How am I going to fit all these people in? Vega’s staying at the hotel, along with Haven and some others. But there are still so many people here. I scan the lawn again, catching a glimpse of Banks chatting with a serious-looking woman close to his height. That must be Haven’s bodyguard. Wanda Rodriguez, I think he said. She won’t stay here. The lighting guys will though. Some added security too. Some PAs, the camera crew…
“Actually, how many are here?” I ask. “I was expecting five crew members staying at the homestead. Though I know The BookHouse and The Ladybug Inn have a lot of rooms reserved for the cast and others.”
I mean, I’m good at math. But I’m pretty sure no matter how you add it up, there aren’t enough rooms for everyone.
Tabitha tilts her head, that huge hat tilting with her as she taps her chin. “Well, with the added security and some additional crew, we need as many rooms as you have.”
Haven returns to my side with Hudson at her heels. She must read the concern in my eyes since she says, “What’s wrong, Rip?”
“Nothing.” I fasten on a smile. I don’t want to worry her.
“Liar.” She stares me down as Tabitha takes off to help the guy with the undercut. “What is it?” Haven asks when Tabitha’s out of earshot.
“There aren’t enough rooms,” I whisper.
Haven shrugs happily, then squeezes my hands. “You can stay with me. We’ll have sleepovers like we used to. It’ll be so fun. We can eat popcorn and watch movies.”
And she’ll have to get up early. And she’ll need her beauty sleep. And my sister has struggled with sleep since our parents died. In the aftermath of her grief, she battled insomnia and depression. The worse she slept, the worse her depression became. We tried everything to help her, from meds to therapy, but it wasn’t till we found a combination of meditation and the right therapist that she was able to finally sleep through the night again.
That was the first step on her road to recovery from the depression.
She needs her rest. And I also need to be here to take care of the farm. “No, you need your sleep.”
“Ripley,” she says, but there’s resignation in her voice. Sheknows I’m right. She sighs but then brightens in excitement. As the sound of shoes crunching on gravel grows louder, she says cheerily, “You can stay with grandma though.”
There’s a couch in my grandma’s garden suite, true. But I won’t use it. I shake my head. “I don’t want to bother her,” I say, then screw up the corner of my lips, thinking. How can I fix this problem quickly? That’s what I do. Solve problems.
And…I know. It’s obvious and easy enough. “I’ll just sleep on the couch in the living room. Someone else can have my room. It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Haven asks with a frown as the sound of footsteps grows louder.
In seconds, Banks appears by my side. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You can stay in the cottage.”
His deep, commanding voice sends a hot shiver down my spine.
Or maybe it’s the thought of being close to him in such a tiny space that’s lighting me up.
24
ALL MY FRIENDS ARE ASSHOLES
RIPLEY
My stomach is flipping with nerves. This is bad. So bad I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I duck into my en suite bathroom a little later that evening, shut the door, and emergency text Chief Troublemaker and Number One Pain in the Ass.
Ripley: I need to talk, stat. For real.
Bridget: I’m on it. My assistant manager just arrived. Give me one minute to go to my office.
Chloe: I just finished a dog bath! I’m ready, wet shirt and all.
A minute later, we’re on a three-way video call, Bridget in her tiny office at the inn, Chloe walking down the quiet alley behind the doggie daycare, hair swept up in a high pony.
“Listen,” I say, cutting to the chase. “I need to tell you something, and don’t be assholes.”
Bridget straightens her shoulders. “Us, assholes? Never.”
“Shocking that I’d think you might be.”
