Нора Робертс: The Last Boyfriend

“Give me the damn paper.”

Hope tore it off. “I’m sure Owen or Beckett or one of the crew could take care of it if you’re too busy.”

He just stuffed the paper into his pocket and walked away.

“Are you sure he’s your brother?” Hope muttered.

“Pretty sure. He’s a little stressed with punching out here so we can make the deadline, riding the work on Beck’s house, getting the demo finished next door for the bakery.”

“It’s a lot,” Hope conceded. “Why aren’t you stressed? You’ve got the same meal on your plate.”

“Different categories, I guess. I don’t have to boss. I get to negotiate.” He set the shipping box on the floor of the bathroom.

Considering, Hope unboxed the little glass shelf. “Just a small thing, the kind of detail no one will really notice.”

“Unless it wasn’t there.”

“Like a place for your toothbrush.” She smiled, then tapped the wall. “Right here. If you don’t need me, I’ll go back up until you do.”

Hope slipped into Westley and Buttercup on her way, found Carolee busily mopping the bedroom floor.

“Carolee, the bathroom looks great. It sparkles.”

Justine’s sister, her cheeks pink with effort, pushed at her blond hair. “I swear I haven’t cleaned that hard in years . But it’s worth it. I keep thinking, I’m going to work here! I’m going to come into this room all the time. You need me for anything? Boss?”

Hope laughed. “You’re outpacing me. I stopped to get Owen going on the shelves and so on. I’m just going to see how Justine’s doing, then I’ll be in my apartment. My innkeeper’s apartment. Oh, I nearly forgot. If you’ve got any time over the next couple days, I want to go over the reservation program with you one more time. Because we’re going to start taking reservations.”

“Oh boy.” Carolee waved her hands in the air in triumph. “Oh boy, oh boy.”

She felt the same way, Hope thought as she hustled back inside. She hadn’t been so excited over a job since she’d first started at the Wickham Hotel in Georgetown. Not a good comparison, she reminded herself, considering how that had turned out.

And yet the debacle with Jonathan Wickham, and her decision to resign as manager, had opened the door for her to Inn BoonsBoro.

A beautiful building, beautifully appointed in a charming town with her two closest friends nearby. No, she’d never been quite this excited over a job.

She peeked into The Penthouse, saw Justine sitting on the wide windowsill of the parlor, looking out at Main Street.

“Taking a break,” Justine told her. “That bathroom is huge —and I’ve got no one to blame but myself for that.”

“I’ll finish it up.”

“It’s done, but I think we’ll give it one more going-over before the grand-opening party. I was just sitting here thinking how this place looked when I first dragged the boys in to look it over. My God. And I’m thinking, too, how pleased and proud Tommy would be. And how he’s probably a little pissed off he didn’t get to hammer in a few nails.”

“He taught his sons how to hammer them, so he’s had as much a part in creating this as they have.”

Justine’s eyes softened. “That’s a good thing to say. Just the right thing.” She held out a hand, giving Hope’s a tug when they joined. “I wish it would snow. I want to see how it looks in the snow, then in the spring and the summer, on into the fall. I want to see it shine here, in every season.”

“I’ll keep it beautiful for you.”

“I know you will. You’ll be happy here, Hope. I want you to be happy here, to have everyone who comes to stay happy here.”

“I’m already happy here.”

Happier than she’d been in a long time, Hope thought as she went back to polishing her kitchen cabinets. She had an opportunity to do good work for good people.

She tipped her head as she studied the cabinets. And to reward herself, she’d pop over to the gift store before closing and buy those gorgeous bowls she’d had her eye on. A little personal housewarming gift.

Ryder carted in boxes. “What is it with women and shelves?” he demanded. “How many linear feet of flat surface does one person need?”

“That would depend,” she said coolly, “on how many things that person chooses to display.”

“Dust catchers.”

“Dust catchers to some, mementos and personal style to others.”

“Where the hell do you want your flat surfaces for your mementos and personal style? I haven’t got all day.”

“Just leave them. I’ll deal with them later.”

“Fine.”

He set them on the floor, turned.

His mother stood in the doorway, arms folded, giving him a look that still made his shoulders hunch and his balls shrink up a little.

“I apologize for my son, Hope. He’s obviously misplaced his manners inside his crappy mood.”

“It’s nothing. Ryder’s busy. Everyone’s busy today.”

“Busy doesn’t serve as an excuse for rude. Does it, Ryder?”

“No, ma’am. I’d be happy to hang your shelves,” he said to Hope, “if you’ll show me where you want them.”

“That’s better.” Justine gave him one last hard look before she went back across the hall.

“Well?” Ryder demanded. “Where am I putting them?”

“The suggestion I have at the moment wouldn’t be the walls.”

His grin came fast and bright, surprising her. “Since I don’t have any mementos I’d like to stick up my ass, how about a second choice?”

“Just leave them there, and you?” She pointed toward the door.

Gauging her, he hooked his thumbs in his tool belt. “I’m not afraid of you, but I’m afraid of her. I don’t hang these, she’ll make me pay for it. So I’m not leaving until you pick your spots.”

“They’re already marked.”

“What’s marked?”

“I measured the shelves, I measured the space. I marked the areas.” She gestured to the space between her front windows, then toward the bathroom. “I think you can take it from there.”

Tossing down her polishing rag, she sailed out. She’d help Owen until his bad-tempered brother finished.

Avery kept up with the progress across Main by texts, and a quick drop-in from Clare. With the bus tour finished and the rush quieted, she took a short break in the back dining room to scarf down some pasta.

For now, the video machines stayed silent. She calculated another hour or two before kids slid in after school to set them beeping and banging.

The quarters added up, she reminded herself.

“I really wanted to get over, just for a minute, to see.” She gulped down Gatorade. Energy, she thought. She needed all she could get to finish it out till closing. “Hope sent me some pictures over the phone.”

“I couldn’t give them any real time, either. The bus tour swarmed us, too. God bless them, every one.” Clare smiled, picked at her own salad. “Beckett told me the inspector gave the thumbs-up on the load-in. All of it.”

“All of it?”

“It’s nothing but details now, and he’ll be back, but he said they could start bringing everything in. Hope can’t move in, of course, but we can really start setting things up.”

Sulking, Avery stabbed at pasta. “I’m not going to be left out of this!”

“Avery, it’ll take days. Weeks, really.”

“I want to play now.” Then she blew out a breath. “Okay, not now because my feet are already killing me. But tomorrow. Maybe.” She stuffed in more pasta. “Look at you. You look so happy.”

“I’m happier every day. Yoda threw up in Murphy’s bed this morning.”

“That’s reason to celebrate, all right.”