Hunter seems surprised by the question. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“Because Rhea said—”
I cut Nathan off. “I just keep hearing that folks didn’t like her, is all.”
Hunter gives me a very peculiar look that I can’t quite decipher. “Wait. Aren’t you renting her apartment? Why are you at the inn?”
Because I locked my grandmother in there to punish her for dragging me out to the boonies and dumping me with a shitty inheritance,I want to say but can’t.
“I’m moving in there, but I’d already reserved a room here for the first night. The bathtub and breakfast were worth it.” I give Nick and Nathan my most grateful smile, hoping a bit of praise will mean we can stop with the gossip and neither of them will bring up the fact that Maggie was my grandmother. If Hunter’s grandmother hates my grandmother, we might be forced into a Hatfield-and-McCoy situation, and I still want to see that vineyard.
Nathan enters the room and hands Hunter a to-go cup. “We were just telling Rhea that—”
I cut Nathan off again. “They were telling me that most of Maggie’s properties are a wreck. That she couldn’t rent ’em out if she tried.”
“She had Cisco run some quotes for her to get them in shape once.” Hunter chuckles. “When she saw the estimate, she just about had a stroke.”
“Yeah, I hear she didn’t have much money, outside of the properties,” I press.
“I wouldn’t know. She certainly…” A thoughtful pause. His phone pings. He looks down, frowns. “Kept her secrets.”
“Do you know why she and your grandmother hated each other?”
Hunter gives me a probing stare. “Something that happened along time ago. Maggie—” He abruptly stops speaking and shakes his head. “I’ll text you later, okay?” With a warm nod, he heads out.
Nathan snatches up my empty coffee mug and heads back to his magical machine, but Nick pulls out a chair and sits at the table beside me.
“Hunter’s going to text you, hmm?” Nathan sings from the other room.
I focus on my biscuit and mumble, “Maybe.”
Nick taps the table. “But he doesn’t know Maggie was your grandmother? You didn’t tell him.”
My cheeks are hot, my mouth dry with biscuit crumbs that I have to choke down before I can speak. “Okay, Dr. Phil. I didn’t tell him because I want him to text me, and he might not, if his grandmother thinks I’m a bad seed or something.”
“Rhea, lies are not a great way to start a relationship.” He says it gently but knowingly.
“Tell me about it.”
It’s too bad we can’t discuss Maggie’s current situation.
Or maybe we can.
“Do you guys know about—Grrrk!”
“You are not choking on my biscuit, because my biscuits are not dry.” Nathan puts another drink down in front of me. “And if you are choking on something else, you’d best stop it right now.”
I take a hasty sip of the latte. Maggie said the magic would not be spoken, but I didn’t know it was going to be so literal. Apparently, Nick and Nathan do not, in fact, know about magic.
“Look, I just got here yesterday,” I tell them. “I have to find someone with great credit who wants to pay me money to rent out an apartment that looks like Stevie Nicks’s dressing room while they run a video store that is older than Stevie Nicks. Andthe only thing giving me any hope at all is the thought that for one beautiful night, I might get to sit outside and watch the sunset with that pretty man while I drink some nice Moscato before driving back to my boring old life in Alabama with my annoying pet cockatoo.” I snort. “A video store. Why’d it have to be a video store?”
“But, Rhea,” Nick says, excited. “It doesn’t have to be a video store. You can turn it into whatever you want. There are all sorts of needs that aren’t being met downtown.”
“Oh my God!” Nathan calls from the kitchen. “Think of all the possibilities. We haven’t had anything new in ages. All the shops are a million years old, and nothing ever comes up for sale or lease—nothing in good condition, at least. Most of the business owners are at least sixty. The Chamber mixers are so depressing.”
Nick scoots his chair closer, and I can see now that he’s one of those people who absolutely loves a good dream—or maybe a good story.
“I’m being very serious. You have a functional storefront in an up-and-coming tourist area. We don’t need another general store or tchotchke shop, but I swear, this square has excellent foot traffic and a dedicated Chamber of Commerce that would love a new venture to support. So let’s see.” He leans back, grinning. “A bar would make the most money, hands down. We have MacGillicuddy’s and the pizza place, but no actual, dedicated bar.”
