by Aurora Rey
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Alejandro dove right in. “Tell me about how you came to take on this project?”
Lauren took advantage of the fact they were doing a phone interview and rolled her eyes. There were some parts of the story that didn’t need to be told. “The inn and the attached pub, the Rose & Crown, fell into my lap, quite literally. It was left to me by a relative. I considered a quick sale, but once I arrived, it really spoke to me. I decided to try my hand at this end of the hospitality industry and never looked back.”
“You went beyond basic sprucing up, though. You’ve given this place a whole new identity.”
“Well, it wasn’t without its charms, but people weren’t beating down the door to stay here, if you know what I mean. Netherfield isn’t a place that brings in a lot of visitors, so the Rose & Crown had to be a destination unto itself.”
Alejandro made noises of agreement. “You’ve partnered with Barrister’s, though, haven’t you? They’re based nearby?”
“Yes, and I couldn’t have asked for a better company to work with. Not only are they a tried-and-true brand in the industry, the launch of Carriage House felt like a perfect match for the new and improved Rose & Crown.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
Lauren smiled to herself. No need for him to know that part of the story, either. “Absolutely.”
He asked about the new menu in the pub and the rooms, travel from London, and things to do in the area. Lauren appreciated that he’d clearly written dozens of features like this before and knew what he was doing. She talked up Cam and how great it had been to work with her, got in a plug for the wool works. He wrapped up his questions and she promised to send him the photographs and press kit. She closed with an invitation to the grand opening and was pleasantly surprised when he said he’d try to make it since he’d be in Dublin the week before on another assignment.
Lauren hung up the phone almost giddy. Even if she had the money, she couldn’t buy the press a write-up in a magazine like Traveler would create. She did a little happy dance, then left her office to go share the good news. She found the three of them exactly where she’d left them. Well, not exactly. Anja and Cam had claimed seats at the bar, and Cam and Charlotte were both bent over with laughter. “Do I even want to know?”
At the sound of Lauren’s voice, Cam looked up. She found Lauren regarding her—them, really—with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. The same look might have given her pause just a couple of months ago, but now it stirred up a whole different set of feelings. A few that gave her a whole different kind of pause, but that was a worry for another day.
“Probably not.” Anja shrugged. “I was telling them about the Lexington pitch.”
Lauren groaned. “Of course you did. I’ll never live that down.”
Cam had found it endearing to hear about one of Lauren’s misadventures. It made her all the more real, more relatable. “How did the interview go?”
“Amazing.” Lauren paused on each syllable. “He’s doing a full feature on the inn and pub and might even make it to the opening.”
“He’s going to write an article, just like that?” Cam shook her head in disbelief. Lauren had implied that might be the case, but she figured it would be something small. Not inconsequential, just small.
“I mean, it helps that I’ve worked with him before.”
“So, is he doing you a favor?”
Lauren tipped her head back and forth. “Yes and no. More a mutual benefit thing. I pretty much gave him the story wrapped up pretty with a bow on top, saving him a ton of legwork. I also gave him first dibs on the story.”
Cam continued to shake her head. It made sense, the way Lauren explained it, but she still couldn’t believe it was as simple as that. Either Lauren was more talented in her line of work than Cam had given her credit for or her own efforts on that front had been even clumsier than she cared to admit.
“I think Barrister’s and Carriage House will get a nice mention, too. I was able to work in the classes as well as the tastings and tour.”
“That’s really great.” And almost too easy.
“Why do you look so unhappy, then?”
“I’m plenty happy. Surprised, maybe. You make it seem so easy.”
Lauren crossed her arms over her chest. “I am pretty good at this, you know.”
“You are.” Cam nodded. “I’m sorry if I haven’t given you enough credit.”
“I think I like it when you’re conciliatory.” Her smirk managed to be both playful and sexy.
Cam knew Charlotte and Anja were watching and likely forming opinions as the conversation played out, but she couldn’t resist returning the suggestive look. “Don’t get used to it.”
Lauren laughed teasingly. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Before Cam could respond, Jane walked in. Another round of introductions ensued. It didn’t take long for Cam to find herself scheduled for her photo shoot and tasked with securing a long list of props Lauren insisted they needed. She had a quick lunch with Jane and headed back to the distillery. As she had on so many occasions with Lauren, she felt a little bit like she’d been swept up in a whirlwind of tasks, ideas, and energy. The funny thing was, she didn’t mind so much anymore. In fact, she was kind of getting used to it.
Chapter Twenty-one
When Lauren gave her the list of things she wanted for the photo shoot, Cam almost didn’t take her seriously. But then the list was so detailed, with descriptions that bordered on paragraphs, it became clear she wasn’t kidding. The bossiness of it should have bristled, but it didn’t. Maybe because the intensity of Lauren’s attention was focused on her, on something she cared so much about.
It took the better part of the morning to hunt up everything on it, including a trip to the market and to her herb garden. They’d agreed to do the shoot in the tasting room, so she hauled everything there and arranged it on the back bar. Once she had it all set up, and no longer had a task to keep her busy, the nerves kicked in. She’d never been the subject of a photo shoot. To be honest, she had no desire to be. She liked working behind the scenes, letting her product shine instead of herself.
But Lauren had been adamant. And for all that her friend Anja seemed more laid-back, she’d been adamant, too. Cam had managed to convince herself it wouldn’t be a big deal, but now that the day had arrived, it was a different story.
She’d just started to work out an excuse to change course when Lauren and Anja arrived. Their energy took up all the space in the room and they talked a mile a minute, not giving her the chance to speak, much less argue. They bustled around, arranging things and setting up lights. In spite of getting more anxious by the minute, she had to admire how efficient and professional they seemed. Like they did this sort of thing for a living.
By the time they were done, she’d talked herself out of throwing a tantrum and refusing to participate. Mostly. “Tell me again why I have to be the face of Carriage House?”
Lauren laced her fingers together and gave her a patient smile. “Because having the distiller be the face is way more authentic than hiring a model and your brand is about authenticity without pretense.”
“And you’re hot,” Anja said without looking up from her camera.
Cam pinched the bridge of her nose. “You don’t have to fluff me up with flattery. I’ve already agreed to this.”
“I’m not flattering you, I’m speaking the truth.” She pointed at Cam and made little circles with her finger. “You’ve got a nice face there. The camera is going to love it.”
She couldn’t tell if they meant what they were saying or if this was the standard spiel to butter up a reluctant subject. Not that it mattered. Either notion made her squirm. “I’m going to stop complaining because the compliments are making me more uncomfortable than the prospect of being photographed.”
Lauren grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
The concept seemed sound enough, but the reality of
her face appearing in adverts gave her more panic than she cared to admit. She reminded herself doing it was cheaper than hiring a model—a silly argument, but she clung to it, like she was taking one for the team or something. “All right. Let’s get on with it, then.”
“I’m going to do a few test shots for lighting.” Anja pointed to the bar they’d set up for the shoot. “Stand there, but you don’t have to pose or anything.”
Cam did as she was told, giving herself a pep talk that included the veto power she’d been promised if she hated how the photos came out. Anja’s camera clicked away, giving her the chance to practice tuning it out. Instead, she focused her attention on the setup. Three bottles of Carriage House stood in a little cluster. A cutting board, some lemons and grapefruit, and a vintage cocktail shaker were artfully arranged. She’d thought the sprigs of juniper cheesy, but they provided a nice splash of green to the arrangement.
When exactly had she started using the phrase “splash of green”? She shook her head. She just needed to get through the next hour. Lauren had promised it wouldn’t last longer than that. She could do anything for an hour.
“Okay, we’re ready.”
Cam expected Lauren to take charge, but she didn’t. In fact, she stepped out of Cam’s line of sight entirely. Anja gave her directions—pouring gin, shaking a cocktail. There was a lot of clicking. A few times, she asked Cam to look her way. Smile, don’t smile, look at the cutting board. She also took some shots at close range, capturing the label and nothing more than Cam’s hand. Maybe she’d get lucky and they’d use those.
“You’re doing great. Just a few more.” Anja’s voice was encouraging without being patronizing and her directions were clear and confident. It was enough to make her relax, at least in relative terms.
When Anja announced they were done, she was genuinely surprised. “Really?”
Anja grinned at her. “Unless you want to keep going.”
Cam chuckled at the statement and the gentle teasing behind it. “No, no, I think I’m good.”
Lauren appeared from the background. “You were a natural.”
She’d not forgotten Lauren was there. She could never really lose track of Lauren being in the same space as her. But it was the closest she’d come since they’d met. Cam chalked it up to Anja’s skill as a photographer that she’d commanded so much focus. “Let’s not exaggerate.”
Anja shook her head. “No, she’s right. I do this a lot. You looked comfortable, completely in your element. These shots are going to be perfect.”
“Now what?”
Lauren came up next to her and slid an arm through hers. “You can look at them with us, but I warn you it can be overwhelming. If you want, we’ll do the initial round and bring you a couple dozen to consider.”
Although Lauren was in a sundress and a cardigan, Cam could imagine her in the power suit, gently steering the client where she wanted. “I’m getting the full treatment right now, aren’t I?”
Lauren balked and Anja laughed out loud. She angled her head in Cam’s direction. “She’s got your number, doesn’t she?”
Lauren gave Cam a coy smile. “Something like that.”
It would be easy to while away the rest of her day like this, but she had work to do. “Can I make you two a cocktail with all these ingredients we have out? You’re welcome to stay here while you work.”
Anja actually clapped. “Oh, I was hoping there’d be cocktails.”
Cam made them each a drink and escaped to the quiet of her office. Once there, she booted up her computer and pulled up the distilling schedule for the next couple of months. Carriage House was only booked for two of the next ten weeks. She didn’t want to cut production of Barrister’s, but it would be nice to need more Carriage House. They had the capacity to add some cycles to the calendar if demand increased, but she was hesitant to make the investment without the orders in hand.
She let herself think about what that might be like—demand she could hardly keep up with. It came with its own host of problems, of course, but at this point, they’d be problems she’d be happy to have. Cam shook her head. No point putting the cart before the horse. She chuckled at herself, along with the cheesy analogies she’d resorted to, and got back to work.
* * *
“Oh, that’s a good one.” Anja pointed at the screen. “Cam is so photogenic.”
“She is.” Lauren swallowed the emotion that swelled in her chest. Arousal, sure, but there was more to it.
Anja continued to scroll through the images. “Seriously, there isn’t a bad one here.”
“Yeah.” She thought of her own photo shoot the day before. They’d come away with quite a few keepers, more than enough to use in the campaign and enough to give Lauren’s ego a little boost. But she had nothing on this. Seeing Cam this way—confident, at ease, completely in her element—did things to Lauren’s heart. She shook her head. She was being sentimental. It had to be the magnitude of the opening right around the corner. Right?
“Are you still going to try to convince me you’re not in love with her?”
Lauren pulled her eyes from the screen and looked at her. The reality of her feelings felt like an elephant on her chest. “No.”
Anja beamed. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m not sure the feelings are mutual.” She shook her head. “And even if they are, I don’t know what to do with them.”
“You always make everything so complicated.”
Lauren chuckled at the assumption. “I don’t make them that way. They just are.”
“Are you happy here?”
God. What a loaded question.
“Don’t layer it with all the ifs and buts and bullshit. Simple question, yes or no answer only. Are you happy here?”
“Yes.” She didn’t need to think about her answer and it absolutely terrified her.
“Well, I’m glad you can admit it. I won’t poke at you more, at least for now. We’ve got too much to do.”
So much to do. “Thanks.”
“Let’s pick the ones we want for your article so I can polish them up and plug them in. Then I’ll make a flash drive of all the others for you to use for Carriage House.”
Lauren nodded, relieved to have tasks that would demand her time and attention for the next few days. “You’re the best.”
Anja tipped her head to the side and winked. “I know.”
They packed up Anja’s equipment and the laptop. Cam hadn’t returned, and Lauren felt strange seeking her out while she was working, so they left without saying good-bye. Back at the inn, she helped carry everything into Anja’s room and then went to her own office.
Her to-do list for the opening still felt at least a mile long. The rooms, at least, were done, along with the minor refurbishments to the pub and common area. Everything that remained was important, but if people literally showed up today, she’d at least have somewhere to put them.
She started with a couple of phone calls—one to the florist she’d contracted with and one to the musicians she booked. She smiled as she placed a check mark next to each. So satisfying.
Next up, email. She wanted to confirm with Alejandro she’d be sending all the photos they’d discussed for the story in the next couple of days. Lauren pulled up her inbox and frowned. At the top of her unread messages sat one from Chrissy, her admin from KesslerAldridge. It was marked urgent. She clicked on the message and skimmed its contents. The vague foreboding from seeing the header multiplied exponentially. The misgiving took shape, clear and concrete and ugly. With it, the image of Philip filled her mind.
She went back to the beginning and read the email again. Phrases like “sexual harassment” and “hostile work environment” blurred together with “wrongful termination” and “civil suit.” Lauren’s vision blurred. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a few breaths, and tried again.
On the third read, meaning began to take shape. Philip, it seemed, had made quite a habit of treating women in the c
ompany badly and was now the subject of a massive complaint and possible civil lawsuit. She was being asked to give a deposition, and possibly, eventually, testify.
Her palms grew sweaty and a muscle over her left eye started to twitch. A torrent of emotions vied for the top spot in her mind. Renewed anger over what he’d done sparred with grim satisfaction that he might be held accountable. Wanting to be part of taking him down warred with never wanting to see him again. And on top of it all, a blanket of guilt for not reporting him the second he touched her.
The most suffocating part was the guilt, the idea that another woman might have been touched, been undermined, because she didn’t act when she could have. It left this hollow ache in her rib cage, but also made it feel like she couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t deal with this right now. She didn’t have time. After the opening.
Even as she told herself that, she shook her head. No. She wouldn’t run this time. She would face Philip and KesslerAldridge head-on, and she’d take them down. Well, at least Philip. She didn’t necessarily wish fire and brimstone on the agency. She flashed back to the day she was fired without even the courtesy of being asked for her side of the story. Maybe a little fire and brimstone.
Before she could second-guess herself, she hit reply. Yes, she would give a deposition. Yes, she could be in New York sometime in the next month. Yes, she was interested in learning more about a wrongful termination suit.
She clicked send and then stared at the screen. It would be fine. She did want to deal with this once and for all. And she hadn’t been home in almost three months, much longer than she anticipated when she left.
She sighed. Home. She’d not stopped thinking about New York as home, but putting it into words felt off. It must be a time and distance thing. She hadn’t been away from the city for so long since, well, ever. And she’d let her life here consume everything. Intentionally, but still.
