The wood-paneled walls of Montressa’s conference room made a fantastic, rustic television backdrop. The pine boughs swaying outside the picture window almost resembled a digitally generated background.
“Did anyone hear what Miles said?” co-anchor Victoria Evans asked. “I was busy waiting for a moose to pass by.”
Every question from theBright and Earlyhosts had been about Maine, not debt. He hoped Avery watched and promised himself to do as Lily asked and be nice today. Getting along meant not repeating the emotional nails on a chalkboard of the dock and avoiding another Google incident, though he’d been flattered she’d peeked into his life.
In anticipation of Nate’s virtual staff meeting, Miles traded his sport coat for a gray tee and navy cotton fisherman sweater. He expected Nate to put him in charge, and the local staff wouldn’t want a Manhattan suit running the resort. Avery had always loved running her hands over his soft clothing. With any luck, she wouldn’t be able to resist this silky-smooth cotton sweater. A day ago, she hadn’t reacted to “classic Miles” the way Anna Catherine had promised.
He had a couple minutes to turn this remote television studio back into the lodge conference room. He put his ring light back in its shipping box and placed it in the corner for next time, logged into the Zoom meeting, and connected to the wall-mounted speaker bar and camera so Nate could see everyone. The housekeeping and maintenance staffs rarely used computers, and coming to the conference room was easier than logging on. They’d arrive any minute.
Miles placed the molasses cookies he’d brought from Napolitano’s on a plate borrowed from Montressa’s kitchen and set them at the end of the long table. He put the box of counter samples on the table as a reminder to give them to Wes, who was replacing Montressa’s waterfront steps today.Wes had texted last night saying if Miles didn’t make a choice today, he’d have to wait until September to install the counters. The current frontrunner was a sleek black granite, but before his decision was literally set in stone, Miles wanted to be sure. He sat down, opened a bottle of chocolate milk, and went through the samples while he waited.
Avery arrived first, Casper hot on her heels. She placed her tea, a black Sakura Pigma Micron pen, a couple of blank pieces of paper, and a tube of mint lip balm on the table in a neat line. Anna was right. Minor details conjured up major memories. That brand of lip balm, with its distinctive green tube, always made him think of Avery. Which happened a lot because a box of it sat at nearly every CVS checkout counter.
“Ooh, samples. What are these for?” Avery dug through the box of granite tiles as Casper slumped to the floor.
“My kitchen. These are my cabinets and the floors are walnut.” He plunked the red cabinet paint swatch on the table, hoping the samples would entice her to come see the Red House or at least help him pick the right granite. “Wes is on my case. I have to pick countertops today. What do you think? Black soapstone?”
“Mimi says red and black looks like the Devil’s lair,” she said, rearranging the tiles.
He took a sip of his chocolate milk. Dante’sInfernowas not the vibe he wanted in his kitchen.
“How is Mimi?” He smiled at the memory of Avery’s grandmother’s visit to Montressa ten summers ago. She’d charmed everyone at cocktail hour, holding court on the front porch, wearing a colorful caftan while sipping on dirty martinis. Mimi had found Miles so charming she’d bought Avery a box of condoms and attempted to give herthe talk.
“She passed away last year,” Avery said. “I miss her.”
“I’m sorry.” Miles knew that pain and wished he could take hers away. “She’s with your Grandpa Banks now. What’d she call him? Her ‘kismet mate?’”
“She mashed both words together. They were kis-mates.” Avery let out a contented sigh. “I can’t believe you remember.”
“I remember a lot of things.”
For a quiet moment, neither one looked away. Miles recalled Mimi explaining this phenomenon. A kis-mate eclipsed a soulmate. It was your one true kindred spirit. An elevated love pulling you both toward a shared destiny warmer than the sun and just as bright. Kis-mates were rarer than rare. Miles wasn’t sure he’d ever know a love like that. The closest he’d come had been with Avery, but who knew what lovewas at twenty-two? He wasn’t sure he knew now. Avery twisted her lips, as if pondering something too. And wow, her irises were the same emerald green as her sweater. He used to tell her what color her eyes were and wondered if her jilted fiancé had noticed the tiny, beautiful things that no one else mentioned.
She might have read his thoughts, because Avery broke the stare. She turned her attention to the box on the table.
“Ooh, look at this.” She pulled out the white granite with gold veining. Miles sat up straighter. If his dreams ever came true, they’d share a kitchen one day, and he wanted her to love every inch of the Red House.
She traced a finger along the veining of the granite. “I love the gold flecks in this one. Contrasted with the red cabinets and walnut floors, it’ll brighten the space. If you want stunning, this is it.”
Miles returned the samples to the box and laid the white one on top because once an Avery-approved option existed, nothing else would do.
“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t wait to cook you dinner in my new kitchen.”
When her face fell flat, he wished he could take it back.
“Because we’re friends.” He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
“We were never friends, Miles. Friends call or text each other,” she said. “I helped because my conscience can’t allow that precious A-frameto be possessed by the literal kitchen from Hell, regardless of its occupant. The Red House deserves better.”
Ouch. He placed the sample box on an empty chair and leaned across the table, resting on his elbows.
“I like to think we could be friends,” he said. “Friends who forgive one another.”
She picked up her pen and let out a frustrated groan.
Miles echoed her groan. Everything became about something else with her. The countertops now bore the burden of their combined history.
“Nate is taking forever to join this Zoom,” she groused. “And where’s the staff for this staff meeting?”
