I froze with a stack of towels in my arms. "I'm preparing."
Kaya's mouth twitched. "You're preparing like the guests are the FBI."
"They're clients."
"They're hikers with money," she corrected, walking in and leaning against the doorframe. "They're here for horseback riding and fresh air and whatever Scottish people do for fun."
"Drink," I muttered.
Kaya nodded solemnly. "True."
I shoved the towels into the closet with more force than necessary. "I need everything to be perfect."
Kaya's expression softened. "Because if it's perfect, nothing can get in."
The words hit too close.
"Don't psychoanalyze me," I snapped.
Kaya lifted both hands. "I'm not. I'm just saying… you can't out-check life, Rose."
I stared at her. "I'm fine."
Kaya sighed like she'd heard that sentence too many times. "Okay. Then be fine and eat a sandwich."
"I don't have time."
"You have time," she said, stepping closer. "Your brain just likes the illusion of urgency because it keeps you from thinking."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it, because she wasn't wrong and I hated that.
"Fine," I muttered. "I'll eat."
Kaya nodded like she'd just won a war. "Good. Also, Denise texted. She's bringing over a binder of the guest itinerary and waivers."
Of course she was.
Denise loved binders. Denise loved systems. Denise loved anything that made it look like the ranch ran like a business and not like a one-woman anxiety project.
Kaya paused. "And Taylor's out by the cabins. Checking the routers or whatever."
A flicker of irritation sparked in my chest.
"I told her not my cabin," I said.
Kaya raised a brow. "Then maybe you should tell Taylor."
I stared at her.
She was right.
Kaya pushed off the doorframe. "Eat something," she said again, like it was a spell.
She left before I could say something too honest.
I grabbed a granola bar out of a welcome basket, because I was apparently the kind of woman who ate guest snacks.
The front door opened before I could take a bite.
