Currently, it’s decorated with wreaths, boughs of holly, and bright-red blooms hung under the eaves of the first-floor balcony that spans the entire front. The porch itself is littered with ornaments and stylish decorations that make the space look like a winter wonderland. Which it kind of is, this time of year. The snow flanking the building and covering the grounds really sets it off.
Incredible.
I kill the engine and haul my ass inside, knowing the guys will be waiting for me. I can hear the steady thrum of powertools before I make it to the dining room. Helen, stationed at the reception desk, gives me a big smile and a wave. “Morning, Quinton, how did she go?”
Her blue eyes follow me as I wander past, heading for the dining room. “Better than her old man.” I give her a lopsided grin.
Helen sags against the desk with a sigh.
Is she okay? I hesitate for a second until crimson blooms over her cheeks and she excuses herself, turning away to busy herself with the computer at her desk.
Okay . . .
I see the guys hard at it the second I clear the double doors to the dining area. The space has been closed since we started, and as Miranda, the co-owner, likes to remind us all every afternoon, every day we take to revamp the old space, she is losing money.
I’m well aware of the difficulties of small business—currently running my own.
“Morning, boss man, almost done sanding. We’ll clean this up in an hour or so and get onto the finishes.”
“Great. Time is money, boys.”
They all roll their eyes at me.
Ronan, the eldest on our crew in his early forties, simply shakes his head. Caleb, our part-time guy who owns a legit reindeer farm, chuckles into his respirator mask and sends the sander back along the banister he’s working on. And then there’s Sebastian, the quiet, moody one of the group. He fires up the industrial vacuum and makes short work of the fine dust before rolling up our drop cloths behind him. Man of few words and one of the hardest workers I’ve ever had.
I make a start helping Seb, rolling out the cloths as he goes. Everyone does every job on my crew, no hierarchy and no special favors. If it has to be done, it gets done. Period.
We’re an hour into the work when my butt vibrates.
It takes a second to realize what on earth is going on. When Ronan tilts his head at me, eyes fixated on my ass, I realize what he’s trying to say over the noise.
My phone’s ringing.
Plucking it from my back pocket, I swipe the semi-familiar number and step outside, careful not to drop fine sanding dust over the inn’s foyer floor. “Hello?”
“Mr. MacKelvie?”
“Yup, speaking.”
“You will need to come and collect your daughter. There’s been an incident.”
Ah, fuck.
Chapter
Three
CELESTE
Istare in disbelief at the face I’ve known for most of my life. My mouth is gaping, that much I know, as I try my best to process the words that just left Marie’s lips.
“I’m leaving.”
“No, absolutely not.” My face is twisted, and I’m suddenly parched.
I cannot do this on my own.
She tilts her head with an empathetic smile. “You will be fine. Besides, I need this, CC. I need a break, maybe some time to find something in life just for me?”
