The glasses are designer.The smirk is practiced.And the way he moves—like the entire room should already know who he is—makes something familiar slide down my spine.
Just like Derek.
In Seattle, there’s a hundred different variations of him.
Different face.Same algorithm.
I can practically hear the LinkedIn headline:Visionary leader.Data-driven.Impossible to emotionally access without a blood sacrifice.
But then—he pauses halfway down, adjusting his glasses like he’s calibrating for clarity instead of ego, and his gaze finds mine through the office window.
It’s not smug.
It’s curious.
Blinking, he mouths: “Everything alright?”
I shoot him a thumbs up, returning to the phone."Look, Thelma and Louise, I have to go.I have a guest to?—"
“Pretend like you’re not dying to get laid by?”My little sister Claire’s tone is like melted butter.“We know it’s been a while.You barely talk to men.Last guy you ‘dated’ thought flossing was a personality trait.And don’t even get me started on Derek.Plus, you never meet people.”
“Dating is the last thing on my mind,” I exhale.“I’ve got a whole inn to take care of, unless you two forgot.And for the record, I meet people.All the time.”
"Goats don't count," Claire says.
From her pen in the office, Buttercup whines as if she's personally offended.
Luke is now standing near the fireplace, clearly trying to give me privacy while remaining close enough that Buttercup can make eyes at him through the office doorway.
“She has a point,” Harper adds.“And you’re deflecting.A classic Sage strategy when you’re in deep.”
“And speaking of deep…” Claire adds slyly.
“Do not finish that sentence,” I say into the phone, turning slightly away from Luke."I really do have to go.I'll call you back later."
"Don't you dare hang up on us," Harper starts, but I'm already disconnecting the call.
The phone immediately rings again.
I let it ring.
And ring.
I step out of the office and face an eyebrow-quirking Luke Sterling, who blinks.
"You can answer it.”He gazes at the office behind me.“I don't mind waiting."
“No, no.It’s just…Small town.Word travels fast."
"About furry, heat-seeking missiles like Buttercup?”
"About mysterious midnight visitors with blue eyes and billions.”
The phone stops ringing.For exactly thirty seconds.Then it starts again.
"This is going to continue all morning, isn't it?"I ask the universe.
As if in response, my cell phone starts buzzing on the desk.Then the inn's second line.Then what sounds suspiciously like a car pulling into the gravel parking lot.
