Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast

by Lilly Mirren

  Chapter 9

  Emily

  The hum of the silent alarm on her watch as it vibrated against her wrist woke Emily from a deep sleep. She slapped at the watch, found the button on one side, and pressed it in, stopping the incessant buzzing. Her heart rate slowed as she lay on her back, staring at the dark ceiling above.

  It never got very cold in Cabarita, but as a result there was no heating system installed in the Manor and the winter mornings were hard to face. The covers were pulled up to her chin and she shivered at the thought of moving them and climbing from bed in her stockinged feet. Clambering from the cozy warmth of her bed into the frigid darkness of early mornings was something Emily still hadn’t gotten used to after only two weeks of working there.

  In the past, she’d worked at restaurants which generally meant late nights and sleep ins. She hadn’t seen a sunrise in years, but in the past two weeks she’d seen every single one. Since, after the first few days in her new routine, she hadn’t been able to sleep late. Regardless of that fact, it still felt like a punch to the gut every time her alarm woke her.

  With a grimace she pushed down the covers, swung her feet to the floor, and padded to the bathroom, pulling her dressing gown over her arms, and cinching it at her waist. By the time she’d sat on the toilet, her teeth were chattering, and her body filled with a dull ache. She rubbed her eyes, still bleary with sleep and yawned.

  Would she ever get used to waking before dawn?

  There was so much to do before the guests came down to breakfast. And this morning was her first time doing it alone. Diana and Rupert had moved out of the Manor the day before, leaving her and Ethan to run the place. She’d helped transfer their things to their new home and found it to be quaint, well-equipped, and cheerful. The retirement community was set on the side of a gently sloping hill that looked down over Emerald Beach. They could walk there, and to the main street for croissants, coffee, or anything else they needed. It was the perfect set up for them, and Emily found her throat tightened when she waved goodbye, as a swell of emotion surprised her.

  She’d grown used to having them in the Manor with her, a family — smiling faces to cheer her on as she learned the ropes. Now, they were gone, and she was on her own. They hadn’t moved far though, as Diana kept reminding her. Still, she was alone again — a state she was accustomed to, but which left an empty feeling in her gut that ached a little.

  She’d hardly seen Ethan over the past two weeks, he’d spent most of his time in the garden or fixing things around the Manor. And that suited her fine. Every time she saw him her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and irritation buzzed in her chest, along with a pang of shame. She couldn’t shake the memory of the last time they’d seen each other as teenagers.

  After showering and dressing, she got to work in the kitchen making breakfast for their two guests. It seemed bizarre to put in so much effort into making a meal for only two people. And with so many bedrooms in the Manor unoccupied one the first things she wanted to work on was improve occupancy rates. If she didn’t do that soon, she and Ethan wouldn’t be able to pay the bills, let alone draw an income to live on.

  The first thing she did was flick on the overhead fluorescent lights. The kitchen sprang into sharp relief against the darkness that hovered outside its windows and in the living areas. She went throughout the ground floor, flicking on lamps to give some light in case her guests were early risers. Then, she set a fire going in the hearth, piling logs on top of a starter, and lighting it with a piece of rumpled newspaper. When the flames crackled and rose, she straightened with a satisfied smile then returned to the kitchen.

  She pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, along with bacon, fresh baby spinach and butter. She was making eggs benedict, one of her favourite breakfasts — it was always a crowd pleaser. The joy of putting together dishes of her choosing washed over her as she got to work. No matter how difficult the days ahead would be, she was filled with a sense of hope and gratitude that she got to work at the Manor, a place that’d always held a bit of romantic mystique to her. And she was able to cook for people again, which was her favourite thing to do.

  Before she cooked the eggs, she pulled two pans of bread dough that’d risen the previous day from the fridge, set them on top of the stove and preheated the oven. Fresh sourdough bread with eggs — her stomach grumbled in anticipation.

  She boiled the kettle and made herself a cup of tea, took a sip even as her stiff fingers warmed around the mug. The steam tickled her nose and with another sip she set it down and pushed the bread into the oven.

  Just as she was about to get started on the hollandaise sauce, the back door opened, and Ethan Flannigan strode in. He trekked past her, wearing board shorts and a hoodie, along with a pair of work boots with mud covered soles, and sat at the kitchen table with a grunt.

  “Morning,” he said, smiling so that the dimple in his cheek flashed.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she pressed her hands to her hips. “Good morning, Ethan. Could I trouble you to leave your boots at the door? You’ve scattered mud and dirt across the entire floor.”

  His eyes widened and he scanned the path he’d taken through the kitchen. “Ah… sorry. Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up.”

  She turned her back and searched for a whisk in one of the drawers. Finding her way around the kitchen, discovering where everything was, would take some time. She located it, then went looking for a bowl. It’d been so much simpler with Diana there to help.

  When she glanced his way again, she saw him sweeping up the trail of dirt he’d left behind in stockinged feet. She inhaled a slow breath. She could do this.

  The bowl located, she cracked and separated eggs, her thoughts wandering to the list of things she had to do that morning. She was doing her best to ignore the man helping himself to a cup of coffee in her kitchen, getting in her way when she had a breakfast to prepare. His very presence was irritating enough, his silence maddening.

  “So, first day on your own, huh?” he said, leaning against the bench to sip his coffee.

  She glanced at him, a tight smile on her lips. “Yep. That’s right.”

  She needed the butter, which was on the bench behind him. With a deep breath, she stepped close, leaned around him, and closed her hand over it. When she glanced up, he was watching her with laughter dancing in his hazel eyes. Was he mocking her? She could feel the heat from his body on hers. A tingle ran up her spine.

  She snatched the butter away and carried it to the stove. “Is there something I can help you with?” She hadn’t meant to sound so rude, so abrupt, but somehow, he brought that out in her. He’d always been so perfect, the suave, handsome surfer who everyone adored, and she’d been the awkward, quiet outsider no one noticed. It irritated her to think that he might still see her that way, that he knew what she’d been like all those years ago. She’d worked hard to bury that part of her in the past, to move on and become someone confident, outgoing, successful — although it felt more and more like she was failing in every regard. Especially when she saw Ethan.

  He pushed away from the bench and returned to the table where he promptly sat and put his feet up on a chair. She swallowed the urge to say something.

  “Sorry, I hope I’m not getting in your way.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic. Either way, regret for her brusque words washed over her. He was her business partner, so she’d have to make more of an effort to get along with him. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong and seemed to be trying his best. It wasn’t his fault he rubbed her the wrong way. “It’s fine.”

  “Not a morning person, huh?”

  She pressed her lips together, swallowing the retort that rose to her lips. Then, faced him with a shake of her head. “No, not really. I’ll get used to it; I suppose.”

  “I love mornings, I’ve been for a surf down at the point. Ah… it’s a beautiful day.”

  “You surfed in the dark?” She glanced o
utside, surprised to see the sky was orange with pink accents around the edges.

  He chuckled. “It wasn’t completely dark. There was a bit of light. And anyway, it’s the best part of the day. Got to see the sunrise from the beach before I went it… spectacular. I’ve missed seeing it for a while. Glad to be back home again.” His sigh was filled with a contentment Emily envied.

  “Yes… well some of us were working.” Her words sounded cold, harsh, even to her own ears. She shuddered inside. What was wrong with her? This wasn’t how she spoke to people?

  He downed the rest of his coffee, then carried his cup to the sink to rinse in silence. When he was done, he stepped close to where she was melting butter in the pan on the stove. “Is everything okay?”

  He leaned in, sending a flush of warmth across her cheeks. Why did he have to stand so close?

  She swallowed. “Yep. Fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem tense. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Her brow furrowed. “No… thank you.”

  He chuckled, a deep resonant sound that irritated her more than anything else he’d done that morning. He was laughing at her. Again.

  “I hope your day improves,” he whispered close to her ear. Then louder. “See you later.”

  He strode away, picking up his boots on his way to the back door. The door swung shut behind him, and he was gone.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, a deep, sigh that filled her lungs and let go of the tension in her shoulders and neck. She worked her head from one side, to the other, stretching her neck, the pain radiating through the muscles on either side.

  When was the last time she’d been this tense, this stressed? It was a lot of responsibility, taking on the Manor, along with all of its bills, its grounds, the guests, or lack of them. What had her aunt and uncle been thinking?

  What made them believe she could do this? Had they even considered that she might fail? And then, throwing Ethan into the mix — they must’ve been out of their minds. It would never work between them. He irritated her, and to him she was nothing more than an amusement. They should’ve sold the entire thing to an investor rather than dividing it between her and Ethan.

  Emily glanced at the clock on the wall, its quiet ticking a constant backdrop to the quiet in the kitchen. It was time to poach the eggs as the guests would be down soon, and the bread would be ready as well.

  By the time she had everything prepared and had carried it in silver chafing dishes to the dining room, the guests appeared at the bottom of the steps and wandered in.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  They nodded their hellos and set about serving themselves from the small buffet she’d set up. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the room, along with the warmth from the fireplace. She stood beside the espresso machine and took orders from both guests, before retreating to the kitchen to clean up. As she walked away, an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction filled her heart. She’d done it, served her first breakfast at the Manor alone and so far, it seemed the guests were happy with everything. All it would take for more guests would be for her to increase the amount of food, and that wouldn’t take much more effort. Maybe she could do this after all.

  Chapter 10

  Ethan

  The words on the page weren’t drawing him in like they usually did. Something was distracting him from the thriller in his hands. Ethan folded it shut and set the book on the bedside table. His hair, still damp from the shower, fell onto his forehead and he swept it back with one hand.

  Something was bothering him.

  Or someone.

  It was her. Emily Jones. She’d gotten under his skin. He’d vowed to himself while he was out riding waves that morning, that he wouldn’t let her. They had a business relationship, and from his point of view he intended on owning his share of the Manor long term. Which meant he had to get along with her, at least well enough to maintain their professional relationship. He had no idea what he’d done to upset her, or perhaps she was like that with everyone — bristling, abrupt, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. Never mind, he’d managed difficult people before, and he could manage her as well. He had to dig deep for that charm he kept for the most challenging clients, it never failed. Only this time, he had a hunch it might not work the way it usually did.

  With a grunt he got out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. His muscles ached from the long day. His body still wasn’t used to surfing on a daily basis and coupled with the physical labour he was doing at the Manor and in building the dining table in the backyard, every part of him hurt. Including the base of his spine where something seemed to be pinched and twinged with almost every step he took.

  He spent a few minutes stretching his muscles and his back on the carpet. Then, wandered out to the kitchen, where the scent of Italian food beckoned. His stomach rumbled, and he licked his lips when he saw a basket of garlic bread on the bench. One look in the oven, revealed two cheesy lasagnes. He swallowed hard.

  “Smells delicious mum. Are you cooking for a crowd, or for leftovers?”

  Cindy grinned, as she sliced tomatoes. “I’ve invited a few people to dinner.”

  “Oh?” He reached for a piece of garlic bread, and she slapped his hand away.

  “It’s almost time to eat, you can wait… I’ve invited Athol, as well as Sarah and Mick.”

  “That’s good, I’m looking forward to seeing Sarah. I haven’t seen much of her or Mick since I’ve been back.”

  Cindy nodded. “That’s what I thought. Time for a family catch up. And I invited Emily as well.”

  His stomach fell. “What? Emily Jones from next door? Why would you invite her?”

  Cindy shot him a sharp look that only a mother can give her son. “She’s on her own in a new town, she’s our neighbour and your business partner. That’s three reasons why. The fourth is that she’s my best friend’s niece. Do you need more?”

  He shook his head, pursed his lips. “Fine. But I wish you’d spoken to me first about it.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

  “It’s okay. I’ve had a long day, that’s all. I’m not looking forward to making small talk over dinner.”

  Cindy smiled. “Oh you poor boy.”

  “I guess I can manage,” he grumbled as he carried the garlic bread to the dining table.

  “What was that?” Cindy called after him.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  Athol arrived a few minutes later, let himself in and patted Petal on the head before she started barking. He shook Ethan’s hand, his blue eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Good to see you again, Ethan. I hope that bed and breakfast of yours is going well — I’ve always loved that place. Beautiful old building and fantastic gardens. It’ll be a lot of work to keep it all going.”

  Ethan nodded. “It’s good, so far anyway. I’ve been fixing things here and there and keeping the garden maintained. It’ll be a lot more work in the warmer months, for now I’m figuring my way around the place. But I know what you mean - it’s always been a bit magical over there. Something special about it, that’s why I jumped at the chance to invest.”

  Athol sat in an armchair. “That’s good to hear.”

  Cindy carried a platter of nibbles into the room and set them on the table in front of Athol. “There you go,” she said.

  Athol smiled at her, she smiled back, and Ethan watched with interest as a flicker of something passed between them. Was something going on between his mother and their oldest family friend? Surely not. He shook his head, dismissed the thought, and reached for an olive.

  “Hello family!” called Sarah from the hallway.

  Ethan stood to greet her with a hug, then shook Mick’s hand.

  “Hello you two. I move back to your town and have barely seen you, sis. What’s going on?” he chuckled, punching her gently on the shoulder.

  She grinned. “I’ve been b
usy. Sounds like you have been as well.”

  “Not too bad. Went for a lovely surf at the point this morning. Made me think of all those times we surfed together years ago.”

  She nodded. “Those were the days. Hey, let me know ahead of time and I’ll join you next time.”

  They sat on the various couches and chairs in the living room and soon caught up on everything going on in each other’s lives.

  “And how’s Vicky?” Ethan asked Sarah when the others retreated to the kitchen in search of drinks.

  Vicky and Sarah had been friends since childhood and had rekindled their friendship when Sarah moved back to Emerald Cove.

  “She’s good, some kind of health issues which she assures me aren’t serious. I don’t know… I worry. But otherwise good. She’s an amazing vet, which is still hard for me to wrap my head around considering I used to chase her around with frogs and she’d squeal her head off.”

  Ethan laughed. “Well that’s good to hear.”

  “My other friend, Meg is going through something difficult. Do you remember her? She married Brad Taylor?”

  He nodded. “Oh yeah, I know who you mean. Red curls. Cute smile. She moved away for a while, didn’t she?”

  “That’s right. She’s been having a tough time, you know, since the accident.”

  “I’ll bet.” He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “I was really sorry to hear about Brad. I’ve called him a few times, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk.”

  “He’s struggling with his paralysis, of course. It’s hard for him to accept he’ll never be the international surfing champion he was. But it’s also hard on Meg — she’s working long hours, trying to manage everything including Brad’s mood swings. I feel bad for her. Anyway, Vicky and I have been doing our best to support her. Vicky’s been a rock for her, so I haven’t seen as much of Vicky lately as I’d like, but I’m glad she can be there for Meg.”