So here she was, with a daily catch-up call that left her counting down the minutes until it would be over. Which was never something that she’d done before.
Still, if she didn’t answer the phone in another second, she’d miss the call. Putting her own feelings aside, she wouldn’t dothat to her parents. She took a quick look in the mirror before pressing the answer button and took a deep breath.
“Good morning,” she answered chipperly, walking out of her bedroom and heading down the hall. She had no idea how long her dad had for her on what could be a busy Monday morning, so it was better for her to already be at the desk in case their conversation ran long.
It was a mixed bag when it came to her parents. Her dad could have early meetings and be putting in a FaceTime call just to see her, or he could be driving to meet with someone, at which point, he could have an hour or more in the car to shoot the breeze about anything. The Red Sox. South Boston. Every agonizing detail about Brynn’s life, for which he never left any stone unturned.
This was her cross to bear, given that she hadn’t pushed back on it when her parents had suggested this time a few days ago, when she was still getting settled into a rhythm at The Stone’s Throw. Until then, her parents had been calling her at random times when she couldn’t answer, which had led to more than a few frazzled texts and follow-up calls as they’d grown concerned for her safety.
Which was laughable, considering that Stoneport was probably one of the safest places in Massachusetts, if not the country. The biggest danger here was death by coastal kitsch.
What she really didn’t want happening was her dad reaching out to Reese to try and keep tabs on her, which would only make Reese’s life harder. At the very least, it would negate the convenience that Brynn helping out was supposed to provide.
Her dad’s face came into view—or, better yet, his forehead and the top of his right eye, like he was looking through a magnifying glass and needed to get as close to her as possible. “Hi, honey. How are things going?”
She’d survived her first week, though, and today, she’d be handling the morning checkouts on her own. “It’s going well. I think that Hallie’s pleased with my progress.”
Peace of mind for her parents was a small price to pay for the ability to wholly throw herself into what was becoming a great distraction. There was no shortage of things to do daily, new processes to learn and people to meet. She wasn’t so great at the people part yet, but she was trying her best.
And Hallie was making it all feel surprisingly manageable. This was another thing Brynn was grateful for, even if Hallie’s connection to her old life didn’t exactly make it easy to put Grant on the back burner.
But, like she kept telling herself, that wasn’t Hallie’s fault. Brynn had decided to come to Stoneport to help Reese, knowing that constant reminders of her failed engagement were highly likely.
One thing that she did already appreciate was that Hallie didn’t look at her with pity or like she was some wounded animal. Instead, she looked at Brynn like, well, Brynn wasn’t exactly sure what the look was meant to convey. Only that it didn’t make Brynn feel like she’d done something wrong by not realizing who Grant really was earlier.
She liked that feeling a lot, even if she didn’t quite understand it.
“You really are incredible, honey.” She could hear the love soaked into her dad’s voice, even as she’d put the phone down on the check-in desk to get situated. Stan Fitzpatrick, in almost every area of his life, wore his heart on his sleeve.
“One sec, Dad.” She walked out of frame, desperate for a caffeine fix.
She reminded herself as she poured from the metal carafe that was already set up for breakfast that, at the root of her parents’ prodding and overbearing affection, they loved her andmissed her. At least this way, she had some physical distance from their enthusiastic—for lack of a better word—parenting, even if she still felt as emotionally entangled with them as ever.
The idea of telling them that she needed somespacewas inconceivable and, honestly, made her feel a little physically ill. It would break their hearts, even if they’d comply with her request. At least to the best of their abilities. But no, she couldn’t do that. Instead, she lightened her voice and came back into view with a cup of coffee in hand. “I’m pretty sure that I could tell you I counted to ten, and you’d throw me a parade.”
His response was swift. “No win is too small to celebrate.”
“So, what’s on your agenda for today?” she asked, trying to move the conversation’s focus away from her. It was a fruitless endeavor most days, but she was still committed to trying.
She could tell from the stationary view from her dad’s video that he was still in her parents’ Boston brownstone. “Reese and I are meeting later. Did she mention it?”
Brynn rolled her eyes affectionately. “No. Reese, the founder of a real estate group, did not mention to me, a front desk worker at one of her properties, that she was having lunch with Stan Fitzpatrick, head of The Fitz Group.”
“I thought you said you’ve seen her since you’ve been in town.” His brows furrowed, and she bit her lip in response, realizing her mistake.
She’d told her dad that she’d gone to dinner at Reese’s house a few times over the last week. That was a lie, one of the first that she’d ever told to her parents and one that she definitely should have run by Reese first. She tried not to beat herself up about it. Who wanted to explain to someone that they, a twenty-six-year-old, were avoiding their parents?
Now that she was thinking about it, she should have told them that she was hanging out with Hallie. They didn’t know her, and they wouldn’t have been able to verify her story.
Plus, she had a sneaking suspicion that Hallie could be a lot of fun. Maybe one day she’d get to find out for herself.
“Dad, we have other things besides her business to talk about,” she said, adjusting in the tall swivel stool behind the counter so that she didn’t need to make eye contact. At least one of the perks of being thought of as an honest person was that if she abused it, no one was the wiser.
She groaned silently and ran a hand through her hair. This was getting out of control, but the relief in solitude was still too enticing to come clean. Her parents could think that she was being adored and included in Stoneport, which would placate them from an impromptu visit—at least until Christmas.
The reality of her first week in town was that, after finishing her shift each night, she’d sit in her hotel room and gorge herself on copious amounts of delivery while watching a wide variety of trashy television.
It wasperfect.
