Corrie. She shoved the darker brew toward her friend and kept the lightened one for herself. "Well, boss lady. How do you think our first weekend went?"
Corrie lowered her cup and grinned. "It went great, but do you suppose it'll get easier?" She looked at the stack of dishes and the almost empty tray of muffins. After a moment's hesitation, she selected a blueberry one. "It was hectic, but I think we'll get the hang of it soon." She peeled the wrapping off her muffin and took a bite.
"Too bad they can't all be as easy to work with as Dr. Chastain," Vanessa said. She selected a muffin for herself.
The mention of Ben's name startled Corrie so that she almost choked on her food. She gulped a swallow of coffee to wash the lump down. As far as she was concerned, Ben had been more worrisome than the entire full house they'd just finished with.
Of course, Vanessa didn't know about most of what had gone on.
She swiped at her mouth with a napkin and smiled at Vanessa. "Don't worry, girlfriend. You'll get the hang of it eventually." She just wished she could get a handle on the Ben Chastain thing.
Vanessa snorted. "Humph. I'm just grateful that we have a couple of slow days before next weekend gets busy again. We're booked solid for Friday and Saturday nights, except for the Honeymoon Suite on Friday."
Corrie wasn't sure she agreed with Vanessa's relief at the brief lull in activity; she was happier with the prospect of the almost-booked-solid weekend. Too much free time would allow her to think. And if she did, she knew she would think about Ben.
It had been ten days since he'd promised to let her see the finished chapter, and she hadn't heard a word from him.
Now, she was starting to worry.
****
Ben sat in his quiet office in the deserted English Department and tried to work on the umpteenth draft of the final chapter. No matter how many times he wrote it, the story came out dull and flat. The facts were all there, but that was all. Just facts. The story had no heart. No soul. And of course, there was no way he'd write a word about what had happened between Corrie and him as stand-ins for Cory and Ham.
He'd return his entire advance before he'd do that. Even if he had to take out a loan to do it.
But, he had to admit, it would make a compelling story. Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He laughed bitterly. Yeah, it was a great story. Or would be if it had happened to anybody but him.
And Corrie.
Somehow, to put what had occurred between them down on paper would make it… What? More real? What had happened had been real enough.
Too personal.
Ben shook his head and tossed his pencil down on the yellow pad. It couldn't have been more personal than it already had been. Except that it hadn't been Corrie and him in that bed, it had been Cory and Ham.
The only problem was that it had been Corrie and him. Should have been them. Could still be. If only this story were not standing between them.
And something else was bothering him too. Why were Ham and Cory still there? If making love was their unfinished business, then they should be done now. But the fact that Ham and Cory had been tiptoeing in and out of his and Corrie's gray matter a week after that proved they were still around.
Or were they?
Ben hadn't heard a word from Ham since he'd left Corrie's over a week ago. Had it really been that long? And where was Ham?
Ben rubbed his tired eyes and wondered if the two ghosts had finally gone on, or if Ham had just stayed at Venable House with Cory this time.
Ben drew in a deep breath and expelled it with a groan. "Where are you, old man?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but his frustration echoed clearly through the empty halls for someone to hear.
If anyone had been around.
Trying not to intrude.
Ben thought he heard Ham's voice. "Is that you?"
But no one answered.
Had he gotten so used to having Ham in his head that now he attributed every stray thought to him? He shook his head in disgust. And if he was going to just sit around and talk to himself, there was no use trying to pretend he was working.
He jammed the legal pad into a desk drawer, locked it, and shoved out of his swivel chair.
There was no use hanging around here. Exams were over, grades had been assigned, and the students had all gone home.
He had a whole week to do nothing except finish his manuscript before the summer term began. Why was he still hanging around here instead of going home?
Because when he was at home, he thought about Corrie even more than he did here in the sterile surroundings of his office.
Ben shut off the office light and slammed the door behind him. He had to get out and blow off some steam.
****
"Corrie, will you settle down. You've been jumpier than a cat in a flea circus." Vanessa rolled her chair back and s
wiveled around to look at Corrie, who had spent more time this morning drumming her fingers and shuffling through papers on her desk than actually doing any work.
Rolling her own chair across the plastic floor mat to the center of the small office, Corrie swiveled around to face Vanessa. "I don't know what's wrong with me, 'Nessa. I just can't seem to concentrate on anything."
"I can see that. And morning is usually your subdued time of day." She looked at Corrie shrewdly.
Corrie felt like shrinking away from her friend's forthright gaze, but she forced herself to look back. She had no response. Had no idea why she'd been acting this way. She sighed. Maybe she did.
"I have one question," Vanessa announced abruptly.
"Only one?" Corrie answered dryly. But Vanessa's statement did nothing to help with the zillion and one questions that Corrie had had bouncing around in her own head. Questions about Ben Chastain. She prepared herself for Vanessa's interrogation, for she'd known the woman long enough to know that she wouldn't stop her questioning with just one.
"When was the last time you got out of this house?"
That was not one of the questions Corrie had expected, but she was no better prepared to answer it than she was any of the other possibilities she had thought of on her own. She stopped to think. "I weeded the flower beds last… Thursday. I think."
"No, girlfriend. I mean off the property. Away from here. You know, time for yourself?"
Corrie considered that notion. She'd never been a gadabout town, but she had been stuck to this place as tight as if she'd been glued. "I think I went to church a week or so ago."
Vanessa lifted her gaze to the heavens. "Girl, you need to get out and have some fun." She got out of her chair and stood in front of Corrie. She held out one dark hand. "Here. Get up."
"What?"
"I'm giving you a day off." Vanessa reached down and yanked Corrie out of the chair.
"But I have work to do." She looked at Vanessa. "And, besides, I'm not sure you have the authority to give me the day off."
"Yes, I do. I'm invoking my privilege as junior partner. You haven't managed to do a lick of work all morning, and you're keeping me from mine." Vanessa placed her hands on Corrie's shoulders and turned her around toward the door. "Go. Get out of here. Relax and have some fun."
"But…"
Vanessa gave her a little nudge. "No buts, just get out of here, and don't come back until you're relaxed."
As much as she hated to admit it, Corrie understood what Vanessa was trying, in her roundabout way, to tell her. She had been too wrapped up in the inn for far too long. Maybe a little time away would do her good. But she was afraid all it would do would be to give her more time to think about Ben. "Okay, I'll try. I'll be back by three thirty."
"No way, Corrie. You don't come back until you're ready."
"But you get off at three thirty."
"Who says I can't stay a little later?" Vanessa put her hands on her hips. "Do you think you're the only one who has to be here? The place won't fall apart without you."
Corrie tried to say something, but Vanessa wouldn't let her get a word in edgewise.
"I am a partner in this venture. Remember that, Corrine Venable Wallace. Do you think that means I work nine to five like some employee?"
"You work six thirty to three thirty," Corrie pointed out.
Vanessa singed her with a withering stare. "And you work from about seven to… I don't know." She shrugged and shook her head. "I should be taking some of the evening duties too."
Corrie had to admit to herself that she did tend to want to have her hands in every aspect of the business, but for the most part, evenings were easy. Someone had to be here, she lived here, so she was the most logical choice. She shrugged.
Vanessa pushed her toward the door. "Go, Corrie," she told her firmly.
Corrie looked down at the desktop, trying to see if she had anything there she'd need. The pressure on her back from Vanessa's hand increased. Corrie tensed.
"Get," Vanessa commanded with a final shove that propelled Corrie toward the door.
Knowing that she'd lost the argument, Corrie reached for the door handle and pulled.
"And when you get back, we'll work out a schedule that includes a day off now and then."
****
It came to Ben sometime during his second hour alone in the campus athletic center that he wasn't going to be able to write a story about Venable House. For there was no story unless he related the account of what had happened between him and Corrie. It took another hour of hard working out for him to accept it. He was just too much of a gentleman to reveal what had happened between him and Corrie.
So, now he had to find another ending for his book. And fast.
He only had about thirty days to put the completed manuscript in the hands of his publisher. Allowing for proofing and editing, that left only three weeks.
Maybe that was why he found himself in the Mustang, driving downtown on his day off and cruising the historical district of Mobile. Ben had to laugh. What did he expect? That a ghost would stand in the middle of the street and flag him down? It would be nice, but fairy tales only happen in the movies.
And books.
And books, Ben agreed. He blinked. Had somebody said that? Was that Ham, or just a stray thought? He shrugged. The notion of books had popped into his mind because he had been so preoccupied with completing his. That was all.
He waited for Ham to protest and announce his presence, but nothing so convenient happened. Ham must be truly, completely gone.
Ben turned onto Government Street and noticed a parking spot in front of one of several historic old inns in the area. Without really thinking about it, Ben pulled into the vacant slot. As he swung out of the car, he couldn't help noticing the similarity between this old building and Venable House.
It was of the same stucco-walled, Mediterranean style that had been popular in the middle of the nineteenth century. Yes, Ben wouldn't be surprised if the same architect hadn't had a hand in designing both buildings. The only perceptible difference was that this building lacked the matched pair of wrought iron balconies that Venable House boasted.
Ben didn't know what kind of excuse he could use to get into the building. He didn't have a reservation, and it was too early in the day to check in anyway. He certainly couldn't just walk in and ask to see the resident ghosts. Ben smiled wryly.
That was practically what he had done with Corrie, he reminded himself. Well, he had called ahead. But no, Corrie had advertised the legend of her tragic ancestors, so they were fair game. He tried to remember what he knew about this particular old house.
Then he saw it.
A sign.
A real sign in neat green lettering on a white background proclaimed that the inn was now serving a luncheon buffet. Visitors were invited as well as guests.
Ben's stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.
He guessed he'd just have to give that buffet a try. Grinning, he accepted the invitation.
****
Corrie expected that when Vanessa had told her to take the day off, she hadn't had in mind what Corrie was doing now. But what was fun for one might seem like work to someone else. Sure, she supposed she could have gone shopping or seen a movie, but shopping was no fun without money. And the movies weren't fun alone.
Besides, they had accumulated quite a collection of DVDs of popular movies for the guests to watch in the library if they wanted. She was pretty up to date on what was out.
She enjoyed the drive through the historical district of Mobile. She'd had a definite destination when she started, but when she'd missed the turn off I-10 onto I-65, she'd decided to take the long way around — the tourist route, so to speak. And now she was seeing many of the sights she'd heard about, but never gotten to explore as a child during her summer vacations at Venable House.
And it wouldn't hurt to be familiar with the sites that her guests were likely to ask about.
She lingered over a rack of tourist brochures until her gaze fell on a picture of Venable House Inn. Corrie reached to pick it up, but as her hand touched the stiff paper, she realized that it was not Venable House at all. Curious, Corrie skimmed the material, fascinated by the close resemblance the establishment bore to her own home. She chuckled. The two places could be twins. Fraternal twins, she amended. This building didn't appear to have the balconies that distinguished the front of her building.
She started to put the brochure back when she noticed something on the end panel of the fold-out pamphlet. The inn had just begun to serve a buffet lunch that was open to the general public.
It was well past lunch time, and Corrie had only nibbled at breakfast. Her stomach wasted no time in registering its opinion.
Government Street was only a stone's throw from where she was now. Why not? She could still check out the other inn later. Corrie collected an assortment of brochures that described her competition, paid for the map, and hurried back to her car.
She had a buffet to investigate.
****
Cory had thought nothing of it when her namesake had walked out the front door of the house. She often went in and out to work on the flower beds or to walk out to the mailbox at the end of the drive, but this day she hadn't come back.
And that worried her.
She had already been restless and edgy since Ham had gone off with Dr. Chastain, but at least, with her occasional trips into Corrie's thoughts, she'd been able to keep herself entertained.
Where had Corrie gone? And why had she been gone so long? Corrie had never stayed away from the house this long before. Not since she'd moved in for good last winter.