Who got into tennis in their fifties? Why not swimming aerobics or a Scrabble league?
Sydney waved her off. “I love playing tennis. I’m really excited that your mom wants to start taking lessons. I’ve set her up with Brian to do some one-on-one sessions. They met on the Fourth of July, so he’s not a total stranger to her.”
Reese looked at Sydney dubiously. “I cannot deal with any broken bones right now.”
Sydney laughed and stood up, too, before placing a quick kiss on Reese’s nose. “Tennis is a lifetime sport. People of all ages play.I promise, Brian knows your mom’s skill level already, and she’ll be in safe hands.”
Picking up her keys, Reese let the trust that she’d come to feel where Sydney was concerned wash over her. “I know, babe. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed.”
Sydney wrapped her arms loosely around Reese’s waist and pulled her closer. “About your mom or about Stan?”
“Both. When did we become the most well-adjusted people in our families?” Reese lamented. “I feel like we’ve been chasing around parents all summer, working constantly to keep things from bubbling over.”
Sydney laughed, and Reese sighed when Sydney nuzzled her face into Reese’s neck. “The students have become the teachers,” Sydney said before placing a soft kiss on Reese’s pulse point.
Reese groaned. “Well, we definitely haven’t gotten summer off.”
Stan was already seated when Reese entered the Boston pub he’d selected for their meeting place.
He looked happy, as usual, so Reese tried to tamp down on the nervousness that made her legs shake as she walked across the pub and took her seat across from him.
“Reese,” he said, waving her down into her seat. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Thanks. Though I’m not exactly sure what you had in mind for today,” Reese hedged, trying to get some visibility on the situation as soon as she could. She didn’t like flying blind.
The topics were endless. Her parents’ impending divorce. Grant’s infidelity. The upcoming wedding. Something stupid her father had done, though she didn’t know why she’d be involved in that. She hoped that she’d made it clear from their previous interactions that she had nothing to do with The Devereux Group, and she had every intention of keeping it that way.
Still, she smiled and picked up her menu, scanning the options. It was all standard bar food, the restaurant far more understated than anything her father would have chosen.
“I wanted us to catch up,” Stan said evasively, though Reese couldn’t figure out if that was intentional. It was a perfectly reasonable thing to say, and someone who wasn’t on high alert wouldn’t have been plussed by the answer.
“I saw Sydney on The Tennis Network a few weeks ago.” He took a drink of the beer that had been delivered before she’d arrived.
Reese smiled, though her brows furrowed in slight confusion. She really, really hoped they weren’t here to discuss Sydney—at least as she related to Brynn and Grant. “Yeah, she seems to be a natural, but who’s surprised? She’s actually heading out tomorrow to commentate at The Cleveland Open.”
“Good for her,” Stan beamed, genuinely meaning it. He was such an interesting man, and Reese couldn’t help but get swept up in his enthusiasm.
“If she’s happy, then so am I. But it’s clear the network loves her.” She was going to hold the party line of indisputable happiness for Sydney’s next career, even if it picked painfully at something inside of her. Because she did want to discuss how proud of Sydney she was, always.
A waiter stopped by, and Reese ordered sparkling water and a salad. She had every intention of keeping her wits about her. Stan ordered another beer and a burger, sans cheese, because he’d told the waiter that he was “watching his figure.”
Reese put her menu down to find Stan watching her, eyes inscrutable. “And how are you doing? How is the inn going?”
Well, wasn’t that a loaded question. She’d been muddling through, though Hallie was still indispensable to her survival.
“A very different type of business than I previously managed,” Reese admitted, wondering if Stan had ever felt like he’d gotten in over his head.
“The first one is always the hardest, but I have no doubt that it’ll get easier.”
“First one?” Reese asked before taking a sip of her water.
“If that’s what you want. I’m not sure if The Stone’s Throw Inn is the last stop for you, but if it’s not, I thought it would be a good idea for us to connect. I’d love to know what you’re considering in the future to see how I can avail myself to you if it’s a good fit.”
She almost spat out her water. In all the turns she’d considered their conversation taking, this wasn’t one of them. She swallowed deeply and tried to ignore the burning in her nose.
But she’d be lying if it hadn’t been something she’d been thinking about lately. The reality was, she was no good at managing an inn. Her interpersonal skills were less than up to snuff, and the reality was, when Sydney was available, she wanted to spend as much time with her as she could.
Hallie made some semblance of normalcy possible, but there was always a guest need or issue that cropped up in the middle of the already busy list of logistics and higher-level operations.
