A Brand New Ending (Page 53)

“They’re gone.”

He pulled on his earlobe and cocked his head. Silence greeted him. “All of them?”

She gave a squeal of glee and jumped into his arms. He caught her with ease, laughing as he spun her around. “The place is all ours for an entire week. Seven perfect days filled with nothing but laziness.”

“Excellent. Let’s start our vacation right now.”

He began carrying her down the hall toward her bedroom with one obvious purpose, and she didn’t intend to stop him. He’d just bent his head, ready to kiss her, when the doorbell rang.

“There’s no room at the inn,” he growled in warning, glaring at the door. “Let’s ignore it.”

“No, I have to answer it—just in case.” He placed her down, and she peeked through the curtain, frowning when she recognized Albert Townsend, the owner of Crystal’s. She opened the door with a big smile. “Hi, Albert. Is everything okay?”

The older man smiled at her, his short gray beard and still-thick hair cutting an impressive figure. With this charming demeanor, handsome suits, and financial success, he was consistently chased by all the single women in town—both young and old. But he still mourned his wife, even after all these years. He chose to spend most of his time at the restaurant. “Everything’s fine. I decided I’d make a house call rather than use the telephone.”

“Of course. Come in. I’ll get you a cup of coffee or tea.”

“Thank you.” She led him past the crackling fire toward the kitchen, where Kyle was already pouring a mug of coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

“Albert, this is Kyle Kimpton. We actually grew up together, but he moved out to California years ago. He’s here working on a script till spring.”

They shook hands. “Patrick’s son, correct?”

Kyle winced, but kept his smile. “That’s right. We dined at your place last month, and it was amazing. Some of the best steak I ever had.”

Albert beamed. “Thank you. I take pride in the menu and quality. My late wife loved food and beautiful things, so when the Victorian farmhouse it’s in suffered a fire five years ago, I decided to rebuild it in her honor and open up a distinctive dining place.” Albert turned toward Ophelia. “Which is another reason I’ve come to see you today.”

“Mysterious,” she teased. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Coffee. Black, please.”

Kyle poured it for her and passed it over, shifting on his feet as if unsure whether he should stay. Ophelia motioned for him to take a seat beside them, not wanting to exclude him from the conversation.

Albert took a sip and folded his hands neatly on the table. His light-blue eyes peered over a pair of smart-looking spectacles. “I’m not sure if you know this, but you’ve caused quite the stir in our town, Ophelia.”

She frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I had no idea you were a singer.”

Realization struck, and she shifted in her chair. Dammit, she should’ve known the gossip a small town wouldn’t be able to resist. Most of the locals knew she’d left to pursue a singing career, but when she returned home, no one ever spoke of it again. She rarely sang anymore, so that karaoke stunt must have sparked gossip.

“I’m not. I love to sing, but it’s just a hobby. I was having some fun, that’s all.”

He frowned, tapping one finger steadily. “Hmm, I heard your voice. It was quite extraordinary.”

“How did you hear it?”

“YouTube. One of the patrons at the Depot recorded you. Haven’t you seen it? It’s gotten a ton of views, and the number keeps growing.”

Horror washed through her. She’d forgotten that social media rarely cared what you wanted to share. The idea of her singing performance being available for the world to watch sent shivers through her. In a way, her singing had become deeply personal—a gift she kept as a secret, when once she’d longed to share it.

As if he sensed her distress, Kyle slid his hand across the table and squeezed her fingers.

“I didn’t know it had been recorded,” she said.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t know that would make you uncomfortable.” A worried expression flickered across his face. “I guess this makes the favor I was going to ask you a bit awkward.”

“What favor?”

“I’m in desperate need of a singer for Crystal’s. Someone classy, with a pure voice who can offer the patrons something new. I’m completely open on the schedule, since I know the inn is your main career. I was hoping I’d convince you to sing for a few hours, once a week, on a night of your choosing. Of course I’d pay you, and you would be in control of song choices.”

A mix of emotions hit her like a sucker punch. A thrill coursed through her at the idea of being able to sing for a small, appreciative audience; to be able to let her voice go free and wild after so many years locked in a cage.

Yes, it was a small, local restaurant. Yes, her schedule and choices would be under her strict control. But she’d already seen how things could blow up. With social media, what if she was inviting chaos back into her life?

“I can’t thank you enough for the offer, Albert,” she said with a smile, “but I have my hands full running the inn. I’m sure there’s plenty of local talent available who would love such an opportunity.”

“What if Ethan or Mia helped out at the inn?” Kyle interrupted. “I’m sure they’d be supportive. It’s only one night a week, and Albert would probably be understanding if one week didn’t work out here and there.”

“I would,” Albert said. “I just know you’d be perfect, Ophelia. The way you sang gave me goose bumps. It made me happy. It would be an honor to feature you.”

She shot a warning glance at Kyle. “Ethan and Mia are heavily involved in the farm and her PR business—they have no time to cover for me. Neither does Harper. I’m truly sorry, Albert, but I have to say no.”

The silence hung heavy with unspoken words. Kyle slid his hand away, shoved them in his pockets, then studied his coffee as if it held all the answers.

Albert nodded. “I understand, I truly do. It was a long shot. If you ever change your mind, I’d be overjoyed. Just let me know.”

“Thank you.”

They chatted a bit about local town gossip, the harsh winter. Finally, he finished his coffee and left.

The tap of Kyle’s fingers against his cell phone filled the air.

Maybe he’d let it go. Maybe he’d just carry her back to the bedroom and finish what they started. Maybe—

“Why did you do that?”

She let out an impatient breath and faced him. “Because I didn’t want to sing in his restaurant,” she said lightly. She went into the kitchen and loaded the mugs in the dishwasher, tidied up the crumbs on the counter.

“Bullshit,” he shot back. “I saw your face.”

She closed her eyes and fought the waves of energy reverberating from his figure. “I will not discuss this with you. We’re not back in California. I run my own life now. I do not want to sing in public, and you’ll have to respect my decision.”

He muttered a curse. Rubbed his head. “You’re lying to yourself,” he said. “You’ve been smothering the need to sing for an audience for almost a decade now, telling yourself you don’t need it. But it’s a part of who you are. Why can’t you take a chance? God, Ophelia, one night of karaoke is burning up the internet. Look.” He shoved the phone at her.