I grabbed a pen from the tray of mismatched pens, Post-its, and used batteries she kept on the counter, and motioned to her planner. “Can I?”
“Sure,” she said, tugging her shirt over her head and glancing at me through the collar.
I flipped open the hard-backed notebook. “If we start with cabins seven and eight, we might salvage some fall bookings.”
Ruby came to stand beside me. I inhaled the clean scent of her hair that drifted up to me. “The other six are booked, but they’re smaller. Couples mostly,” she explained. “And unlike families, they’re the first to walk out if they so much as smell paint or see a tarp on the ground. They won’t sip their wine with power tools drilling outside.”
“Then give them fair warning. Offer a discount. Anyone cancels, we’ll fill the gaps.”
Her head tilted up toward me. “We?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
She didn’t answer right away, just watched me for a beat. “I appreciate it, Sebastian. Really. But I know how to manage this.”
I slid onto the apple-green barstool beside the island where we’d had good breakfasts and great sex. “I know. That’s not what I’m saying.”
She looked away. “I was going to close for the season, keep the core staff, bring in a contractor who knows what he’s doing.”
“Or keep part of the place open—as long as we’re smart about the schedule. Cabins first, since they’re separate. Thenyou can phase the main building, but once the upstairs work starts, that’ll shut the whole thing down. We’ll have to time it carefully if you want any chance of reopening by Thanksgiving.”
She brought her gaze back to me. “What do you know about running a business?”
“Not much.” I smiled. She looked flushed, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the workout we’d just had or because she was getting angry at my butting in.
I took a chance she’d get really flustered when I added, “Okay. So at least hire the guy who said he’d bring an engineer if he brings the right one. Or I’ll do the damn calculations myself.”
She smiled. “Still bossy.”
“Still right,” I retorted.
“Still arrogant.”
“Still letting me do the math,” I shot back.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not. Even though you’re the only person who thinks it’s fun.” Then, under her breath, “You and Evangeline. God, you two can start a math club.” Evangeline was one of her three best friends, who, I was pretty sure, knew everything about me, including girth and veinage.
I could have told her right then that math was easy, but she was a variable I couldn’t solve.
“HEY, MUSCLES-FOR-BRAIN, I saw you did that on purpose! Watch it!” Ruby, two heads shorter and a footnarrower than the quarterback, glared at him as he kept walking and laughing with his friends.
“Did you hear me?” she called after him.
“I heard you, pizza face,” he called over his shoulder. “Lois Lane is saving Superman,” he added to his giggling friends.
“Come on. He’s not worth it,” I said, tugging her by the elbow. I admired her for not being afraid to talk back to that crowd, even though it was me he’d tried to trip.
“I hate him,” she muttered.
“Most girls have a crush on him.” I didn’t envy guys like that. All I wanted was to have someone to take to a school dance, or someone to call my girlfriend. But with a width that almost matched my height and permanent red cheeks, I had zero chance.
“If he asked me out, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But, yeah, I also hate his guts,” Ruby added as the sharp smell of the cafeteria hit us.
“You’d go out with someone like that?” I frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
“He’d never ask someone like me, so it’s not even a thing. But if he did, I’d have my way with him, then dump him faster than a pigeon dumps on my dad’s windshield.” Ruby flashed the shiniest metal-filled grin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
I laughed and bumped her shoulder with mine. “He’s worse than pigeon shit.”
