The Inn at Holiday Bay Books 7 - 9

by Kathi Daley

  “So, have we done it?” Georgia chuckled. “Have we actually convinced ourselves that having almost three weeks with no reservations is a good thing?”

  I smiled in response. “You know, I think we have. But we still have tonight and tomorrow to get through. Who do we have arriving?”

  “A photojournalist named Willa is checking into the suite vacated by the Trenton’s for just two nights, and that young couple from Oregon checked into the suite vacated by Mark Westgate late last evening,” Georgia answered. “Christy and Haley, as well as Mylie and Riley, are still here, and the room Andrew was staying in is unoccupied. I have to admit I am a bit surprised that things did not work out for Mylie and Andrew. He seemed perfect on paper, but I guess that love can’t be calculated or planned, it just has to happen.”

  “I feel bad that Mylie didn’t find her soulmate, but she does seem excited about her trip to Prague with Riley. She insists they are just friends, and she is going to continue her search for a husband when she gets back from her trip, but I won’t be at all surprised if they end up together.”

  “They do have spark,” Georgia agreed. “And while Mylie claims not to have fallen in love, she did say that the Inn at Holiday Bay really is the perfect place to fall in love. Maybe we can use that in our marketing.”

  “Maybe we can,” I smiled. “We do have a very romantic setting, and thanks to the fact that Mark decided on the lakefront resort I suggested, the setting is going to remain romantic into the future. Maybe we can do a couples’ week at some point. We can offer couples’ massage, champagne at sunset, carriage rides after dark.”

  “Sounds like a magical idea,” Georgia agreed.

  I curled my legs under my body as Rufus climbed onto my lap. I supposed I should go in and get dressed, but lounging around on New Year’s Eve morning seemed like a good plan, given the late night Georgia and I had planned.

  “What time did you tell Tanner we’d be by?” I asked.

  “I told him around nine. I’m serving dinner at seven, and Jeremy offered to clean up. He’s planning on hanging around at the inn with Christy and Haley, Mylie and Riley, and the new guests who have checked in. I feel a little bad about not staying as well, but we’ve both been working hard, and a night with Tanner and Colt to kick off the new year sounded like the right move. Actually, I think Nikki is going to be at the inn as well. I’m sure they’ll have fun.”

  “They will, and I don’t think we’ll be needed,” I agreed.

  “I’m going to head over to the inn to see to breakfast,” Georgia announced. “The guests know we planned a late morning brunch, but I still need to get that brunch prepared.”

  After Georgia left, I poured myself a second cup of coffee. As much as I liked the loud and lively mornings at the inn, I felt like I needed a few minutes to review the past year in my mind and look forward to the new year that was just beyond the horizon. I’d actually considered jotting down a few resolutions when my phone rang.

  “Happy New Year, Kate,” I greeted my agent.

  “Happy New Year to you as well,” she responded.

  “Are you calling to see if I’ve totally forgotten about the novel I owe you?” I tried for a lighthearted voice but was actually worried that was exactly why she had called since I hadn’t worked on it since before Christmas.

  “Actually, no. I am planning a writers’ retreat for a group of new authors I recently signed with who are either working on polishing their first book or on getting that second book written after the first one has published. I had a house booked in Vermont for the week-long retreat, but there was a house fire this past week, and I need to find a new venue. I know the odds of you having all six of your rooms empty for a week in January are unlikely, but I’m desperate enough to ask.”

  “Actually, we do have openings from January third through the twenty-third. We planned to use the time to clean and stock supplies, but if you can work with those dates, I’m sure we can accommodate your writers.”

  I heard her let out a long breath of relief. “That is perfect. The group plans to assemble January twelfth through the eighteenth. I have seven writers plus a writing mentor who will be running the event, but several of the writers are attending as pairs who can room together, so six rooms will work great.”

  “Okay. I’ll block off the dates and send you our rate schedule. You can call me next week with the details.”

  “Perfect. And thank you, Abby. I really think your inn is going to be a lovely place for my retreat.”

  A writers’ retreat sounded fun. I’d attended one when I was just starting out and found the experience to be invaluable. A lot of new authors needed the extra help to get their second book written after the success of publishing the first, and spending time in a supportive environment with critique partners could be just the thing to get them over the hurdle.

  After I hung up, I walked over to the window and looked out at the bay. I loved this view so much that mere words could not express the contentment I experienced when I took in the endless sea, deserted shoreline, and thick forest that ran along the coastline as far as the eye could see. I’d initially thought it had been chance that brought me here, but the more time I spent here, the more certain I was that it was not chance but fate that had led me to the one place on earth where I’d find the solace I needed to mend my heart and feed my soul.

  The End

  The Inn at Holiday Bay:

  Blizzard in the Bay

  by

  Kathi Daley

  Chapter 1

  “Bali is nice this time of year.”

  “Really? Bali?” asked my best friend, business partner, and roommate, Georgia Carter. I could tell by the expression on her face that she’d pretty much decided that I’d lost my mind. Not that I blamed her. I had been acting out of character ever since I’d found out who was going to be occupying the last of our six guest rooms for the upcoming week.

  “What’s wrong with Bali?” I asked. “It’s warm, there’s no snow, and it is far away from here.”

  “The Abby Sullivan I know is a brave woman who faces things head-on and wouldn’t book a last-minute trip just to avoid a difficult situation.”

  “I have airline miles,” I said as if that would somehow make my insane response to an old colleague all that more rational.

  “He’s expecting you to be here. If you run away, he’ll know he’s gotten under your skin. Is that really what you want?”

  “No.” I sighed. “That isn’t what I want.” When Kate asked me if I’d be willing and able to host the writers’ retreat she’d planned but had lost her venue for, I was happy to help out. When she’d mentioned that she’d be sending along a bestselling author to mentor the new writers she’d recently signed, I was fine with it. When she mentioned, in passing, that the author she’d asked to mentor the retreat was none other than my old writing buddy, Dax Sherman, I pulled out my computer and began looking for vacation destinations.

  “I have a feeling there’s more of a story here than just the fact that you don’t like this guy,” Georgia continued.

  “I never said I didn’t like him.”

  “You’re looking at flights to Bali,” she pointed out.

  I stopped what I was doing and looked up. I leaned back in my chair, unwilling to admit even to myself the real reason I was looking at flights that would take me halfway around the world to escape coming face-to-face with Dax Sherman.

  “Abby?” Georgia asked again.

  I could see she wasn’t going to drop this, so I decided to answer. “I first met Dax during a writers’ gathering, much like the retreat we’ll be hosting at the inn. Kate invited me when I’d first signed on with her as a client. I remember being superexcited to attend and was working on my outlines and pitches for weeks. I was confident and well-prepared, and I was sure that I was going to be the one to really shine, but then I met Dax.”

  “And he was better than you?”

  “And how.” I groaned. “Not only was
he better than me in every conceivable way, but he made me feel like a toddler taking her first steps and falling flat on my face every time.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Was he smug and condescending?”

  “Not at all. He was actually very nice. He even offered to help me tighten up my manuscript.”

  Georgia paused. She got up and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a sip, leaned a hip on the counter, and then replied. “I’m not seeing the problem here. This guy sounds great.”

  I walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a hardbound book that said New York Times Best-Selling Author across the top. I turned it over so that the back book jacket was face up and handed it to her.

  She looked down at the cover, and her brows shot up. “Oh.”

  Dax Sherman was not only the best writer I’d ever read, but he was by far the best-looking author on the planet. In fact, he was quite possibly the best-looking man on the planet.

  “Were you already married to Ben when you met Dax?” Georgia asked, reading between the lines.

  “Engaged.”

  She set the book on the counter. “And did something happen between you and Dax during your week together?”

  I plopped myself down on the sofa and buried my face in my hands. “No. Nothing happened. Not really. Dax is a fantastic writer and a great guy. During our time together, he was kind and thoughtful, and he seemed to really want to help me. It’s just that …”

  “There was chemistry between you that you didn’t know how to deal with because you were engaged to another man.”

  Wow. She was good. “Exactly. Again, nothing happened. In fact, Dax was a perfect gentleman, and I’m sure we would have been great friends had I not started having these dreams about him. Very vivid and very inappropriate dreams. I needed to get him out of my head, so I decided to turn him into a rival I was determined to best. I guess I figured if I competed with him, I wouldn’t be attracted to him. If his book made number six on the list, I was determined that my next release would come in at number five.”

  “And did that work?” Georgia asked. “Did competing with him make you less attracted to him?”

  “No,” I cried as I laid my head down on the table in front of me.

  Georgia came around the counter and sat down next to me. “So you aren’t really running away from him, you’re running away from yourself.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Is he married?”

  I shook my head. “Divorced.”

  “So maybe there really isn’t a problem,” she said encouragingly.

  My head shot up. “Of course, there is a problem. The guy is sweet and thoughtful and gorgeous. We don’t need that sort of negative energy around here.”

  “You realize that makes no sense.”

  “I know.”

  “And you are single now,” she reminded me.

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Am I? I mean, yes, I suppose technically I am, but I can’t help but feel that I’m still married to Ben. Even having lusty thoughts now about the same guy I had lusty thought about while I was engaged to Ben makes me feel like I’m cheating on him. And then there’s Colt.”

  Georgia sat back on the sofa, tucking her legs up under her body. “Yes, I guess that much is true. You and Colt have been taking it slow, and so far, you’ve kept your relationship firmly in the friend zone, but I suppose there has been this unspoken understanding between the two of you that maybe someday when you are both ready, there could be something more.”

  “So, you think Bali is a good idea?”

  “No, I don’t think Bali is a good idea. It sounds like you have a connection to this guy. Maybe it’s real, and maybe it isn’t, but I do think you owe it to yourself to hang around and find out.”

  I tucked my lower lip into my mouth and clamped down hard. I wanted to argue that playing with fire was never a good idea, but maybe Georgia was right. I’d considered the possibility that the attraction I’d felt for Dax was somehow all wrapped up with his ability as a writer. Maybe if we spent some time together, I’d realize that the attraction I remembered was nothing more than a fantasy born out of admiration.

  “We’ve talked about the fact that you’ve been seriously thinking about taking the next step with Colt,” Georgia said. “Maybe not right away, but moving things along with him has been on your radar. Don’t you think it is in both your best interests to figure out if you are actually in love with this fantasy guy from your past, or if he was just some schoolgirl crush?”

  Georgia was making some good points, even if I didn’t want to hear them.

  “You can spend as much time or as little with Dax as you want,” she pointed out. “You have only offered Kate the inn, not your services as a mentor. If you find that being around this Dax is too much for you, you can take a break and hide out here in the cottage. You can tell everyone you are on a tight deadline and need to write, and no one will think anything of it. Staying here in Holiday Bay and facing your emotions might be a risk, but at least you’ll know.”

  “What if the attraction is still there?” I asked. “What if our eyes meet and birds begin to sing? What then?”

  “Then you should probably panic, because if your eyes meet and birds begin to sing, that probably means you’ve been transported into a Disney movie.”

  I smiled.

  “The attraction you felt for this guy. Was it mutual?” Georgia asked.

  “I think it was. Neither of us acted on it, but I could sense his interest.”

  “Have you ever regretted making the decision not to explore what was between you? I mean, you weren’t married yet.”

  I slowly moved my head from left to right. “I don’t regret suppressing my feelings and going home to Ben. We had a good life, and I cherish every minute of the time we had together. But making Dax into the bad guy might not have been fair to him. He didn’t know about Ben, and he didn’t actually do anything wrong.”

  “So, you weren’t wearing your ring at the retreat?”

  I shook my head. “The stone was loose, so I’d dropped it at the jeweler on my way out of town. When I introduced myself, I guess I forgot to mention that I was engaged.”

  “Forgot to mention or simply decided not to mention?”

  I put my hands over my face. “I honestly don’t know. I really am the worst person on the planet.”

  Georgia reached over and hugged me. “You aren’t the worst person on the planet. In fact, you’re the best person I know. You know I love you. You know I only want what is best for you. But I really think that this guy popping back into your life at precisely this time is destined somehow. You owe it to yourself to find out how you feel about each other. If you meet and birds sing, and you both feel the same way, then perhaps you should explore your relationship to see where it leads.”

  “I could get hurt.”

  “Yes, that is a possibility.”

  “I might hurt someone else. Colt. Or even Dax.”

  “You might.”

  “But you think I should stay here and face him anyway?”

  She nodded. “I do. I understood when you told me that you needed to work out your feelings about Ben’s death and your commitment to him before you were ready to move on, but it sounds to me like he isn’t the only relationship you need to work out your feelings about. If at some point you decide you want to take the next step with Colt, don’t you want to be sure that your heart is fully available for a relationship before you drag him into one?”

  I took a breath and let it out slowly. “Yes. I guess I do.” I closed the lid to my laptop. I supposed Bali could wait. I still wasn’t thrilled that Dax was going to be spending time at the inn that sat right across the drive from the cottage where I lived, but it might be good for me to finally put any lingering feelings I might have harbored for the guy to bed once and for all.

  “I think I’m going to take a walk along the bluff,” I informed Georgia. “I need to clear my head a bit.”

&
nbsp; “I’d offer to go along, but I have to head over to the studio to tape this week’s show.”

  Georgia had entered a cookie baking contest at Christmas, and while she had only placed second, she’d landed a role as a TV chef in a new show entitled Cooking with Georgia. She filmed once a week and was able to do her prep at the inn, so that commitment didn’t interfere with her job as the manager at the Inn at Holiday Bay.

  “What are you making this week?” I asked as she continued to gather supplies.

  “My hearty clam chowder. It seemed like a good option with the stormy weather we’ve been having. I hear we are in for a huge storm by the end of the week.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “I heard that as well. I hope all our guests get here before the snow blows in. I suppose if the storm is strong enough, they may even close the road to town.”

  “The writers are coming on Wednesday, and the storm isn’t supposed to hit until late on Thursday. I think the tough part might be for them to leave on Monday. The plow service has been dependable so far this year, so I think we should be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “By the way, what do you know about the other writers who are due to arrive?” Georgia asked.

  I was surprised Georgia hadn’t already called and interviewed everyone. She took her role as inn manager seriously and went out of her way to know something about all our guests. Of course, I had booked everyone this time because I’d worked directly with Kate, effectively taking Georgia out of the loop.

  “There are seven writers in addition to Dax planning to attend the retreat.”

  “So eight guests in all?”

  I nodded. “I put Dax in the attic suite when I did the room assignments. I figured that would give him the most privacy, plus he is young and healthy enough to handle the steep stairs from the third floor to the attic.”

  “Dax is in his thirties?”

  “I think late thirties or early forties. To be honest, I never asked him his age.”