A Brand New Ending (Page 30)

“We’ll make sure we leave a very high review on Yelp and TripAdvisor,” Carl said seriously.

“It’s my pleasure. Seven p.m. okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Good. I’ll leave the coffee out. Let me know if you need anything else.”

She headed back to the kitchen for cleanup, adding the call to the restaurant on her to-do list. Two more guests were checking in later today, and she wanted to have tea, hot cocoa, and cookies ready when they arrived. The rooms were made up and laundry was finished, but she needed to freshen up the main area near the fireplace. It would be nice to offer the guests s’mores tonight in front of the fire, and set up a cozy area to play board games or watch some movies on the new flat-screen TV she’d just invested in. She scribbled it on her growing list and began the cleanup.

The phone rang, and she carefully hit the speaker button with her soapy hands. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Mia. Whatcha doing?”

“Dishes.”

“Ugh. I hate dishes.” Ophelia practically heard her shudder. “And cooking. I kind of hate all types of domestic duties.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t own an inn,” she teased. “What’s up?”

“I want to go out.”

“I can’t right now. I’m slammed with work.”

“No, at night. Like grown-ups. It’s been snowing here for almost three straight weeks, and all I’ve worn is practical snow boots and shapeless sweaters. I love our bungalow, but there’s only three rooms to see, and Hei Hei is driving me crazy. I want a girls’ night out.”

“I can’t leave tonight. Too much going on,” she said.

Mia did something Ophelia had never witnessed before.

She whined.

“Oh please? Don’t say no. I want to go dancing and have pretty pink cocktails and wear my Louboutins. I want to talk about boys and trashy television and fashion. I’m going mad. I think I have that winter disease that makes people do bad things. Didn’t Jack Nicholson have that in the movie The Shining?”

“No, it was the hotel ghosts haunting him. You’re probably lacking vitamin E and D. I’ll bring some over for you today.”

“Harper already said she’d go with us,” Mia said.

“Really?” Her sister rarely left her home or the barn in the winter. “Boy, that’s proof you are good at your job.” Persuasion was a key trait in the world of public relations, and Mia was a savvy, talented CEO of her own successful company. “How about tomorrow night? I can get ahead of schedule today and be free then?”

Mia squealed—another thing she rarely did. “Perfect! I’ve already done some research and know exactly where we should go. I’ll tell Ethan we’ll be out the entire night and home very late.”

“Not too late,” she said.

“Very late,” Mia insisted. “I have to pick out my outfit. Do you have something to wear, or do you need to go shopping?”

Ophelia laughed.

God, she loved Mia and her love of a good designer. It was such a breath of fresh air.

“I’m sure I have something appropriately slutty to put on.”

“Excellent! I’ll make all the arrangements and see you tomorrow night!”

She said goodbye and hit the button.

“Where are you going in slutty clothes?”

Ophelia jumped, turning half around. Kyle was stretched in the doorway. From the looks of his mussed hair, sweatpants, old shirt, and socks without shoes, he had been in a deep writing mode.

Had he slept as poorly as she had? Her mind kept replaying their conversation, going over every detail. Had her confession allowed him to view their past differently? Last night had been intense, but she felt free for finally telling him the truth.

The only problem was it hadn’t dulled her attraction—or intense need—for him.

Her fingers itched to bury themselves in his hair and comb through the silky strands. She ached to kiss those full lips and have him lift her high to take the embrace deeper, lay her out on the counter, tug off her clothes, and feast on every naked inch of her body before he—

“Ophelia?”

The plate she’d been washing almost slid out of her grasp and crashed. She caught it at the last second and winced. “Sorry, I was thinking about my to-do list. Umm, Mia wants to go out tomorrow for a night of debauchery. She’s used to living in Manhattan, so this is her first winter snowbound in the mountains. She’s going a bit mad.”

“Aren’t we all?” he murmured, his gaze snagging hers. “Need any help?”

“No, thanks. How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” His eyes lit with excitement, a sign he liked what he was creating. “The story is moving slow, but there’s potential. Wanted to see if we could have lunch. Talk. We can go down the road to the diner. I’ve been thinking about our conversation last night.”

She turned back to the sink and steeled her shoulders. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid—this forced intimacy that only reminded her of their past and how she still ached for him. Their last family dinner had proved she was still vulnerable with him.

My God, she’d almost kissed him in the middle of cooking! She had to stick to her original rules—no interaction while he stayed here.

“Sorry, I’m busy all day. Lots of work to do.”

“What if I get us sandwiches and we eat here?”

“I had a late breakfast, so I’m skipping lunch. Maybe you can eat with Mia. She could use the company.”

Though she had her back turned and couldn’t see his expression, she sensed his frustration in the air. Prepared for another invitation, she got ready to give another excuse.

“What if I promised not to bring up last night at all? We can go over my pick for lawyers. I’ve narrowed it down to two, but I need help deciding who to book.”

She switched off the water, dried her hands, and faced him with pure suspicion. “You looked at my email?” He’d rejected the first two lawyers she suggested, so she’d sent him a more comprehensive list with contact and background information. So far, he’d been unresponsive.

“Of course. I wanted to see if we could make a list of the things we need to complete to get organized. But if you’re busy . . .” He trailed off, shrugging as if it wouldn’t be his fault if their divorce took years to settle. “I’m in no rush.”

Dammit. She needed that divorce ASAP.

She knew he was using it as blackmail to get her to spend time with him, but at this point she didn’t care. It was a means to the end she needed. “Fine. I can squeeze in half an hour.”

His smile lit up his face, and her heart tripped. He was so beautiful. He could’ve easily been the one in front of the camera. She bet he was highly sought-after by many beautiful, famous women. Hurt cut through her at the thought, but she knew she had no right to be jealous.

“Great. I’ll pick you up a tuna wrap and meet you downstairs at one,” he said. “If you need me, I’ll be working.”

“I’ll bring the printouts and research,” she said. “We can make some calls.”

He didn’t answer, just nodded. With one last long look, he headed back to his room.

Ophelia spent the rest of the morning making sure the inn was running smoothly, baking her chocolate chip cookies that were always nut free, and pulling out a variety of crocheted afghans to place around the rooms. She still had a few hours of work on the computer, but she’d have plenty of time for that this afternoon.