As she tapped open the email, she saw Abe Ginsburg cc’d and was glad to have her attorney involved.
Dear Ms. Armstrong,
This is to advise you that the board requires the presence of you and your attorney at our October board meeting…
Willow quickly closed it. Out of sight, out of mind, right? An email from Abe also sat in the inbox, from three hours after the board letter had been sent.
Keep your chin up, Willow. You’re stronger than the whole lot of them.
Thank God for Abe and his wife, the closest thing she’d ever had to an aunt and uncle. When Willow was growing up, when it seemed like the whole world barely noticed her, the two of them would. They’d talk to her about current events, suggested books she might like to read, asked her about school.
“Here you go, miss.”
Bonnie held a plate and waited for Willow to move her things before setting it on the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No thanks, I’m good right now.”
“Cheers, then.” The waitress smiled and left.
Using her fork, she broke into the crunchy, coated fish. One bite and satisfaction surged through her. Yes, she liked her new commandment and planned to follow it religiously while here.
She savored each bite. How many times in her life would she have passed on such an indulgence, selecting something like broiled cod instead? She scooped up another forkful. The flaky white fish, offset by the crisp-fried batter, definitely tickled her fancy. A true elixir for what ailed her soul, along with crunchy fries and buttery mushy peas.
For several minutes, she worked her way around the plate and let the joy of a good meal flow. Halfway through, she leaned back and finished off her beer while looking around. More folks now sat at the bar and the 60s music—a Frankie Valli tune—seemed louder than when she’d arrived. She searched for the waitress to order another beer.
Just as the trumpets escalated and Frankie belted out, “I love you, baby…” her gaze landed on Bonnie being serenaded by none other than Owen.
He sang loudly, placing both hands over his heart and making them thump. Bonnie stood near a barstool, swaying to the music and laughing.
Owen continued to sing and move his hips, looking pretty darn good in black Levis. At the next verse, he belted out, “Oh pretty baby…” then took Bonnie’s hand and twirled her around. The bar crowd roared their delight.
As he un-spun Bonnie, she threw her head back and laughed again. “Owen, you kill me. Now let me go take my customers’ orders.” She crossed the room to a table near the door. Owen returned to the bar while the gang applauded him.
She watched him in his natural environment. Friends patted him on the back, enjoying a moment of comic relief. He was obviously well liked.
She sighed and returned to her dinner, giving up on the idea of ordering another beer.
A few minutes later, Bonnie walked over with a beer in hand.
Willow laughed. “You must be a mind reader.”
She smiled. “Don’t I wish. It’s from Owen. He claims nobody should have an empty pint with their fish-and-chips.”
Willow chuckled. “Good words to live by.”
She glanced to the bar, where Owen sat with his back to her, the sleeves of his oxford shirt rolled to his elbows and tails out. A thin leather jacket hung off the back of his stool. She’d been about to ask Bonnie to thank him, but he chose that second to turn around. He gave her a big smile and lifted a brow.
She waved and mouthed, “Thanks.”
He saluted her with two fingers to his temple and turned around.
Willow looked up at Bonnie, who watched Owen with a slight smile. “I caught your dance number.”
Bonnie shook her head. “He’s always doing things like that. Such a clown.” She took the empty beer glass. “A real charmer, that one is.”
Was he? Willow hadn’t noticed. Well, maybe a little. He did have those kind eyes and captivating smile. “He seems to know everyone.”
“Owen was raised here, but moved away for a while. Now he’s back to raise his daughter.”
“I met her. Jilly’s a sweet girl.”
“Hey, Bonnie. You’ve got some thirsty clientele over here.” A slightly plump man with white hair and a noticeable slur in his voice yelled from the bar. Bonnie looked his way, and he winked and blew her a kiss.
“Cheeky bastard,” she whispered to Willow. Her voice rose and she waggled a finger in the direction of the customer. “Don’t be such an arse, Reggie, or I’ll cut you off right now.”
The man’s full cheeks puffed. “What? You wouldn’t do that!”
“Okay, then. How about I call your wife to come get you?”
His face flashed beet red and he turned around. Bonnie laughed. “I’ve got to rule this place with an iron fist. Otherwise they’ll take advantage, you know?”
Willow laughed, thinking about her staff at the company. “I hear you. It’s the same in the US.”
“Holler if you need anything else, love.”
She left and Willow returned to her food. Taking a bite, she glanced over to Owen’s seat, now empty.
Just as she shoved a chip in her mouth, someone behind her spoke quietly into her ear, “Never thought I’d find you here, Rosebud.”
She coughed, nearly choking on the chip. Owen walked around, took the seat across from her, and pushed her water glass closer. She took a drink and cleared her throat. “With only three restaurants in town, the odds were pretty narrow. I do have a name, you know.”
He laughed and leaned back, slinging his arm over the back of the empty chair next to him. “What’s the matter, Willow?” He said her name easily, like he’d known her forever. “You don’t like nicknames?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had one.” She ate another chip.
“They aren’t meant to hurt. Not the special ones, anyway.” The deep and fluid timbre of his voice held a soothing quality. His gaze dropped to her neckline, where she knew the necklace dangled; then his eyes slowly lifted and met hers. “I think the name suits you.”
Willow’s cheeks burned. It wasn’t that he took the time to give her a nickname. More like the idea he somehow believed the beautiful flower suited her. A woman who, in her mind, was the opposite of delicate and flowerlike, who didn’t deserve a name as graceful as Willow.
“Shall I go? I’m interrupting your meal.” He started to get up.
“No. I don’t mind if you stay. And thanks for the beer.” She pushed her remaining fries toward him. “Want some?”
He lowered himself back in the chair. “No thanks. I’m waiting for an order at the bar. The food is good here.”
“So is the entertainment. I enjoyed your show with Bonnie. You guys dating or just friends?”
“Dating?” He laughed. “She’s probably fifteen years too young for me, don’t you think?”
Willow shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first man to date out of your age group.”
“I guess not. Well, she’s a friend, that’s all.”
“It looked like fun. You’re quite a performer.” She picked up her napkin and wiped her fingers. “Oh, the power company came by.”
He raised his dark brows. “That was fast.”
“I thought so, too. Figured you pulled some strings.”
“Nope.”
“Anyway, they said I need the house rewired. Do you know an electrician?”
He thought for a moment. “One of my mates from school runs a local business. I’ll call him for you, see if he can stop by.”
“That would be fantastic. I mean, I love the B and B, but it’s costing me money. Sooner I get the house livable, the sooner I can stay there while finishing my cleanup.”
He nodded and didn’t say anything, but his furrowed brows suggested he overthought what she’d said.
&n
bsp; “I saw Jilly and Henry today.”
“Did you now?”
“She came over with a thermos of tea her grandmother made.”
Owen’s face warmed. “Bea. She’s my former mother-in-law and a true saint. I don’t know how I’d do this with Jilly if it weren’t for her.”
“Your parents aren’t in the area?”
“Oh, they are.” He looked at her plate for a second and his jaw tensed. “They didn’t approve of my divorce. At least Dad didn’t. But they help occasionally. I—never mind.” She almost asked why they didn’t approve, but he said, “Hey, tomorrow I thought I’d come over after lunch to help you. Is that okay?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. Really. I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
She stared into his dark eyes, filled with warmth and sincerity. “Sure. I appreciate the offer.”
“Great.” He stood, gave her a quick smile. “Cheers then.”
“Goodnight.”
One thing remained certain. Owen Hughes was an enigma. Cheery and well liked by everyone on the surface, but every so often, she’d sense more in his quietness. Or the slight tenseness on his face. What went on during those moments? Maybe tomorrow she’d find out.
Chapter 9
“Excuse me, Edna?”
Willow stood in the doorway to the room behind the reception desk, waiting while Edna talked to a woman wearing a formal gown from centuries ago. Edna kneeled on the floor beside the woman, folding the hem. She slid a pin along the silky fabric and looked up at Willow. “Hello there. Come on in.”
She entered, giving a smile to the other woman. “Sorry to interrupt. Eddie said he’d drive me to the house, but I can’t find him.”
“He just went upstairs, but he’ll be right back down. This is my friend, Kathleen.” She motioned to the curly-haired brunette, wearing dark-rimmed, modern-styled glasses and an eighteenth-century bonnet, the contrast a little odd. “Kathleen, this is Willow, our newest guest. Her grandparents used to own that lovely house down the road that’s been empty for a long time. You know, where Tracey Hughes lived.” Edna shook her head and tapped Kathleen’s leg. “Can you turn a little?”
Edna hadn’t mentioned she knew Jilly’s mother before this, but in a town this size, she surely at least knew of her.
“Hello.” Kathleen tipped her baby-blue bonnet at Willow. “A pleasure to meet you.” She gently lifted the skirt of her delicate white dress, which had added feminine touches of a satin blue belt and dotted little flowers of the same color, and did a half turn. “My new dress for the festival. What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.” Willow’s black yoga pants and oversized pullover seemed way underdressed right now.
Edna slipped another pin into the dress hem. “The Grand Promenade is in three days, and then a week later is the Regency Costumed Masked Ball. It’s my favorite event. Willow, you should come to the ball.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I mean, I don’t have a dress—”
“I have several dresses,” Kathleen said. “I’d be happy to let you borrow one.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you.” Willow couldn’t imagine taking time from her schedule for a ball, but she didn’t want to offend, either. “Let me think about it.”
“Looking for me, Willow?” Eddie appeared behind her. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
She thanked Kathleen for the dress offer and left with Eddie. On the way to the house, even he talked about the festival. In the span of just over a week, the festivities also included readings from Austen’s work, presentations on clothing and accessories of the time period, and ballroom dance workshops.
Once at the house, she thanked Eddie for the ride, and told him she’d walk home again this afternoon.
Soon as she got inside, she went to the living room and admired its uncluttered and cleaned-up state. A sign of progress. But more important were fond memories of yesterday’s tea with Jilly, which cemented a history of her own in this house. A history she’d been denied thanks to her mother’s silence. Fast as the thought appeared, she let it go. It was foolish to cling to anger over what could’ve been.
She continued to the kitchen, a room she’d need if she ever planned on staying here. At least she would if she ever got power restored. It might be smart to see how long the B and B could house her.
She entered the room and stepped onto linoleum flooring, dulled by dirt and wear over time. A tiled backsplash needed cleaning, and the countertops still held a dated toaster and a Westwood mixer.
She boxed up everything on the counters, hoping an antique store might want these relics. For a few hours, she scoured the counters and floors until her arms ached.
When her stomach growled for the third time, she glanced at her watch. Half past twelve. Lunchtime. She wiped off her dirty hands with some baby wipes while inspecting her work. Cleaner but not any newer.
As Willow grabbed her sandwich, a car pulled into the driveway. She stepped out onto the porch just as Owen’s van came to a stop. He waved then got out, holding a bag.
She squinted into the bright sun. “I figured you’d smarten up and change your mind. This cleaning is dirty work.”
He approached and stopped in front of her, grinning. Reaching up, he gently brushed her chin with his finger. “I can see that. You’ve got a smudge right there.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Oh, thanks.” She pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket and wiped. “Did I get it?”
He tilted his head to inspect her and when his warm eyes met hers, she got a little jolt. “Yup.”
She turned to the door and motioned him inside, wishing to put distance between his sweet little gestures and her ridiculously overt feminine reactions. In the business world, a man would never have dared to do such a thing, nor would she have allowed herself to react.
“I’m taking a lunch break.”
He lifted the bag he carried. “Good. I was going to eat, too.”
She followed behind him, vowing to watch her reactions to his nice guy gestures. It wouldn’t be smart to get close to anybody here. “Why don’t we eat in the living room?”
He shrugged off his light jacket, tossed it on the staircase banister, and entered the living room.
“Have a seat.” Willow took one on the sofa and he sat across from her on an upholstered chair, resting his lunch on the table.
He glanced around the room. “You’ve been busy.”
She removed her sandwich from the wrapper. “When I set my mind on something, it usually happens.”
He lifted a brow while taking out a bottle of soda and twisting off the top. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I did my first entertaining in the house yesterday. Tea with Jillian and Henry.”
“So you said at Rory’s. She had fun, too. Naturally her sidekick came along.” He chuckled softly and took a sip of his drink. “If you don’t want Henry in here, just say the word and I’ll tell Jilly.”
“Are you kidding? He’s always welcome. Although I will say, he’s a little devil. He ate half the scone Edna packed for me.”
Owen raised his dark brows. “Only half? Generous of him to leave you some.” He smiled. “Henry keeps us all on our toes. Tracey—Jilly’s mom—she bred these dogs.” He removed his sandwich and unwrapped it. “She also handled them for other owners in shows. Can’t figure out how she ever got them to listen. Henry’s mind is definitely his own.”
“He’s adorable and loves Jilly.”
Owen took a healthy bite of his sandwich, nodding at her as he did. He chewed, and swallowed. “That was the only reason I agreed to keep him.”
Willow had only seen Owen exhibit warmth toward the cordial canine. “You sure it’s the only one?”
He grinned. “Don’t you dare tell a soul. Better my daughter think Henry walks on thin ice with me
. It’ll keep her more vigilant about making him mind his manners.”
“I won’t say a word.” Willow sensed that dog could do anything and Owen wouldn’t separate the two of them. “Tell me how you got into the travel business.”
While they ate their sandwiches, he told her how a semester in college spent in Italy made him fall in love with the idea of a career in the travel business. Willow loved listening to him talk about the places he’d seen, people he’d met. His dark eyes sparkled with passion, proof of his love for the work he used to do.
Owen reached into his bag and removed a candy bar, the same type he’d eaten on the train.
“Is that your favorite?” she asked.
As he tore off the paper, he looked up. “Jilly’s favorite and they’ve become mine. Why?”
“You ate one on the train when we first met.”
“Good memory.” After splitting the bar in half, he leaned forward and stretched one half to her. “Here. Try it.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Sure you should. Look.” He pointed to the inside of the treat. “This has two layers. Crispy cereal bits on the bottom and fluffy nougat on the top. Then it’s coated in Cadbury chocolate.”
“It’s tempting…” She patted her gut, reminded about the last number on the scale. “I’ve been eating a lot since I got here so probably sh—”
“Come on, Rosebud. You look perfect and should enjoy eating when traveling. It’s one of my travel rules.” He placed the bar on the lunch bag in front of her. “Now eat it or you’ll insult me.” He grinned as he took a bite from his.
She looked perfect? When had anybody last said that to her? Even if someone had, she wouldn’t have believed them. But Owen’s kindness seemed genuine, so she kept her resistance to herself.
“One bite.” She lifted the bar and brought it to her mouth. The slightly warm chocolate and nougat melted against her tongue as she chewed. She took a second bite and moaned. “Oh yes. This is very good.”
Owen leaned back and threw an arm over the back of his chair, a satisfied smile on his lips. “See. What’d I tell you?”
Willow's Way Page 8
